Chapter XV: Part 15

It follows as closely as can be, that because the king has been a good and deserving king, and had been at much trouble and expense for the safety and honour of the nation, that therefore all his wants shall be supplied _out of the Church_! as if all the charges that he had been at, were upon the account only of his Ecclesiastical subjects, and not in relation to the rest.

It is not, Sir, for you or I to guess, which way the whole Clergy in general, might be better provided for. But, sure it is, and must not be denied, that so long as many Livings continue as they now are, thus impoverished; and that there be so few encouragements for men of sobriety, wisdom, and learning: we have no reason to expect much better Instructors and Governors of parishes, than at present we commonly find.

There is a way, I know, that some people love marvellously to talk of; and that is a just and equal levelling of Ecclesiastical preferments.

"What a delicate refreshment," say they, "would it be, if £20,000 or £30,000 a year were taken from the Bishops, and discreetly sprinkled amongst the poorer and meaner sort of the Clergy! how would it rejoice their hearts, and encourage them in their Office! What need those great and sumptuous palaces, their city and their country houses, their parks and spacious waters, their costly dishes and fashionable sauces? May not he that lives in a small thatched house, that can scarcely walk four strides in his own ground, that has only _read_ well concerning venison, fish, and fowl: may not he, I say, preach as loud and to as much purpose as one of those high and mighty Spiritualists? Go to, then! Seeing it hath pleased GOD to make such a bountiful provision for His Church in general, what need we be solicitous about the emending the low condition of many of the Clergy, when as there is such a plain remedy at hand, had we but grace to apply it?"

This invention pleases some mainly well. But for all the great care they pretend to have of the distressed part of the Clergy, I am confident, one might easily guess what would please them much better! if (instead of augmenting small benefices) the Bishops would be pleased to return to them, those lands purchased in their absence [_i.e., during the Commonwealth, which were restored to the Bishoprics at the Restoration_]: and then, as for the relieving of the Clergy, they would try if they could find out another way!

But, art thou in good earnest? my excellent Contriver! Dost thou think that if the greatest of our Church preferments were wisely parcelled out amongst those that are in want, it would do such feats and courtesies? And dost thou not likewise think, that if ten or twenty of the lustiest Noblemen's estates of England were cleverly sliced among the indigent; would it not strangely refresh some of the poor Laity that cry "Small Coal!" or grind scissors! I do suppose if GOD should afterwards incline thy mind (for I fancy it will not be as yet, a good while!) to be a Benefactor to the Church; thy wisdom may possibly direct thee to disperse thy goodness in smaller parcels, rather than to flow in upon two or three with full happiness.

But if it be my inclination to settle upon one Ecclesiastical person and his successors for ever, a £1,000 a year [= £3,000 _now_] upon condition only to read the _Service_ of the Church once in a week; and you take it ill, and find fault with my prudence and the method of my munificence, and say that "the stipend is much too large for such a small task": yet, I am confident, that should I make thy Laityship heir of such an estate, and oblige thee only to the trouble and expense of spending a single chicken or half a dozen larks once a year, in commemoration of me; that thou wouldst count me the wisest man that ever was, since the Creation! and pray to GOD never to dispose thy mind, to part with one farthing of it for any other use, than for the service of thyself and thy family.

And yet so it is, that, because the Bishops, upon their first being restored [in 1660], had the confidence to levy fines, according as they were justly due; and desired to live in their own houses, if not pulled down! and to receive their own rents: presently, they cry out, "The Churchmen have got all the treasure and money of the nation into their hands."

If they have, let them thank GOD for it! and make a good use of it. Weep not, Beloved! for there is very little hope that they will cast it all into the sea, on purpose to stop the mouths of them, that say "they have too much!"

What other contrivances there may be, for the settling upon Ministers in general, a sufficient revenue for their subsistence and encouragement in their office; I shall leave to be considered of, by the Governors of Learning and Religion.

Only thus much is certain, that so long as the maintenance of many Ministers is so very small, it is not to be avoided, but that a great part of them will want learning, prudence, courage, and esteem to do any good where they live.

And what if we have (as by all must be acknowledged) as wise and learned Bishops as be in the world, and many others of very great understanding and wisdom; yet (as was before hinted) unless there be provided for most towns and parishes some tolerable and sufficient Guides, the strength of Religion, and the credit of the Clergy will daily languish more and more.

Not that it is to be believed that every small country parish should be altogether hopeless as to the next life, unless they have a HOOKER, a CHILLINGWORTH, a HAMMOND, or a SANDERSON dwelling amongst them: but it is requisite, and might be brought about, that somebody there should be, to whom the people have reason to attend, and to be directed and guided by him.

