Benjamin Franklin Part 38

"TO THE BUSY-BODY

"_Sir_,

"You having set yourself 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 myself; 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 other 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 Affliction.

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 ever 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 thyself, Neighbour: Let them play a little; I'll put all to rights myself 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 nowhere 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 myself 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, lest 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 Occurrences 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 a.s.sures us, that even the Turks are not so ignorant of Civility and the Arts of Endearment, but that they can practise 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 finis.h.i.+ng 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 pa.s.ses among the _Turks_ for a high Gratification.

And I will say this in its Vindication, that its 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 yourself 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.

ADVERTIs.e.m.e.nT

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, Circ.u.mstances, 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.

PREFACE TO THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE

October 2, 1729

The Pennsylvania Gazette being now to be carry'd on by other Hands, the Reader may expect some Account of the Method we design to proceed in.[23]

Upon a view of Chambers's great Dictionaries, from whence were taken the Materials of the _Universal Instructor in all Arts and Sciences_, which usually made the First Part of this Paper, we find that besides their containing many Things abstruse or insignificant to us, it will probably be fifty Years before the Whole can be gone thro' in this Manner of Publication. There are likewise in those Books continual References from Things under one Letter of the Alphabet to those under another, which relate to the same Subject, and are necessary to explain and compleat it; these taken in their Turn may perhaps be Ten Years distant; and since it is likely that they who desire to acquaint themselves with any particular Art or Science, would gladly have the whole before them in much less time, we believe our Readers will not think such a Method of communicating Knowledge to be a proper One.

However, tho' we do not intend to continue the Publication of those Dictionaries in a regular Alphabetical Method, as has. .h.i.therto been done; yet as several Things exhibited from them in the Course of these Papers, have been entertaining to such of the Curious, who never had and cannot have the Advantage of good Libraries; and as there are many Things still behind, which being in this Manner made generally known, may perhaps become of considerable Use, by giving such Hints to the excellent natural Genius's of our Country, as may contribute either to the Improvement of our present Manufactures, or towards the Invention of new Ones; we propose from Time to Time to communicate such particular Parts as appear to be of the most general Consequence.

As to the "Religious Courts.h.i.+p," Part of which has been retal'd to the Publick in these Papers, the Reader may be inform'd, that the whole Book will probably in a little Time be printed and bound up by itself; and those who approve of it, will doubtless be better pleas'd to have it entire, than in this broken interrupted Manner.

There are many who have long desired to see a good News-Paper in Pennsylvania; and we hope those Gentlemen who are able, will contribute towards the making This such. We ask a.s.sistance, because we are fully sensible, that to publish a good News-Paper is not so easy an Undertaking as many People imagine it to be. The Author of a Gazette (in the Opinion of the Learned) ought to be qualified with an extensive Acquaintance with Languages, a great Easiness and Command of Writing and Relating Things clearly and intelligibly, and in few Words; he should be able to speak of War both by Land and Sea; be well acquainted with Geography, with the History of the Time, with the several Interests of Princes and States, the Secrets of Courts, and the Manners and Customs of all Nations. Men thus accomplish'd are very rare in this remote Part of the World; and it would be well if the Writer of these Papers could make up among his Friends what is wanting in himself.

Upon the Whole, we may a.s.sure the Publick, that as far as the Encouragement we meet with will enable us, no Care and Pains shall be omitted, that may make the Pennsylvania Gazette as agreeable and useful an Entertainment as the Nature of the Thing will allow.

A DIALOGUE BETWEEN PHILOCLES AND HORATIO, MEETING ACCIDENTALLY IN THE FIELDS, CONCERNING VIRTUE AND PLEASURE

[From the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, June 23, 1730.][24]

_Philocles._ My friend _Horatio_! I am very glad to see you; prithee, how came such a Man as you alone? and musing too? What Misfortune in your Pleasures has sent you to Philosophy for Relief?

_Horatio._ You guess very right, my dear _Philocles_! We Pleasure-hunters are never without 'em; and yet, so enchanting is the Game! we can't quit the Chace. How calm and undisturbed is your Life!

