Phıladelphıa 1726-1757
PHILADELPHIA 1726-1757
by Benjamin Franklin
_Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion_
IN TWO PARTS.
Here will I hold —— If there is a Pow’r 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. Cato.
PART I.
Philada.
Nov. 20 1728.
First Principles
I believe there is one Supreme most perfect Being, Author and
Father of the Gods themselves.
For I believe that Man is not the most perfect Being but One,
rather that as there are many Degrees of Beings his Inferiors, so
there are many Degrees of Beings superior to him.
Also, when I stretch my Imagination thro’ and beyond our System
of Planets, beyond the visible fix’d Stars themselves, into that
Space that is every Way infinite, and conceive it fill’d with Suns
like ours, each with a Chorus of Worlds for ever moving round him,
then this little Ball on which we move, seems, even in my narrow
Imagination, to be almost Nothing, and my self less than nothing, and
of no sort of Consequence.
When I think thus, I imagine it great Vanity in me to suppose,
that the _Supremely Perfect_, does in the least regard such an
inconsiderable Nothing as Man. More especially, since it is
impossible for me to have any positive clear Idea of that which is
infinite and incomprehensible, I cannot conceive otherwise, than that
He, _the Infinite Father_, expects or requires no Worship or Praise
from us, but that he is even INFINITELY ABOVE IT.
But since there is in all Men something like a natural
Principle which enclines them to DEVOTION or the Worship of some
unseen Power;
And since Men are endued with Reason superior to all other
Animals that we are in our World acquainted with;
Therefore I think it seems required of me, and my Duty, as a
Man, to pay Divine Regards to SOMETHING.
I CONCEIVE then, that the INFINITE has created many Beings or
Gods, vastly superior to Man, who can better conceive his Perfections
than we, and return him a more rational and glorious Praise. As
among Men, the Praise of the Ignorant or of Children, is not regarded
by the ingenious Painter or Architect, who is rather honour’d and
pleas’d with the Approbation of Wise men and Artists.
It may be that these created Gods, are immortal, or it may be
that after many Ages, they are changed, and Others supply their
Places.
Howbeit, I conceive that each of these is exceeding wise, and
good, and very powerful; and that Each has made for himself, one
glorious Sun, attended with a beautiful and admirable System of
Planets.
It is that particular wise and good God, who is the Author and
Owner of our System, that I propose for the Object of my Praise and
Adoration.
For I conceive that he has in himself some of those Passions he
has planted in us, and that, since he has given us Reason whereby we
are capable of observing his Wisdom in the Creation, he is not above
caring for us, being pleas’d with our Praise, and offended when we
slight Him, or neglect his Glory.
I conceive for many Reasons that he is a _good Being_, and as I
should be happy to have so wise, good and powerful a Being my Friend,
let me consider in what Manner I shall make myself most acceptable to
him.
Next to the Praise due, to his Wisdom, I believe he is pleased
and delights in the Happiness of those he has created; and since
without Virtue Man (*) can have no Happiness in this World, I firmly
believe he delights to see me Virtuous, because he is pleas’d when he
sees me Happy.
(*) See Junto Paper of Good and Evil, &c.
And since he has created many Things which seem purely design’d
for the Delight of Man, I believe he is not offended when he sees his
Children solace themselves in any manner of pleasant Exercises and
innocent Delights, and I think no Pleasure innocent that is to Man
hurtful.
I _love_ him therefore for his Goodness and I _adore_ him for
his Wisdom.
Let me then not fail to praise my God continually, for it is
his Due, and it is all I can return for his many Favours and great
Goodness to me; and let me resolve to be virtuous, that I may be
happy, that I may please Him, who is delighted to see me happy.
Amen.
1. Adoration. 2. Petition. 3. Thanks.
Prel.
Being mindful that before I address the DEITY, my Soul ought to
be calm and Serene, free from Passion and Perturbation, or otherwise
elevated with Rational Joy and Pleasure, I ought to use a Countenance
that expresses a filial Respect, mixt with a kind of Smiling, that
signifies inward Joy, and Satisfaction, and Admiration.
O wise God,
My good Father,
Thou beholdest the Sincerity of my Heart,
And of my Devotion;
Grant me a Continuance of thy Favour!
