"MY DEAR AND HONORED FRIEND: I have often been desirous of
writing to thee, but could not be reconciled to the thought that
the letter might fall into the hands of the British, lest some
printer or busy-body should publish some part of the contents,
and give our friend pain, and myself censure.
"Some time since there fell into my hands, to my great joy,
about twenty-three sheets in thy own handwriting, containing an
account of the parentage and life of thyself, directed to thy son,
ending in the year 1730, with which there were notes, likewise in
thy writing; a copy of which I inclose, in hopes it may be a means,
if thou continued it up to a later period, that the first and latter
part may be put together; and if it is not yet continued, I hope thee
will not delay it. Life is uncertain, as the preacher tells us;
and what will the world say if kind, humane, and benevolent Ben.
Franklin should leave his friends and the world deprived of so pleasing
and profitable a work; a work which would be useful and entertaining
not only to a few, but to millions? The influence writings under
that class have on the minds of youth is very great, and has nowhere
appeared to me so plain, as in our public friend's journals.
It almost insensibly leads the youth into the resolution of endeavoring
to become as good and eminent as the journalist. Should thine,
for instance, when published (and I think it could not fail of
it), lead the youth to equal the industry and temperance of thy
early youth, what a blessing with that class would such a work be!
I know of no character living, nor many of them put together,
who has so much in his power as thyself to promote a greater spirit
of industry and early attention to business, frugality, and temperance
with the American youth. Not that I think the work would have no
other merit and use in the world, far from it; but the first is
of such vast importance that I know nothing that can equal it."
Letter from Mr. Benjamin Vaughan.
"PARIS, January 31, 1783.
"My DEAREST SIR: When I had read over your sheets of minutes
of the principal incidents of your life, recovered for you by your
Quaker acquaintance, I told you I would send you a letter expressing
my reasons why I thought it would be useful to complete and publish
it as he desired. Various concerns have for some time past prevented
this letter being written, and I do not know whether it was worth
any expectation; happening to be at leisure, however, at present,
I shall by writing, at least interest and instruct myself; but as the
terms I am inclined to use may tend to offend a person of your manners,
I shall only tell you how I would address any other person,
who was as good and as great as yourself, but less diffident.
I would say to him, Sir, I solicit the history of your life
from the following motives: Your history is so remarkable,
that if you do not give it, somebody else will certainly give it;
and perhaps so as nearly to do as much harm, as your own management
of the thing might do good. It will moreover present a table
of the internal circumstances of your country, which will very
much tend to invite to it settlers of virtuous and manly minds.
And considering the eagerness with which such information is sought
by them, and the extent of your reputation, I do not know of a
more efficacious advertisement than your biography would give.
All that has happened to you is also connected with the detail
of the manners and situation of a rising people; and in this
respect I do not think that the writings of Caesar and Tacitus can
be more interesting to a true judge of human nature and society.
But these, sir, are small reasons, in my opinion, compared with
the chance which your life will give for the forming of future
great men; and in conjunction with your Art of Virtue (which you
design to publish) of improving the features of private character,
and consequently of aiding all happiness, both public and domestic.
The two works I allude to, sir, will in particular give a noble
rule and example of self-education. School and other education
constantly proceed upon false principles, and show a clumsy
apparatus pointed at a false mark; but your apparatus is simple,
and the mark a true one; and while parents and young persons
are left destitute of other just means of estimating and becoming
prepared for a reasonable course in life, your discovery that
the thing is in many a man's private power, will be invaluable!
Influence upon the private character, late in life, is not only
an influence late in life, but a weak influence. It is in youth
that we plant our chief habits and prejudices; it is in youth
that we take our party as to profession, pursuits and matrimony.
In youth, therefore, the turn is given; in youth the education even
of the next generation is given; in youth the private and public
character is determined; and the term of life extending but from youth
to age, life ought to begin well from youth, and more especially
before we take our party as to our principal objects. But your
biography will not merely teach self-education, but the education
of a wise man; and the wisest man will receive lights and improve
his progress, by seeing detailed the conduct of another wise man.
And why are weaker men to be deprived of such helps, when we see
our race has been blundering on in the dark, almost without a guide
in this particular, from the farthest trace of time? Show then,
sir, how much is to be done, both to sons and fathers; and invite
all wise men to become like yourself, and other men to become wise.