How free from present Embarra.s.sments and future Cares! I know you love me, and look with Compa.s.sion upon my Conduct; Shew me then the Path which leads up to that constant and invariable Good, which I have heard you so beautifully describe, and which you seem so fully to possess.

_Phil._ There are few Men in the World I value more than you, _Horatio_!

for amidst all your Foibles and painful Pursuits of Pleasure, I have oft observed in you an honest Heart, and a Mind strongly bent towards Virtue. I wish, from my Soul, I could a.s.sist you in acting steadily the Part of a reasonable Creature; for, if you would not think it a Paradox, I should tell you I love you better than you do yourself.

_Hor._ A Paradox indeed! Better than I do myself! When I love my dear self so well, that I love every Thing else for my own sake.

_Phil._ He only loves himself well, who rightly and judiciously loves himself.

_Hor._ What do you mean by that, _Philocles_! You Men of Reason and Virtue are always dealing in Mysteries, tho' you laugh at 'em when the Church makes 'em. I think he loves himself very well and very judiciously too, as you call it, who allows himself to do whatever he pleases.

_Phil._ What, though it be to the Ruin and Destruction of that very Self which he loves so well! That Man alone loves himself rightly, who procures the greatest possible Good to himself thro' the whole of his Existence; and so pursues Pleasure as not to give for it more than 'tis worth.

_Hor._ That depends all upon Opinion. Who shall judge what the Pleasure is worth? Supposing a pleasing Form of the fair Kind strikes me so much, that I can enjoy nothing without the Enjoyment of that one Object. Or, that Pleasure in general is so favorite a Mistress, that I will take her as Men do their Wives, for better, for worse; mind no Consequences, nor regarding what's to come. Why should I not do it?

_Phil._ Suppose, _Horatio_, that a Friend of yours entred into the World about Two-and-Twenty, with a healthful vigorous Body, and a fair plentiful Estate of about Five Hundred Pounds a Year; and yet, before he had reached Thirty, should, by following his Pleasures, and not, as you say, duly regarding Consequences, have run out of his Estate, and disabled his Body to that Degree, that he had neither the Means nor Capacity of Enjoyment left, nor any Thing else to do but wisely shoot himself through the Head to be at rest; what would you say to this unfortunate Man's Conduct? Is it wrong by Opinion or Fancy only? Or is there really a Right and Wrong in the Case? Is not one Opinion of Life and Action juster than another? Or, one Sort of Conduct preferable to another? Or, does that miserable Son of Pleasure appear as reasonable and lovely a Being in your Eyes, as a Man who, by prudently and rightly gratifying his natural Pa.s.sions, had preserved his Body in full Health, and his Estate entire, and enjoy'd both to a good old Age, and then died with a thankful Heart for the good Things he had received, and with an entire Submission to the Will of Him who first called him into Being?

Say, _Horatio_! are these Men equally wise and happy? And is every Thing to be measured by mere Fancy and Opinion, without considering whether that Fancy or Opinion be right?

_Hor._ Hardly so neither, I think; yet sure the wise and good Author of Nature could never make us to plague us. He could never give us Pa.s.sions, on purpose to subdue and conquer 'em; nor produce this Self of mine, or any other self, only that it may be denied; for that is denying the Works of the great Creator himself. Self-denial, then, which is what I suppose you mean by Prudence, seems to me not only absurd, but very dishonourable to that Supreme Wisdom and Goodness, which is supposed to make so ridiculous and Contradictious a Creature, that must be always fighting with himself in order to be at rest, and undergo voluntary Hards.h.i.+ps in order to be happy: Are we created sick, only to be commanded to be Sound? Are we born under one Law, our Pa.s.sions, and yet bound to another, that of Reason? Answer me, _Philocles_, for I am warmly concerned for the Honour of Nature, the Mother of us all.