(1)
Powerful Goodness, &c.
O Creator, O Father, I believe that thou art Good, and that
thou art _pleas’d with the Pleasure_ of thy Children.
Praised be thy Name for Ever.
(2)
By thy Power hast thou made the glorious Sun, with his
attending Worlds; from the Energy of thy mighty Will they first
received their prodigious Motion, and by thy Wisdom hast thou
prescribed the wondrous Laws by which they move.
Praised be thy Name for ever.
(3)
By thy Wisdom hast thou formed all Things, Thou hast created
Man, bestowing Life and Reason, and plac’d him in Dignity superior to
thy other earthly Creatures.
Praised be thy Name for ever.
(4)
Thy Wisdom, thy Power, and thy GOODNESS are every where clearly
seen; in the Air and in the Water, in the Heavens and on the Earth;
Thou providest for the various winged Fowl, and the innumerable
Inhabitants of the Water; Thou givest Cold and Heat, Rain and
Sunshine in their Season, and to the Fruits of the Earth Increase.
Praised be thy Name for ever.
(5)
I believe thou hast given Life to thy Creatures that they might
Live, and art not delighted with violent Death and bloody Sacrifices.
Praised be thy Name for Ever.
(6)
Thou abhorrest in thy Creatures Treachery and Deceit, Malice,
Revenge, Intemperance and every other hurtful Vice; but Thou art a
Lover of Justice and Sincerity, of Friendship, Benevolence and every
Virtue. Thou art my Friend, my Father, and my Benefactor.
Praised be thy Name, O God, for Ever.
Amen.
After this, it will not be improper to read part of some such
Book as Ray’s Wisdom of God in the Creation or Blacmore on the
Creation, or the Archbishop of Cambray’s Demonstration of the Being
of a God; &c. or else spend some Minutes in a serious Silence,
contemplating on those Subjects.
Then Sing
Milton’s Hymn to the Creator
These are thy Glorious Works, Parent of Good!
Almighty: Thine this Universal Frame,
Thus wondrous fair! Thy self how wondrous then!
Speak ye who best can tell, Ye Sons of Light,
Angels, for ye behold him, and with Songs,
And Choral Symphonies , Day without Night
Circle his Throne rejoicing. You in Heav’n,
On Earth, join all Ye Creatures to extol
Him first, him last, him midst and without End.
Fairest of Stars, last in the Train of Night,
If rather thou belongst not to the Dawn,
Sure Pledge of Day! That crown’st the smiling Morn
With thy bright Circlet; Praise him in thy Sphere
While Day arises, that sweet Hour of Prime.
Thou Sun, of this Great World both Eye and Soul
Acknowledge Him thy Greater, Sound his Praise
In thy Eternal Course; both when thou climb’st,
And when high Noon hast gain’d, and when thou fall’st.
Moon! that now meet’st the orient Sun, now fly’st
With the fix’d Stars, fix’d in their Orb that flies,
And ye five other Wandring Fires, that move
In mystic Dance, not without Song, resound
His Praise, that out of Darkness call’d up Light.
Air! and ye Elements! the Eldest Birth
Of Nature’s Womb, that in Quaternion run
Perpetual Circle, multiform; and mix
And nourish all Things, let your ceaseless Change
Vary to our great Maker still new Praise.
Ye Mists and Exhalations! that now rise
From Hill or steaming Lake, dusky or grey,
Till the Sun paint your fleecy Skirts with Gold,
In Honour to the World’s Great Author rise.
Whether to deck with Clouds th’ uncolour’d Sky
Or wet the thirsty Earth with falling Show’rs,
Rising or falling still advance his Praise.
His Praise, ye Winds! that from 4 Quarters blow,
Breathe soft or loud; and wave your Tops ye Pines!
With every Plant, in Sign of Worship wave.
Fountains! and ye that warble as ye flow
Melodious Murmurs, warbling tune his Praise.
Join Voices all ye living Souls, ye Birds!
That singing, up to Heav’n’s high Gate ascend,
Bear on your Wings, and in your Notes his Praise.