When we see how cruel statesmen and warriors can be to the human race,
and how absurd distinguished men can be to their acquaintance,
it will be instructive to observe the instances multiply of pacific,
acquiescing manners; and to find how compatible it is to be great
and domestic, enviable and yet good-humored.
"The little private incidents which you will also have to relate,
will have considerable use, as we want, above all things, rules of
prudence in ordinary affairs; and it will be curious to see how you
have acted in these. It will be so far a sort of key to life,
and explain many things that all men ought to have once explained
to them, to give, them a chance of becoming wise by foresight.
The nearest thing to having experience of one's own, is to have other
people's affairs brought before us in a shape that is interesting;
this is sure to happen from your pen; our affairs and management will
have an air of simplicity or importance that will not fail to strike;
and I am convinced you have conducted them with as much originality
as if you had been conducting discussions in politics or philosophy;
and what more worthy of experiments and system (its importance and its
errors considered) than human life?
"Some men have been virtuous blindly, others have speculated
fantastically, and others have been shrewd to bad purposes;
but you, sir, I am sure, will give under your hand, nothing but
what is at the same moment, wise, practical and good, your account
of yourself (for I suppose the parallel I am drawing for Dr. Franklin,
will hold not only in point of character, but of private history)
will show that you are ashamed of no origin; a thing the more important,
as you prove how little necessary all origin is to happiness, virtue,
or greatness. As no end likewise happens without a means, so we
shall find, sir, that even you yourself framed a plan by which you
became considerable; but at the same time we may see that though
the event is flattering,the means are as simple as wisdom could
make them;that is, depending upon nature, virtue, thought and
habit.Another thing demonstrated will be the propriety of everyman's
waiting for his time for appearing upon the stage of the world.
Our sensations being very much fixed to the moment, we are apt to
forget that more moments are to follow the first, and consequently
that man should arrange his conduct so as to suit the whole of a life.
Your attribution appears to have been applied to your life, and the
passing moments of it have been enlivened with content and enjoyment
instead of being tormented with foolish impatience or regrets.
Such a conduct is easy for those who make virtue and themselves
in countenance by examples of other truly great men, of whom
patience is so often the characteristic. Your Quaker correspondent,
sir (for here again I will suppose the subject of my letter resembling
Dr. Franklin), praised your frugality, diligence and temperance,
which he considered as a pattern for all youth; but it is singular
that he should have forgotten your modesty and your disinterestedness,
without which you never could have waited for your advancement,
or found your situation in the mean time comfortable; which is
a strong lesson to show the poverty of glory and the importance
of regulating our minds. If this correspondent had known the nature
of your reputation as well as I do, he would have said, Your former
writings and measures would secure attention to your Biography,
and Art of Virtue; and your Biography and Art of Virtue, in return,
would secure attention to them. This is an advantage attendant upon
a various character, and which brings all that belongs to it into
greater play; and it is the more useful, as perhaps more persons
are at a loss for the means of improving their minds and characters,
than they are for the time or the inclination to do it. But there
is one concluding reflection, sir, that will shew the use of your life
as a mere piece of biography. This style of writing seems a little
gone out of vogue, and yet it is a very useful one; and your specimen
of it may be particularly serviceable, as it will make a subject of
comparison with the lives of various public cutthroats and intriguers,
and with absurd monastic self-tormentors or vain literary triflers.
If it encourages more writings of the same kind with your own,
and induces more men to spend lives fit to be written, it will be
worth all Plutarch's Lives put together. But being tired of figuring
to myself a character of which every feature suits only one man in
the world, without giving him the praise of it, I shall end my letter,
my dear Dr. Franklin, with a personal application to your proper self.
I am earnestly desirous, then, my dear sir, that you should let the
world into the traits of your genuine character, as civil broils nay
otherwise tend to disguise or traduce it. Considering your great age,
the caution of your character, and your peculiar style of thinking,
it is not likely that any one besides yourself can be sufficiently
master of the facts of your life, or the intentions of your mind.
