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
threadbare; his Linnen was home-spun; 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 sweetened with Humanity and
Benevolence, and at the same Time enboldned 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
Falsehood. 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 Statesman! 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 Dependents, 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 thyself to a Study much more
profitable, The knowledge of Mankind and of thySelf.
# # # # #
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 Party-man, but a general Meddler.
N. B. Cretico lives in a neighbouring Province.
THE BUSY-BODY, NO. 4
Tuesday, February 25, 1728/9.
Ne quid 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 actually fill'd with nothing but wholesome
Precepts and Advice, I must therefore sometimes humor 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 myself 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 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 Printer's, 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 myself oftentimes suffer'd under the
Grievance therein complain'd of.
"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
assures 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 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 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.
# # # # #
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.
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 hitherto been
done; yet as several Things exhibited from them in the Course of these
Papers, have been entertaining to such of the Curious, who never had and
cannot have the Advantage of good Libraries; and as there are many
Things still behind, which being in this Manner made generally known,
may perhaps become of considerable Use, by giving such Hints to the
excellent natural Genius's of our Country, as may contribute either to
the Improvement of our present Manufactures, or towards the Invention of
new Ones; we propose from Time to Time to communicate such particular
Parts as appear to be of the most general Consequence.
As to the "Religious Courtship," Part of which has been retal'd to the
Publick in these Papers, the Reader may be inform'd, that the whole Book
will probably in a little Time be printed and bound up by 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 Assistance, because we are fully
sensible, that to publish a good News-Paper is not so easy an
Undertaking as many People imagine it to be. The Author of a Gazette (in
the Opinion of the Learned) ought to be qualified with an extensive
Acquaintance with Languages, a great Easiness and Command of Writing and
Relating Things 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 assure the Publick, that as far as the
Encouragement we meet with will enable us, no Care and Pains shall be
omitted, that may make the Pennsylvania Gazette as agreeable and useful
an Entertainment as the Nature of the Thing will allow.
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 Embarrassments and future Cares! I know you love
me, and look with Compassion 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 assist 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 Passions, 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
Passions, 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
Hardships in order to be happy: Are we created sick, only to be
commanded to be Sound? Are we born under one Law, our Passions, 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.