Ye that in Waters glide! and ye that walk
The Earth! and stately Tread, or lowly Creep;
Witness _if I be silent_, Ev’n orain or Fresh Shade,
Made Vocal by my Song, and taught his Praise.
Here follows the Reading of some Book or part of a Book
Discoursing on and exciting to MORAL VIRTUR
Petition.
Prel.
In as much as by Reason of our Ignorance We cannot be Certain
that many Things Which we often hear mentioned in the Petitions of
Men to the Deity, would prove REAL GOODS if they were in our
Possession, and as I have Reason to hope and believe that the
Goodness of my Heavenly Father will not withold from me a suitable
Share of Temporal Blessings, if by a VIRTUOUS and HOLY Life I merit
his Favour and Kindness, Therefore I presume not to ask such Things,
but rather Humbly, and with a sincere Heart express my earnest
Desires that he would graciously assist my Continual Endeavours and
Resolutions of eschewing Vice and embracing Virtue; Which kind of
Supplications will at least be thus far beneficial, as they remind me
in a solemn manner of my Extensive DUTY.
That I may be preserved from Atheism and Infidelity, Impiety
and Profaneness, and in my Addresses to Thee carefully avoid
Irreverence and Ostentation, Formality and odious Hypocrisy,
Help me, O Father
That I may be loyal to my Prince, and faithful to my Country,
careful for its Good, valiant in its Defence, and obedient to its
Laws, abhorring Treason as much as Tyranny,
Help me, O Father
That I may to those above me be dutiful, humble, and
submissive, avoiding Pride, Disrespect and Contumacy,
Help me, O Father
That I may to those below me, be gracious, Condescending and
Forgiving, using Clemency, protecting _Innocent Distress_, avoiding
Cruelty, Harshness and Oppression, Insolence and unreasonable
Severity,
Help me, O Father
That I may refrain from Calumny and Detraction; that I may
avoid and abhor Deceit and Envy, Fraud, Flattery and Hatred, Malice,
Lying and Ingratitude,
Help me, O Father
That I may be sincere in Friendship, faithful in Trust, and
impartial in Judgment, watchful against Pride, and against Anger
(that momentary Madness),
Help me, O Father
That I may be just in all my Dealings and temperate in my
Pleasures, full of Candour and Ingenuity, Humanity and Benevolence,
Help me, O Father
That I may be grateful to my Benefactors and generous to my
Friends, exerting Charity and Liberality to the Poor, and Pity to the
Miserable,
Help me, O Father
That I may avoid Avarice, Ambition, and Intemperance, Luxury
and Lasciviousness,
Help me, O Father
That I may possess Integrity and Evenness of Mind, Resolution
in Difficulties, and Fortitude under Affliction; that I may be
punctual in performing my Promises, peaceable and prudent in my
Behaviour,
Help me, O Father
That I may have Tenderness for the Weak, and a reverent Respect
for the Ancient; That I may be kind to my Neighbours, good-natured to
my Companions, and hospitable to Strangers,
Help me, O Father
That I may be averse to Craft and Overreaching, abhor
Extortion, Perjury, and every kind of Wickedness,
Help me, O Father
That I may be honest and Openhearted, gentle, merciful and
Good, chearful in Spirit, rejoicing in the Good of Others,
Help me, O Father
That I may have a constant Regard to Honour and Probity; That I
may possess a perfect Innocence and a good Conscience, and at length
become Truly Virtuous and Magnanimous, Help me, Good God,
Help me, O Father
And forasmuch as Ingratitude is one of the most odious of
Vices, let me not be unmindful gratefully to acknoledge the Favours I
receive from Heaven.
Thanks.
For Peace and Liberty, for Food and Raiment, for Corn and Wine,
and Milk, and every kind of Healthful Nourishment, _Good God, I Thank
thee._
For the Common Benefits of Air and Light, for useful Fire and
delicious Water, _Good God, I Thank thee._
For Knowledge and Literature and every useful Art; for my
Friends and their Prosperity, and for the fewness of my Enemies,
_Good God, I Thank thee._
For all thy innumerable Benefits; For Life and Reason, and the
Use of Speech, for Health and Joy and every Pleasant Hour, _my Good
God, I thank thee._
End of the first Part.