Besides all this, the immense revolution of the present period,
will necessarily turn our attention towards the author of it,
and when virtuous principles have been pretended in it, it will be
highly important to shew that such have really influenced; and, as your
own character will be the principal one to receive a scrutiny,
it is proper (even for its effects upon your vast and rising country,
as well as upon England and upon Europe) that it should stand
respectable and eternal. For the furtherance of human happiness,
I have always maintained that it is necessary to prove that
man is not even at present a vicious and detestable animal;
and still more to prove that good management may greatly amend him;
and it is for much the same reason, that I am anxious to see
the opinion established, that there are fair characters existing
among the individuals of the race; for the moment that all men,
without exception, shall be conceived abandoned, good people will
cease efforts deemed to be hopeless, and perhaps think of taking
their share in the scramble of life, or at least of making it
comfortable principally for themselves. Take then, my dear sir,
this work most speedily into hand: shew yourself good as you are good;
temperate as you are temperate; and above all things, prove yourself
as one, who from your infancy have loved justice, liberty and concord,
in a way that has made it natural and consistent for you to have acted,
as we have seen you act in the last seventeen years of your life.
Let Englishmen be made not only to respect, but even to love you.
When they think well of individuals in your native country,
they will go nearer to thinking well of your country; and when your
countrymen see themselves well thought of by Englishmen, they will go
nearer to thinking well of England. Extend your views even further;
do not stop at those who speak the English tongue, but after having
settled so many points in nature and politics, think of bettering
the whole race of men. As I have not read any part of the life
in question, but know only the character that lived it, I write
somewhat at hazard. I am sure, however, that the life and the treatise
I allude to (on the Art of Virtue) will necessarily fulfil the chief
of my expectations; and still more so if you take up the measure
of suiting these performances to the several views above stated.
Should they even prove unsuccessful in all that a sanguine admirer
of yours hopes from them, you will at least have framed pieces
to interest the human mind; and whoever gives a feeling of pleasure
that is innocent to man, has added so much to the fair side of a life
otherwise too much darkened by anxiety and too much injured by pain.
In the hope, therefore, that you will listen to the prayer addressed
to you in this letter, I beg to subscribe myself, my dearest sir,
etc., etc.,
"Signed, BENJ. VAUGHAN."
Continuation of the Account of my Life, begun at Passy, near Paris, 1784.
It is some time since I receiv'd the above letters, but I have been
too busy till now to think of complying with the request they contain.
It might, too, be much better done if I were at home among my papers,
which would aid my memory, and help to ascertain dates; but my
return being uncertain and having just now a little leisure, I will
endeavor to recollect and write what I can; if I live to get home,
it may there be corrected and improv'd.
Not having any copy here of what is already written, I know
not whether an account is given of the means I used to establish
the Philadelphia public library, which, from a small beginning,
is now become so considerable, though I remember to have come
down to near the time of that transaction (1730). I will therefore
begin here with an account of it, which may be struck out if found
to have been already given.
At the time I establish'd myself in Pennsylvania, there was not a good
bookseller's shop in any of the colonies to the southward of Boston.
In New York and Philad'a the printers were indeed stationers; they sold
only paper, etc., almanacs, ballads, and a few common school-books. Those
who lov'd reading were oblig'd to send for their books from England;
the members of the Junto had each a few. We had left the alehouse,
where we first met, and hired a room to hold our club in.
I propos'd that we should all of us bring our books to that room,
where they would not only be ready to consult in our conferences,
but become a common benefit, each of us being at liberty to borrow
such as he wish'd to read at home. This was accordingly done,
and for some time contented us.
Finding the advantage of this little collection, I propos'd to
render the benefit from books more common, by commencing a public
subscription library. I drew a sketch of the plan and rules that would
be necessary, and got a skilful conveyancer, Mr. Charles Brockden,
to put the whole in form of articles of agreement to be subscribed,
by which each subscriber engag'd to pay a certain sum down for the first
purchase of books, and an annual contribution for increasing them.
So few were the readers at that time in Philadelphia, and the majority
of us so poor, that I was not able, with great industry, to find
more than fifty persons, mostly young tradesmen, willing to pay down
for this purpose forty shillings each, and ten shillings per annum.
On this little fund we began. The books were imported; the library
wag opened one day in the week for lending to the subscribers,
on their promissory notes to pay double the value if not duly returned.
The institution soon manifested its utility, was imitated by
other towns, and in other provinces. The libraries were augmented
by donations; reading became fashionable; and our people,
having no publick amusements to divert their attention from study,
became better acquainted with books, and in a few years were
observ'd by strangers to be better instructed and more intelligent
than people of the same rank generally are in other countries.
When we were about to sign the above-mentioned articles, which were
to be binding upon us, our heirs, etc., for fifty years, Mr. Brockden,
the scrivener, said to us, "You are young men, but it is scarcely
probable that any of you will live to see the expiration of the term
fix'd in the instrument." A number of us, however, are yet living;
but the instrument was after a few years rendered null by a charter
that incorporated and gave perpetuity to the company.