I have, Sir, no more to say, were it not that you find the word _Religion_ in the Title: of which in particular I have spoken very little. Neither need I! considering how nearly it depends, as to its glory and strength, upon the reputation and mouth of the Priest.

And I shall add no more but this, viz., that among those many things that tend to the decay of Religion, and of a due reverence of the _Holy Scriptures_, nothing has more occasioned it than the ridiculous and idle discourses that are uttered out of pulpits. For when the Gallants of the world do observe how the Ministers themselves do jingle, quibble, and play the fool with the Texts: no wonder, if they, who are so inclinable to Atheism, do not only deride and despise the Priests; but droll upon the _Bible_! and make a mock of all that is sober and sacred!

I am, Sir, Your most humble servant,

T.B.

_August_ 8, 1670.

FINIS.

ISAAC BICKERSTAFF

[_i.e._, RICHARD STEELE].

_The miseries of the Domestic Chaplain, in_ 1710.

[_The Tatler_. No. 255. Thursday, 23 Nov. 1710.]

_To the Censor of Great Britain.

Sir,

I am at present, under very great difficulties; which is not in the power of any one besides yourself, to redress. Whether or not, you shall think it a proper Case to come before your Court of Honour, I cannot tell: but thus it is.

I am Chaplain to an honourable Family, very regular at the Hours of Devotion, and I hope of an unblameable life: but, for not offering to rise at the Second Course, I found my Patron and his Lady very sullen and out of humour; though, at first, I did not know the reason of it.

At length, when I happened to help myself to a jelly, the Lady of the house, otherwise a devout woman, told me "It did not become a Man of my Cloth, to delight in such frivolous food!" But as I still continued to sit out the last course, I was yesterday informed by the butler, that "His Lordship had no further occasion for my service."

All which is humbly submitted to your consideration, by,

Sir,

Your most humble servant, &c._

The case of this Gentleman deserves pity, especially if he loves sweetmeats; to which, if I may guess by his letter, he is no enemy.

In the meantime, I have often wondered at the indecency of discarding the holiest man from the table, as soon as the most delicious parts of the entertainment are served up: and could never conceive a reason for so absurd a custom.

Is it because a licorous palate, or a sweet tooth (as they call it), is not consistent with the sanctity of his character?

This is but a trifling pretence! No man of the most rigid virtue, gives offence by any excesses in plum pudding or plum porridge; and that, because they are the first parts of the dinner. Is there anything that tends to _incitation_ in sweetmeats, more than in ordinary dishes? Certainly not! Sugar-plums are a very innocent diet; and conserves of a much colder nature than your common pickles.

I have sometimes thought that the Ceremony of the _Chaplain flying away from the Dessert_ was typical and figurative. To mark out to the company, how they ought to retire from all the luscious baits of temptation, and deny their appetites the gratifications that are most pleasing to them.

Or, at least, to signify that we ought to stint ourselves in the most lawful satisfactions; and not make our Pleasure, but our Support the end of eating.

But, most certainly, if such a lesson of temperance had been necessary at a table: our Clergy would have recommended it to all the Lay masters of families; and not have disturbed other men's tables with such unreasonable examples of abstinence.

The original therefore of this _barbarous custom_, I take to have been merely accidental.

The Chaplain retired, out of pure complaisance, to make room for the removal of the dishes, or possibly for the ranging of the dessert. This, by degrees, grew into a duty; till, at length, as the fashion improved, the good man found himself cut off from the Third part of the entertainment: and, if the arrogance of the Patron goes on, it is not impossible but, in the next generation, he may see himself reduced to the Tithe or Tenth Dish of the table. A sufficient caution not to part with any privilege we are once possessed of!

It was usual for the Priest, in old times, to feast upon the sacrifice, nay the honey cake; while the hungry Laity looked upon him with great devotion: or, as the late Lord ROCHESTER describes it in a very lively manner,

_And while the Priest did eat, the People stared_.

At present, the custom is inverted. The Laity feast while the Priest stands by as an humble spectator.

This necessarily puts the good man upon making great ravages on all the dishes that stand near him; and upon distinguishing himself by voraciousness of appetite, as knowing that "his time is short."

I would fain ask these stiff-necked Patrons, Whether they would not take it ill of a Chaplain that, in his grace, after meat, should return thanks for the whole entertainment, with an exception to the dessert? And yet I cannot but think that in such a proceeding, he would but deal with them as they deserved.

What would a Roman Catholic priest think (who is always helped first, and placed next the ladies), should he see a Clergyman giving his company the slip at the first appearance of the tarts or sweetmeats? Would he not believe that he had the same antipathy to a candid orange or a piece of puff paste, as some have to a Cheshire cheese or a breast of mutton?