_Epitaph_
The Body of
B. Franklin,
Printer;
Like the Cover of an old Book,
Its Contents torn out,
And stript of its Lettering and Gilding,
Lies here, Food for Worms.
But the Work shall not be wholly lost:
For it will, as he believ’d, appear once more,
In a new & more perfect Edition,
Corrected and amended
By the Author.
He was born Jan. 6. 1706.
Died 17
1728
_The Busy-Body, No. 1_
Mr. _Andrew Bradford_,
I design this to acquaint you, that I, who have long been one
of your _Courteous Readers_, have lately entertain’d some Thoughts of
setting up for an Author my Self; not out of the least Vanity, I
assure you, or Desire of showing my Parts, but purely for the Good of
my Country.
I have often observ’d with Concern, that your _Mercury_ is not
always equally entertaining. The Delay of Ships expected in, and
want of fresh Advices from _Europe_, make it frequently very Dull;
and I find the Freezing of our River has the same Effect on News as
on Trade. — With more Concern have I continually observ’d the
growing Vices and Follies of my Country-folk. And tho’ Reformation
is properly the concern of every Man; that is, _Every one ought to
mend One_; yet ’tis too true in this Case, that _what is every Body’s
Business is no Body’s Business_, and the Business is done
accordingly. I, therefore, upon mature Deliberation, think fit to
take _no Body’s Business_ wholly into my own Hands; and, out of Zeal
for the Publick Good, design to erect my Self into a Kind of _Censor
Morum_; proposing with your Allowance, to make Use of the _Weekly
Mercury_ as a Vehicle in which my Remonstrances shall be convey’d to
the World.
I am sensible I have, in this Particular, undertaken a very
unthankful Office, and expect little besides my Labour for my Pains.
Nay, ’tis probable I may displease a great Number of your Readers,
who will not very well like to pay 10 s a Year for being told of
their Faults. But as most People delight in Censure when they
themselves are not the Objects of it, if any are offended at my
publickly exposing their private Vices, I promise they shall have the
Satisfaction, in a very little Time, of seeing their good Friends and
Neighbours in the same Circumstances.
However, let the Fair Sex be assur’d, that I shall always treat
them and their Affairs with the utmost _Decency_ and Respect. I
intend now and then to dedicate a Chapter wholly to their Service;
and if my Lectures any Way contribute to the Embellishment of their
Minds, and Brightning of their Understandings, without offending
their _Modesty_, I doubt not of having their Favour and
Encouragement.
‘Tis certain, that no Country in the World produces naturally
finer Spirits than ours, Men of Genius for every kind of Science, and
capable of acquiring to Perfection every Qualification that is in
Esteem among Mankind. But as few here have the Advantage of good
Books, for want of which, good Conversation is still more scarce, it
would doubtless have been very acceptable to your Readers, if,
instead of an old out-of-date Article from _Muscovy_ or _Hungary_,
you had entertained them with some well-chosen Extract from a good
Author. This I shall sometimes do, _when I happen to have nothing of
my own to say that I think of more Consequence._ Sometimes, I propose
to deliver Lectures of Morality or Philosophy, and (because I am
naturally enclin’d to be meddling with Things that don’t concern me)
perhaps I may sometimes talk Politicks. And if I can by any means
furnish out a Weekly Entertainment for the Publick, that will give a
rational Diversion, and at the same Time be instructive to the
Readers, I shall think my Leisure Hours well employ’d: And if you
publish this I hereby invite all ingenious Gentlemen and others,
(that approve of such an Undertaking) to my Assistance and
Correspondence.
‘Tis like by this Time you have a Curiosity to be acquainted
with my Name and Character. As I do not aim at publick Praise I
design to remain concealed; and there are such Numbers of our Family
and Relations at this Time in the Country, that tho’ I’ve sign’d my
Name at full Length, I am not under the least Apprehension of being
distinguish’d and discover’d by it. My Character indeed I would
favour you with, but that I am cautious of praising my Self, lest I
should be told _my Trumpeter’s dead_: And I cannot find in my Heart,
at present, to say any Thing to my own Disadvantage.