The objections and reluctances I met with in soliciting the subscriptions,
made me soon feel the impropriety of presenting one's self as the
proposer of any useful project, that might be suppos'd to raise one's
reputation in the smallest degree above that of one's neighbors,
when one has need of their assistance to accomplish that project.
I therefore put myself as much as I could out of sight, and stated
it as a scheme of a number of friends, who had requested me to go
about and propose it to such as they thought lovers of reading.
In this way my affair went on more smoothly, and I ever after
practis'd it on such occasions; and, from my frequent successes,
can heartily recommend it. The present little sacrifice of your
vanity will afterwards be amply repaid. If it remains a while
uncertain to whom the merit belongs, some one more vain than
yourself will be encouraged to claim it, and then even envy will
be disposed to do you justice by plucking those assumed feathers,
and restoring them to their right owner.
This library afforded me the means of improvement by constant study,
for which I set apart an hour or two each day, and thus repair'd
in some degree the loss of the learned education my father once
intended for me. Reading was the only amusement I allow'd myself.
I spent no time in taverns, games, or frolicks of any kind;
and my industry in my business continu'd as indefatigable
as it was necessary. I was indebted for my printing-house;
I had a young family coming on to be educated, and I had to contend
with for business two printers, who were established in the place
before me. My circumstances, however, grew daily easier.
My original habits of frugality continuing, and my father having,
among his instructions to me when a boy, frequently repeated a proverb
of Solomon, "Seest thou a man diligent in his calling, he shall stand
before kings, he shall not stand before mean men," I from thence
considered industry as a means of obtaining wealth and distinction,
which encourag'd me, tho' I did not think that I should ever
literally stand before kings, which, however, has since happened;
for I have stood before five, and even had the honor of sitting
down with one, the King of Denmark, to dinner.
We have an English proverb that says, "He that would thrive, must ask
his wife." It was lucky for me that I had one as much dispos'd
to industry and frugality as myself. She assisted me cheerfully
in my business, folding and stitching pamphlets, tending shop,
purchasing old linen rags for the papermakers, etc., etc. We kept
no idle servants, our table was plain and simple, our furniture
of the cheapest. For instance, my breakfast was a long time bread
and milk (no tea), and I ate it out of a twopenny earthen porringer,
with a pewter spoon. But mark how luxury will enter families,
and make a progress, in spite of principle: being call'd one morning
to breakfast, I found it in a China bowl, with a spoon of silver!
They had been bought for me without my knowledge by my wife,
and had cost her the enormous sum of three-and-twenty shillings,
for which she had no other excuse or apology to make, but that she
thought her husband deserv'd a silver spoon and China bowl as well
as any of his neighbors. This was the first appearance of plate
and China in our house, which afterward, in a course of years,
as our wealth increas'd, augmented gradually to several hundred pounds
in value.
I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian; and tho'
some of the dogmas of that persuasion, such as the eternal decrees
of God, election, reprobation, etc., appeared to me unintelligible,
others doubtful, and I early absented myself from the public
assemblies of the sect, Sunday being my studying day, I never was
without some religious principles. I never doubted, for instance,
the existence of the Deity; that he made the world, and govern'd
it by his Providence; that the most acceptable service of God was
the doing good to man; that our souls are immortal; and that all crime
will be punished, and virtue rewarded, either here or hereafter.
These I esteem'd the essentials of every religion; and, being to
be found in all the religions we had in our country, I respected
them all, tho' with different degrees of respect, as I found them
more or less mix'd with other articles, which, without any tendency
to inspire, promote, or confirm morality, serv'd principally
to divide us, and make us unfriendly to one another. This respect
to all, with an opinion that the worst had some good effects,
induc'd me to avoid all discourse that might tend to lessen
the good opinion another might have of his own religion; and as
our province increas'd in people, and new places of worship were
continually wanted, and generally erected by voluntary contributions,
my mite for such purpose, whatever might be the sect, was never refused.
Tho' I seldom attended any public worship, I had still an opinion
of its propriety, and of its utility when rightly conducted,
and I regularly paid my annual subscription for the support of
the only Presbyterian minister or meeting we had in Philadelphia.