_Phil._ I find, Horatio, my two Characters have affrighted you; so that you decline the Trial of what is Good, by reason: And had rather make a bold Attack upon Providence; the usual Way of you Gentlemen of Fas.h.i.+on, who, when by living in Defiance of the eternal Rules of Reason, you have plunged yourselves into a thousand Difficulties, endeavour to make yourselves easy by throwing the Burden upon Nature. You are, _Horatio_, in a very miserable Condition indeed; for you say you can't be happy if you controul your Pa.s.sions; and you feel yourself miserable by an unrestrained Gratification of 'em; so that here's Evil, irremediable Evil, either way.

_Hor._ That is very true, at least it appears so to me: Pray, what have you to say, _Philocles_! in Honour of Nature or Providence; methinks I'm in Pain for her: How do you rescue her? poor Lady!

_Phil._ This, my dear _Horatio_, I have to say; that what you find Fault with and clamour against, as the most terrible Evil in the World, Self-denial; is really the greatest Good, and the highest Self-gratification: If indeed, you use the Word in the Sense of some weak sour Moralists, and much weaker Divines, you'll have just Reason to laugh at it; but if you take it, as understood by Philosophers and Men of Sense, you will presently see her Charms, and fly to her Embraces, notwithstanding her demure Looks, as absolutely necessary to produce even your own darling sole Good, Pleasure: For, Self-denial is never a Duty, or a reasonable Action, but as 'tis a natural Means of procuring more Pleasure than you can taste without it so that this grave, Saint-like Guide to Happiness, as rough and dreadful as she has been made to appear, is in truth the kindest and most beautiful Mistress in the World.

_Hor._ Prithee, _Philocles_! do not wrap yourself in Allegory and Metaphor. Why do you teaze me thus? I long to be satisfied, what this Philosophical Self-denial is, the Necessity and Reason of it; I'm impatient, and all on Fire; explain, therefore, in your beautiful, natural easy Way of Reasoning, what I'm to understand by this grave Lady of yours, with so forbidding, downcast Looks, and yet so absolutely necessary to my Pleasures. I stand ready to embrace her; for you know, Pleasure I court under all Shapes and Forms.

_Phil._ Attend then, and you'll see the Reason of this Philosophical Self-denial. There can be no absolute Perfection in any Creature; because every Creature is derived, and dependent: No created Being can be All-wise, All-good, and All-powerful, because his Powers and Capacities are finite and limited; consequently whatever is created must, in its own Nature, be subject to Error, Irregularity, Excess, and Disorder. All intelligent, rational Agents find in themselves a Power of judging what kind of Beings they are; what Actions are proper to preserve 'em, and what Consequences will generally attend them, what Pleasures they are form'd for, and to what Degree their Natures are capable of receiving them. All we have to do then, _Horatio_, is to consider, when we are surpriz'd with a new Object, and pa.s.sionately desire to enjoy it, whether the gratifying that Pa.s.sion be consistent with the gratifying other Pa.s.sions and Appet.i.tes, equal if not more necessary to us. And whether it consists with our Happiness To-morrow, next Week, or next Year; for, as we all wish to live, we are obliged by Reason to take as much Care for our future, as our present Happiness, and not build one upon the Ruins of t'other. But, if thro' the Strength and Power of a present Pa.s.sion, and thro' want of attending to Consequences, we have err'd and exceeded the Bounds which Nature or Reason have set us; we are then, for our own Sakes, to refrain, or deny ourselves a present momentary Pleasure for a future, constant and durable one: So that this Philosophical Self-denial is only refusing to do an Action which you strongly desire; because 'tis inconsistent with your Health, Fortunes, or Circ.u.mstances in the World; or, in other Words, because 'twould cost you more than 'twas worth. You would lose by it, as a Man of Pleasure. Thus you see, _Horatio_! that Self-denial is not only the most reasonable, but the most pleasant Thing in the World.

_Hor._ We are just coming into Town, so that we can't pursue this Argument any farther at present; you have said a great deal for Nature, Providence, and Reason: Happy are they who can follow such divine Guides.

_Phil._ _Horatio!_ good Night; I wish you wise in your Pleasures.

_Hor._ I wish, _Philocles_! I could be as wise in my Pleasures as you are pleasantly Wise; your Wisdom is agreeable, your Virtue is amiable, and your Philosophy the highest Luxury. Adieu! thou enchanting Reasoner!