It is very common with Authors in their First Performances to
talk to their Readers thus, _If this meets with a SUITABLE
_Reception_; Or, _If this should meet with DUE _Encouragement, I
shall hereafter publish, &c._ This only manifests the Value they put
on their own Writings, since they think to frighten the Publick into
their Applause, by threatning, that unless you approve what they have
already wrote, they intend never to write again; when perhaps, it
mayn’t be a Pin Matter whether they ever do or no. As I have not
observ’d the Criticks to be more favourable on this Account, I shall
always avoid saying any Thing of the Kind; and conclude with telling
you, that if you send me a Bottle of Ink and a Quire of Paper by the
Bearer, you may depend on hearing further from
SIR,
Your most humble Servant
_The Busy Body._
_No 1_.
_The American Weekly Mercury_, February 4, 1728/9
_The Busy-Body, No. 2_
_All Fools have still an Itching to deride;
And fain would be upon the laughing Side._ Pope.
Monsieur _Rochefocaut_ tells us somewhere in his Memoirs, that
the Prince of _Conde_ delighted much in Ridicule; and us’d frequently
to shut himself up for Half a Day together in his Chamber with a
Gentleman that was his Favourite, purposely to divert himself with
examining what was the Foible or ridiculous side of every Noted
Person in the Court. That Gentleman said afterwards in some Company,
that he thought nothing was more ridiculous in any Body, than this
same Humour in the Prince; and I am somewhat inclin’d to be of his
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
_The Busy-Body, No. 5_
_Vos, O Patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est
Occipiti caeco, posticae occurrite sannae_. Persius.
This Paper being design’d for a Terror to Evil-Doers, as well
as a Praise to them that do well, I am lifted up with secret Joy to
find that my Undertaking is approved, and encourag’d by the Just and
Good, and that few are against me but those who have Reason to fear
me.
There are little Follies in the Behaviour of most Men, which
their best Friends are too tender to acquaint them with: There are
little Vices and small Crimes which the Law has no Regard to, or
Remedy for: There are likewise great Pieces of Villany sometimes so
craftily accomplish’d, and so circumspectly guarded, that the Law can
take no Hold of the Actors. All these Things, and all Things of this
Nature, come within my Province as _CENSOR_, and I am determined not
to be negligent of the Trust I have reposed in my self, but resolve
to execute my Office diligently and Faithfully.
And that all the World may judge with how much Humanity as well
as Justice I shall behave in this Office; and that even my Enemies
may be convinc’d I take no Delight to rake into the Dunghill Lives of
vicious Men; and to the End that certain Persons may be a little
eas’d of their Fears, and reliev’d from the terrible Palpitations
they have lately felt and suffer’d, and do still suffer; I hereby
graciously pass an Act of general Oblivion, for all Offences, Crimes
and Misdemeanors of what Kind soever, committed from the Beginning of
Year sixteen hundred and eighty one, until the Day of the Date of my
first Paper; and promise only to concern my self with such as have
been since and shall hereafter be committed. I shall take no Notice
who has, (heretofore) rais’d a Fortune by Fraud and Oppression, nor
who by Deceit and Hypocrisy: What Woman has been false to her good
Husband’s Bed; nor what Man has, by barbarous Usage or Neglect, broke
the Heart of a faithful Wife, and wasted his Health and Substance in
Debauchery: What base Wretch has betray’d his Friend, and sold his
Honesty for Gold, nor what yet baser Wretch, first corrupted him and
then bought the Bargain: All this, and much more of the same Kind I
shall forget and pass over in Silence; — but then it is to be
observed that I expect and require a sudden and general Amendment.
These Threatnings of mine I hope will have a good Effect, and,
if regarded, may prevent abundance of Folly and Wickedness in others,
and at the same Time save me abundance of Trouble. And that People
may not flatter themselves with the Hopes of concealing their
Misdemeanours from my Knowledge, and in that View persist in
Evil-doing, I must acquaint them, that I have lately enter’d into an
Intimacy with the extraordinary Person who some Time since wrote me
the following Letter; and who, having a Wonderful Faculty that
enables him to discover the most secret Iniquity, is capable of
giving me great Assistance in my designed Work of Reformation.
_Mr. Busy-Body_.