He us'd to visit me sometimes as a friend, and admonish me
to attend his administrations, and I was now and then prevail'd
on to do so, once for five Sundays successively. Had he been
in my opinion a good preacher, perhaps I might have continued,
notwithstanding the occasion I had for the Sunday's leisure in my
course of study; but his discourses were chiefly either polemic
arguments, or explications of the peculiar doctrines of our sect,
and were all to me very dry, uninteresting, and unedifying,
since not a single moral principle was inculcated or enforc'd, their
aim seeming to be rather to make us Presbyterians than good citizens.
At length he took for his text that verse of the fourth chapter
of Philippians, "Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true,
honest, just, pure, lovely, or of good report, if there be any virtue,
or any praise, think on these things." And I imagin'd, in a sermon
on such a text, we could not miss of having some morality.
But he confin'd himself to five points only, as meant by the apostle,
viz.: 1. Keeping holy the Sabbath day. 2. Being diligent in reading
the holy Scriptures. 3. Attending duly the publick worship.
4. Partaking of the Sacrament. 5. Paying a due respect to
God's ministers. These might be all good things; but, as they
were not the kind of good things that I expected from that text,
I despaired of ever meeting with them from any other, was disgusted,
and attended his preaching no more. I had some years before compos'd
a little Liturgy, or form of prayer, for my own private use (viz.,
in 1728), entitled, Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion.
I return'd to the use of this, and went no more to the public assemblies.
My conduct might be blameable, but I leave it, without attempting
further to excuse it; my present purpose being to relate facts,
and not to make apologies for them.
It was about this time I conceiv'd the bold and arduous project
of arriving at moral perfection. I wish'd to live without
committing any fault at any time; I would conquer all that either
natural inclination, custom, or company might lead me into. As I knew,
or thought I knew, what was right and wrong, I did not see why I
might not always do the one and avoid the other. But I soon found
I had undertaken a task of more difficulty than I bad imagined.
While my care was employ'd in guarding against one fault, I was
often surprised by another; habit took the advantage of inattention;
inclination was sometimes too strong for reason. I concluded, at length,
that the mere speculative conviction that it was our interest to be
completely virtuous, was not sufficient to prevent our slipping;
and that the contrary habits must be broken, and good ones acquired
and established, before we can have any dependence on a steady,
uniform rectitude of conduct. For this purpose I therefore contrived
the following method.
In the various enumerations of the moral virtues I had met
with in my reading, I found the catalogue more or less numerous,
as different writers included more or fewer ideas under the same name.
Temperance, for example, was by some confined to eating and drinking,
while by others it was extended to mean the moderating every
other pleasure, appetite, inclination, or passion, bodily or mental,
even to our avarice and ambition. I propos'd to myself, for the sake
of clearness, to use rather more names, with fewer ideas annex'd
to each, than a few names with more ideas; and I included under
thirteen names of virtues all that at that time occurr'd to me
as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept,
which fully express'd the extent I gave to its meaning.
These names of virtues, with their precepts, were:
My intention being to acquire the habitude of all these virtues,
I judg'd it would be well not to distract my attention by attempting
the whole at once, but to fix it on one of them at a time; and, when I
should be master of that, then to proceed to another, and so on,
till I should have gone thro' the thirteen; and, as the previous
acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of certain others,
I arrang'd them with that view, as they stand above. Temperance first,
as it tends to procure that coolness and clearness of head, which is
so necessary where constant vigilance was to be kept up, and guard
maintained against the unremitting attraction of ancient habits,
and the force of perpetual temptations. This being acquir'd
and establish'd, Silence would be more easy; and my desire being
to gain knowledge at the same time that I improv'd in virtue,
and considering that in conversation it was obtain'd rather by the use
of the ears than of the tongue, and therefore wishing to break
a habit I was getting into of prattling, punning, and joking,
which only made me acceptable to trifling company, I gave Silence
the second place. This and the next, Order, I expected would
allow me more time for attending to my project and my studies.
Resolution, once become habitual, would keep me firm in my endeavors
to obtain all the subsequent virtues; Frugality and Industry freeing
me from my remaining debt, and producing affluence and independence,
would make more easy the practice of Sincerity and Justice, etc., etc.
Conceiving then, that, agreeably to the advice of Pythagoras
in his Golden Verses, daily examination would be necessary,
I contrived the following method for conducting that examination.
I made a little book, in which I allotted a page for each of the virtues.