`I rejoice Sir, at the Opportunity you have given me to be
serviceable to you, and by your Means to this Province. You must
know, that such have been the Circumstances of my Life, and such were
the marvellous Concurrences of my Birth, that I have not only a
Faculty of discovering the Actions of Persons that are absent or
asleep; but even of the Devil himself in many of his secret Workings,
in the various Shapes, Habits and Names of Men and Women. And having
travel’d and conversed much and met but with a very few of the same
Perceptions and Qualifications, I can recommend my Self to you as the
most useful Man you can correspond with. My Father’s Father’s Father
(for we had no Grandfathers in our Family) was the same _John Bunyan_
that writ that memorable Book _The Pilgrim’s Progress_, who had in
some Degree a natural Faculty of _Second Sight_. This Faculty (how
derived to him, our Family Memoirs are not very clear) was enjoy’d by
all his Descendants, but not by equal Talents — ‘Twas very dim in
several of my first Cousins, and probably had been nearly extinct in
our particular Branch, had not my Father been a Traveller — He lived
in his youthful Days in _New-England_. There he married, and there
was born my elder Brother, who had so much of this Faculty, as to
discover Witches in some of their occult Performances. My Parents
transporting themselves to _Great Britain_ my second Brother’s Birth
was in that Kingdom — He shared but a small Portion of this Virtue,
being only able to discern Transactions about the Time, and for the
most Part after their happening. My good Father, who delighted in
the _Pilgrim’s Progress_, and mountainous Places, took Shipping with
his Wife for _Scotland_, and inhabited in the Highlands, where my
Self was born; and whether the Soil, Climate or Astral Influences, of
which are preserved divers Prognosticks, restored our Ancestors
Natural Faculty of _Second Sight_, in a greater Lustre to me than it
had shined in thro’ several Generations, I will not here discuss.
But so it is, that I am possess’d largely of it, and design if you
encourage the Proposal, to take this Opportunity of doing good with
it, which I question not will be accepted of in a grateful Way, by
many of your honest Readers, Tho’ the Discovery of my Extraction
bodes me no Deference from your great Scholars and modern
Philosophers. This my Father was long ago aware of, and lest the
Name alone should hurt the Fortunes of his Children; he in his
Shiftings from one Country to another wisely changed it.
`Sir, I have only this further to say, how I may be useful to
you & as a Reason for my not making my Self more known in the World:
By Virtue of this Great Gift of Nature _Second-Sightedness_. I do
continually see Numbers of Men, Women and Children of all Ranks, and
what they are doing, while I am sitting in my Closet; which is too
great a Burthen for the Mind, and makes me also conceit even against
Reason, that all this Host of People can see and observe me, which
strongly inclines me to Solitude and an obscure Living; and on the
other Hand, it will be an Ease to me to disburthen my Thoughts and
Observations in the Way proposed to you by, Sir, your Friend, and
humble Servant. —— ‘
I conceal this Correspondent’s Name in my Care for his Life and
Safety, and cannot but approve his Prudence in chusing to live
obscurely. I remember the Fate of my poor Monkey: He had an
ill-natur’d Trick of grinning and chattering at every Thing he saw in
Pettycoats. My ignorant Country Neighbours got a Notion that _Pugg_
snarl’d by instinct at every Female who had lost her Virginity. This
was no sooner generally believ’d than he was condemn’d to Death; By
whom I could never learn, but he was assassinated in the Night,
barbarously stabb’d and mangled in a Thousand Places, and left
hanging dead on one of my Gate posts, where I found him the next
Morning.
_The_ Censor _observing that the_ Itch of Scribbling _begins to
spread exceedingly, and being carefully tender of the Reputation of
his Country in Point of_ Wit _and_ Good Sense, _has determined to
take all manner of Writings, in Verse or Prose, that pretend to
either, under his immediate Cognizance; and accordingly hereby
prohibits the Publishing any such for the future, ’till they have
first pass’d his Examination, and receiv’d his_ Imprimatur. _For
which he demands as a Fee only 6_ d. _per Sheet_.
N. B. _He nevertheless permits to be published all Satyrical
Remarks on the_ Busy-Body, _the above Prohibition notwithstanding,
and without Examination, or requiring the said Fees: which Indulgence
the small Wits in and about this City are advised gratefully to
accept and acknowledge.