I rul'd each page with red ink, so as to have seven columns,
one for each day of the week, marking each column with a letter
for the day. I cross'd these columns with thirteen red lines,
marking the beginning of each line with the first letter of one of
the virtues, on which line, and in its proper column, I might mark,
by a little black spot, every fault I found upon examination
to have been committed respecting that virtue upon that day.
I determined to give a week's strict attention to each of
the virtues successively. Thus, in the first week, my great
guard was to avoid every the least offence against Temperance,
leaving the other virtues to their ordinary chance, only marking
every evening the faults of the day. Thus, if in the first week
I could keep my first line, marked T, clear of spots, I suppos'd
the habit of that virtue so much strengthen'd and its opposite
weaken'd, that I might venture extending my attention to include
the next, and for the following week keep both lines clear of spots.
Proceeding thus to the last, I could go thro' a course compleat
in thirteen weeks, and four courses in a year. And like him who,
having a garden to weed, does not attempt to eradicate all the bad
herbs at once, which would exceed his reach and his strength, but works
on one of the beds at a time, and, having accomplish'd the first,
proceeds to a second, so I should have, I hoped, the encouraging
pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress I made in virtue,
by clearing successively my lines of their spots, till in the end,
by a number of courses, I should he happy in viewing a clean book,
after a thirteen weeks' daily examination.
This my little book had for its motto these lines from Addison's Cato:
Another from Cicero,
Another from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking of wisdom or virtue:
And conceiving God to be the fountain of wisdom, I thought it
right and necessary to solicit his assistance for obtaining it;
to this end I formed the following little prayer, which was prefix'd
to my tables of examination, for daily use.
"O powerful Goodness! bountiful Father! merciful Guide!
increase in me that wisdom which discovers my truest interest.
strengthen my resolutions to perform what that wisdom dictates.
Accept my kind offices to thy other children as the only return
in my power for thy continual favors to me."
I used also sometimes a little prayer which I took from Thomson's Poems,
viz.:
The precept of Order requiring that every part of my business should
have its allotted time, one page in my little book contain'd the
following scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours of a natural day:
I enter'd upon the execution of this plan for self-examination,
and continu'd it with occasional intermissions for some time.
I was surpris'd to find myself so much fuller of faults than I
had imagined; but I had the satisfaction of seeing them diminish.
To avoid the trouble of renewing now and then my little book, which,
by scraping out the marks on the paper of old faults to make room
for new ones in a new course, became full of holes, I transferr'd
my tables and precepts to the ivory leaves of a memorandum book,
on which the lines were drawn with red ink, that made a durable stain,
and on those lines I mark'd my faults with a black-lead pencil,
which marks I could easily wipe out with a wet sponge. After a
while I went thro' one course only in a year, and afterward only
one in several years, till at length I omitted them entirely,
being employ'd in voyages and business abroad, with a multiplicity
of affairs that interfered; but I always carried my little book
with me.
My scheme of ORDER gave me the most trouble; and I found that, tho'
it might be practicable where a man's business was such as to leave
him the disposition of his time, that of a journeyman printer,
for instance, it was not possible to be exactly observed by a master,
who must mix with the world, and often receive people of business
at their own hours. Order, too, with regard to places for things,
papers, etc., I found extreamly difficult to acquire. I had not
been early accustomed to it, and, having an exceeding good memory,
I was not so sensible of the inconvenience attending want of method.
This article, therefore, cost me so much painful attention, and my faults
in it vexed me so much, and I made so little progress in amendment,
and had such frequent relapses, that I was almost ready to give up
the attempt, and content myself with a faulty character in that respect,
like the man who, in buying an ax of a smith, my neighbour,
desired to have the whole of its surface as bright as the edge.
The smith consented to grind it bright for him if he would turn
the wheel; he turn'd, while the smith press'd the broad face of
the ax hard and heavily on the stone, which made the turning of it
very fatiguing. The man came every now and then from the wheel to see
how the work went on, and at length would take his ax as it was,
without farther grinding. "No," said the smith, "turn on, turn on;
we shall have it bright by-and-by; as yet, it is only speckled."
"Yes," said the man, "but I think I like a speckled ax best."
And I believe this may have been the case with many, who, having,
for want of some such means as I employ'd, found the difficulty
of obtaining good and breaking bad habits in other points of vice
and virtue, have given up the struggle, and concluded that "a
speckled ax was best"; for something, that pretended to be reason,
was every now and then suggesting to me that such extream nicety as I
exacted of myself might be a kind of foppery in morals, which, if it
were known, would make me ridiculous; that a perfect character
might be attended with the inconvenience of being envied and hated;
and that a benevolent man should allow a few faults in himself,
to keep his friends in countenance.
In truth, I found myself incorrigible with respect to Order;
and now I am grown old, and my memory bad, I feel very sensibly
the want of it. But, on the whole, tho' I never arrived at
the perfection I had been so ambitious of obtaining, but fell far
short of it, yet I was, by the endeavour, a better and a happier
man than I otherwise should have been if I had not attempted it;
as those who aim at perfect writing by imitating the engraved copies,
tho' they never reach the wish'd-for excellence of those copies,
their hand is mended by the endeavor, and is tolerable while it
continues fair and legible.
It may be well my posterity should be informed that to this
little artifice, with the blessing of God, their ancestor ow'd the
constant felicity of his life, down to his 79th year, in which this
is written. What reverses may attend the remainder is in the hand
of Providence; but, if they arrive, the reflection on past happiness
enjoy'd ought to help his bearing them with more resignation.
To Temperance he ascribes his long-continued health, and what is
still left to him of a good constitution; to Industry and Frugality,
the early easiness of his circumstances and acquisition of his fortune,
with all that knowledge that enabled him to be a useful citizen,
and obtained for him some degree of reputation among the learned;
to Sincerity and Justice, the confidence of his country,
and the honorable employs it conferred upon him; and to the joint
influence of the whole mass of the virtues, even in the imperfect
state he was able to acquire them, all that evenness of temper,
and that cheerfulness in conversation, which makes his company
still sought for, and agreeable even to his younger acquaintance.
I hope, therefore, that some of my descendants may follow the example
and reap the benefit.
It will be remark'd that, tho' my scheme was not wholly without religion,
there was in it no mark of any of the distingishing tenets of any
particular sect. I had purposely avoided them; for, being fully
persuaded of the utility and excellency of my method, and that it
might be serviceable to people in all religions, and intending
some time or other to publish it, I would not have any thing
in it that should prejudice any one, of any sect, against it.
I purposed writing a little comment on each virtue, in which I
would have shown the advantages of possessing it, and the mischiefs
attending its opposite vice; and I should have called my book THE
ART OF VIRTUE,(7) because it would have shown the means and manner
of obtaining virtue, which would have distinguished it from the mere
exhortation to be good, that does not instruct and indicate the means,
but is like the apostle's man of verbal charity, who only without
showing to the naked and hungry how or where they might get clothes
or victuals, exhorted them to be fed and clothed.--James ii. 15, 16.
7. Nothing so likely to make a man's fortune as virtue.
--[Marg. note.]
But it so happened that my intention of writing and publishing this
comment was never fulfilled. I did, indeed, from time to time,
put down short hints of the sentiments, reasonings, etc., to be made
use of in it, some of which I have still by me; but the necessary
close attention to private business in the earlier part of thy life,
and public business since, have occasioned my postponing it; for,
it being connected in my mind with a great and extensive project,
that required the whole man to execute, and which an unforeseen
succession of employs prevented my attending to, it has hitherto
remain'd unfinish'd.
In this piece it was my design to explain and enforce this doctrine,
that vicious actions are not hurtful because they are forbidden,
but forbidden because they are hurtful, the nature of man
alone considered; that it was, therefore, every one's interest to be
virtuous who wish'd to be happy even in this world; and I should,
from this circumstance (there being always in the world a number
of rich merchants, nobility, states, and princes, who have need
of honest instruments for the management of their affairs,
and such being so rare), have endeavored to convince young persons
that no qualities were so likely to make a poor man's fortune
as those of probity and integrity.
My list of virtues contain'd at first but twelve; but a Quaker
friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought proud;
that my pride show'd itself frequently in conversation; that I
was not content with being in the right when discussing any point,
but was overbearing, and rather insolent, of which he convinc'd
me by mentioning several instances; I determined endeavouring
to cure myself, if I could, of this vice or folly among the rest,
and I added Humility to my list) giving an extensive meaning to
the word.
I cannot boast of much success in acquiring the reality of this virtue,
but I had a good deal with regard to the appearance of it.
I made it a rule to forbear all direct contradiction to the
sentiments of others, and all positive assertion of my own.