_The Gentleman who calls himself_ Sirronio, _is directed, on
the Receipt of this, to burn his great Book of_ Crudities.
P. S. _In Compassion to that young Man on Account of the great
Pains he has taken; in Consideration of the Character I have just
receiv’d of him, that he is really_ _Good-natured; _and on Condition
he shows it to no Foreigner or Stranger of Sense, I have thought fit
to reprieve his said_ _great Book of Crudities _from the Flames,
’till further Order_.
_Noli me tangere_.
I had resolved when I first commenc’d this Design, on no
Account to enter into a publick Dispute with any Man; for I judg’d it
would be equally unpleasant to me and my Readers, to see this Paper
fill’d with contentious Wrangling, Answers, Replies, _&c_. which is a
Way of Writing that is Endless, and at the same time seldom contains
any Thing that is either edifying or entertaining. Yet when such a
considerable Man as Mr. —— finds himself concern’d so warmly to
accuse and condemn me, as he has done in _Keimer_’s last
_Instructor_, I cannot forbear endeavouring to say something in my
own Defence, from one of the worst of Characters that could be given
of me by a Man of Worth. But as I have many Things of more
Consequence to offer the Publick, I declare that I will never, after
this Time, take Notice of any Accusations not better supported with
Truth and Reason; much less may every little Scribbler, that shall
attack me, expect an Answer from the _Busy-Body_.
The Sum of the _Charge deliver’d_ against me, either directly
or indirectly in the said Paper, is this. Not to mention the first
weighty Sentence concerning _Vanity and Ill-Nature_, and the shrew’d
Intimation _that I am without Charity, and therefore can have no
Pretence to Religion_, I am represented as guilty of _Defamation and
Scandal, the Odiousness of which is apparent to every good Man, and
the Practice of it opposite to Christianity, Morality, and common
Justice, and in some Cases so far below all these as to be inhumane_.
As a _Blaster of Reputations_. As _attempting by a Pretence to
screen my Self from the Imputation of Malice and Prejudice_. As
_using a Weapon which the Wiser and better Part of Mankind hold in
Abhorrence_: And as _giving Treatment which the wiser and better Part
of Mankind dislike on the same Principles, and for the same Reason as
they do Assassination_. &c, And all this, is infer’d and concluded
from a Character I wrote in my Number 3.
In order to examine the Justice and Truth of this heavy Charge,
let us recur to that Character. — And here we may be surpriz’d to
find what a Trifle has rais’d this mighty Clamour and Complaint, this
Grievous Accusation! — The worst Thing said of the Person, in what
is called my gross Description, (be he who he will to whom my Accuser
has apply’d the Character of _Cretico_) is, that he is a _sower
Philosopher, crafty, but not wise_: Few Humane Characters can be
drawn that will not fit some body, in so large a Country as this; But
one would think, supposing I meant _Cretico_ a real Person, I had
sufficiently manifested my impartiality, when I said in that very
Paragraph, _That_ Cretico _is not without Virtue; that there are MANY
good Things in him, and MANY good Actions reported of him_; Which
must be allow’d in all Reason, very much to overballance in his
Favour those worst Words, _sowre Temper’d_ and _cunning_. Nay my
very Enemy and Accuser must have been sensible of this, when he
freely acknowledges, _that he has been seriously considering, and
cannot yet determine, which he would chuse to be, the_ Cato _or_
Cretico _of that Paper_: Since my _Cato_ is one of the best of
Characters.
Thus much in my own Vindication. As to the _only reasons_
there given why I ought not to continue drawing Characters, viz.
_Why should any Man’s Picture be published which he never sat for; or
his good Name taken from him any more than his Money or Possessions
at the arbitrary Will of another,_ &c? I have but this to answer.
The Money or Possessions I presume are nothing to the Purpose, since
no Man can claim a Right either to those or a good Name, if he has
acted so as to forfeit them. And are not the Publick the only Judges
what Share of Reputation they think proper to allow any Man? –
Supposing I was capable, and had an Inclination to draw all the good
and bad Characters in _America_; Why should a good Man be offended
with me for drawing good Characters? And if I draw Ill Ones, can
they fit any but those that deserve them? And ought any _but such_
to be concern’d that they have their Deserts? I have as great an
Aversion and Abhorrence from Defamation and Scandal as any Man, and
would with the utmost Care avoid being guilty of such base Things:
Besides I am very sensible and certain, that if I should make use of
this Paper to defame any Person, my Reputation would be sooner hurt
by it than his, and the _Busy-Body_ would quickly become detestable;
because in such a Case, as is justly observ’d, _The Pleasure arising
from a Taste of Wit and Novelty soon dies away in generous and Honest
Minds, and is follow’d with a secret Grief to see their Neighbours
calumniated_. But if I my self was actually the worst Man in the
Province, and any one should draw my true Character, would it not be
ridiculous in me to say, _he had defam’d and scandaliz’d me_; unless
added, _in a Matter of Truth_? — If any Thing is meant by asking,
_Why any Man’s Picture should be publish’d which he never sate for?_
It must be, that we should give no Character without the Owner’s
Consent. If I discern the Wolf disguis’d in harmless Wool, and
contriving the Destruction of my Neighbour’s Sheep, must I have his
Permission before I am allow’d to discover and prevent him? If I
know a Man to be a designing Knave, must I ask his Consent to bid my
Friends beware of him? If so, Then by the same Rule, supposing the
_Busy-Body_ had really merited all his Enemy has charg’d him with,
his Consent likewise ought to have been obtain’d before so terrible
an Accusation was published against him.
I shall conclude with observing, that in the last Paragraph
save one of the Piece now examin’d, much _ILL-NATURE_ and some Good
Sense are _Co-inhabitants_, (as he expresses it.) The _Ill Nature_
appears, in his endeavouring to discover Satyr, where I intended no
such Thing, but quite the Reverse: The good Sense is this, _that
drawing too good a Character of any one, is a refined Manner of Satyr
that may be as injurious to him as the contrary, by bringing on an
Examination that undresses the Person, and in the Haste of doing it,
he may happen to be stript of what he really owns and deserves_. As
I am _Censor_, I might punish the first, but I forgive it. Yet I
will not leave the latter unrewarded; but assure my Adversary, that
in Consideration of the Merit of those four Lines, I am resolved to
forbear _injuring_ him on any Account in that _refined Manner_.
_I thank my Neighbour_ P — w — l _for his kind Letter_. The
Lions complain’d of shall be muzzled.
_The American Weekly Mercury_, March 4, 1728/9
_The Busy-Body, No. 8_
—— _Quid non mortalia Pectora cogis
Auri sacra Fames!_ Virgil.
One of the greatest Pleasures an Author can have is
certainly the Hearing his Works applauded. The hiding from the World
our Names while we publish our Thoughts, is so absolutely necessary
to this Self-Gratification, that I hope my Well-wishers will
congratulate me on my Escape from the many diligent, but fruitless
Enquires that have of late been made after me. Every Man will own,
That an Author, as such, ought to be try’d by the Merit of his
Productions only; but Pride, Party, and Prejudice at this Time run so
very high, that Experience shews we form our Notions of a Piece by
the Character of the Author. Nay there are some very humble
Politicians in and about this City, who will ask on which Side the
Writer is, before they presume to give their Opinion of the Thing
wrote. This ungenerous Way of Proceeding I was well aware of before
I publish’d my first Speculation; and therefore concealed my Name.
And I appeal to the more generous Part of the World, if I have since
I appear’d in the Character of the _Busy-Body_ given an Instance of
my siding with any Party more than another, in the unhappy Divisions
of my Country; and I have above all, this Satisfaction in my Self,
That neither Affection, Aversion or Interest, have byass’d me to use
any Partiality towards any Man, or Sett of Men; but whatsoever I find
nonsensically ridiculous, or immorally dishonest, I have, and shall
continue openly to attack with the Freedom of an honest Man, and a
Lover of my Country.
I profess I can hardly contain my Self, or preserve the Gravity
and Dignity that should attend the _Censorial-Office_, when I hear
the odd and unaccountable Expositions that are put upon some of my
Works, thro’ the malicious Ignorance of