I even forbid myself, agreeably to the old laws of our Junto,
the use of every word or expression in the language that imported
a fix'd opinion, such as certainly, undoubtedly, etc., and I adopted,
instead of them, I conceive, I apprehend, or I imagine a thing to be
so or so; or it so appears to me at present. When another asserted
something that I thought an error, I deny'd myself the pleasure
of contradicting him abruptly, and of showing immediately some
absurdity in his proposition; and in answering I began by observing
that in certain cases or circumstances his opinion would be right,
but in the present case there appear'd or seem'd to me some difference,
etc. I soon found the advantage of this change in my manner;
the conversations I engag'd in went on more pleasantly. The modest
way in which I propos'd my opinions procur'd them a readier recep tion
and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found
to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevail'd with others to give
up their mistakes and join with me when I happened to be in the right.
And this mode, which I at first put on with some violence to
natural inclination, became at length so easy, and so habitual
to me, that perhaps for these fifty years past no one has ever
heard a dogmatical expression escape me. And to this habit (after
my character of integrity) I think it principally owing that I
had early so much weight with my fellow-citizens when I proposed
new institutions, or alterations in the old, and so much influence
in public councils when I became a member; for I was but a bad speaker,
never eloquent, subject to much hesitation in my choice of words,
hardly correct in language, and yet I generally carried my points.
In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions
so hard to subdue as pride. Disguise it, struggle with it,
beat it down, stifle it, mortify it as much as one pleases, it is
still alive, and will every now and then peep out and show itself;
you will see it, perhaps, often in this history; for, even if I
could conceive that I had compleatly overcome it, I should probably
be proud of my humility.
[Thus far written at Passy, 1741.]
Part II
The foregoing letter and the minutes accompanying it being shown
to a friend, I received from him the following:
1. TEMPERANCE. Eat not to dullness; drink not to elevation.
2. SILENCE. Speak not but what may benefit others or yourself;
avoid trifling conversation.
3. ORDER. Let all your things have their places; let each part
of your business have its time.
4. RESOLUTION. Resolve to perform what you ought; perform without
fail what you resolve.
5. FRUGALITY. Make no expense but to do good to others or yourself;
i.e., waste nothing.
6. INDUSTRY. Lose no time; be always employ'd in something useful;
cut off all unnecessary actions.
7. SINCERITY. Use no hurtful deceit; think innocently and justly,
and, if you speak, speak accordingly.
8. JUSTICE. Wrong none by doing injuries, or omitting the benefits
that are your duty.
9. MODERATION. Avoid extreams; forbear resenting injuries so much
as you think they deserve.
10. CLEANLINESS. Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, cloaths,
or habitation.
11. TRANQUILLITY. Be not disturbed at trifles, or at accidents
common or unavoidable.
12. CHASTITY. Rarely use venery but for health or offspring,
never to dulness, weakness, or the injury of your own or another's
peace or reputation.
13. HUMILITY. Imitate Jesus and Socrates.
"Here will I hold. If there's a power above us
(And that there is all nature cries aloud
Thro' all her works), He must delight in virtue;
And that which he delights in must be happy."
"O vitae Philosophia dux! O virtutum indagatrix
expultrixque vitiorum! Unus dies, bene et ex praeceptis
tuis actus, peccanti immortalitati est anteponendus."
"Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand
riches and honour. Her ways are ways of pleasantness,
and all her paths are peace." iii. 16, 17.
"Father of light and life, thou Good Supreme!
O teach me what is good; teach me Thyself!
Save me from folly, vanity, and vice,
From every low pursuit; and fill my soul
With knowledge, conscious peace, and virtue pure;
Sacred, substantial, never-fading bliss!"
THE MORNING. { 5 } Rise, wash, and address
{ } Powerful Goodness! Contrive
Question. What good shall { 6 } day's business, and take the
I do this day? { } resolution of the day; prose-
{ 7 } cute the present study, and
{ } breakfast.
8 }
9 } Work.
10 }
11 }
NOON. { 12 } Read, or overlook my ac-
{ 1 } counts, and dine.
2 }
3 } Work.
4 }
5 }
EVENING. { 6 } Put things in their places.
{ 7 } Supper. Music or diversion,
Question. What good have { 8 } or conversation. Examination
I done to-day? { 9 } of the day.
{ 10 }
{ 11 }
{ 12 }
NIGHT. { 1 } Sleep.
{ 2 }
{ 3 }
{ 4 }