Yet to so ridiculous a height is this foolish custom grown, that even the Christmas Pie, which in its very nature is a kind of consecrated cake and a badge of distinction, is often forbidden to the Druid of the family.

Strange! that a sirloin of beef, whether boiled or roasted, when entire, is exposed to his utmost depredations and incisions; but if minced into small pieces and tossed up with plums and sugar, it changes its property; and, forsooth, it is meat for his Master!

In this Case, I know not which to censure [_blame_], the Patron or the Chaplain! the insolence of power, or the abjectness of dependence!

For my own part, I have often blushed to see a Gentleman, whom I knew to have more Wit and Learning than myself, and who was bred up with me at the University upon the same foot of a liberal education, treated in such an ignominious manner; and sunk beneath those of his own rank, by reason of that character which ought to bring him honour.

This deters men of generous minds from placing themselves in such a station of life; and by that means frequently excludes Persons of Quality from the improving and agreeable conversation of a learned and obsequious friend.

Mr. OLDHAM lets us know that he was affrighted from the thought of such an employment, by the scandalous sort of treatment, which often accompanies it.

_Some think themselves exalted to the sky,
If they light in some noble family:
Diet, a horse, and Thirty pounds a year;
Besides th' advantage of his Lordship's ear,
The credit of the business, and the State;

Are things that in a youngster's sense sound_ great.
_Little the unexperienced wretch does know,
What slavery he oft must undergo!
Who, though in silken scarf and cassock drest,
Wears but a gayer_ livery, _at best.
When dinner calls, the Implement must wait,
With holy words to consecrate the meat:
But hold it, for a favour seldom known,
If he be deigned the honour to sit down!
Soon as the tarts appear, "Sir CRAPE, withdraw!
These dainties are not for a spiritual maw!
Observe your distance! and be sure to stand
Hard by the cistern with your cap in hand!
There, for diversion, you may pick your teeth
Till the kind Voider comes for your relief."

Let others who, such meannesses can brook,
Strike countenance to every Great Man's look:
I rate my freedom higher!_

The author's raillery is the raillery of a friend, and does not turn the Sacred Order into ridicule: but it is a just censure on such persons as take advantages from the necessities of a Man of Merit, to impose upon him hardships that are by no means suitable to the dignity of his profession.

NESTOR IRONSIDE

[_i.e., RICHARD STEELE_].

_Another description of the miseries of the Domestic Chaplain, in_ 1713, A.D.

[_The Guardian_. No. 173. Thursday, 17 Sept. 1713.]

When I am disposed to give myself a day's rest, I order the _Lion_ to be opened [_i.e., a letter-box at BUTTON's Coffee-house_], and search into that magazine of intelligence for such letters as are to my purpose. The first I looked into, comes to me from one who is Chaplain to a great family.

He treats himself, in the beginning of it, after such a manner as I am persuaded no Man of Sense would treat him. Even the Lawyer, and the Physician to a Man of Quality, expect to be used like gentlemen; and much more, may any one of so superior a profession!

I am by no means encouraging that dispute, Whether the Chaplain, or the Master of the house be the better man, and the more to be respected? The two learned authors, Dr. HICKS and Mr. COLLIER (to whom I might add several others) are to be excused, if they have carried the point a little too high in favour of the Chaplain: since in so corrupt an Age as that we live in, the popular opinion runs so far into the other extreme.

The only controversy between the Patron and the Chaplain ought to be, Which should promote the good designs and interests of each other most? And, for my own part, I think it is the happiest circumstance in a great Estate or Title, that it qualifies a man for choosing, out of such a learned and valuable body of men as that of the English Clergy, a friend, a spiritual guide, and a companion.

The letter which I have received from one of this Order, is as follows:

_Mr. Guardian,

I hope you will not only indulge me in the liberty of two or three
questions; but also in the solution of them.

I haw had the honour, many years, of being Chaplain in a noble
Family; and of being accounted the_ highest servant _in the house:
either out of respect to my Cloth, or because I lie in the
uppermost garret.

Whilst my old Lord lived, his table was always adorned with useful
Learning and innocent Mirth, as well as covered with Plenty. I was
not looked upon as a piece of furniture, fit only to sanctify and
garnish a feast; but treated as a Gentleman, and generally desired
to fill up the conversation, an hour after I had done my duty_
[i.e., said grace after dinner].

_But now my young Lord is come to the Estate, I find I am looked
upon as a_ Censor Morum, _an obstacle to mirth and talk: and
suffered to retire constantly with_ "Prosperity to the Church!" _in
my mouth_ [i.e., after drinking this toast].

_I declare, solemnly, Sir, that I have heard nothing from all the
fine Gentlemen who visit us, more remarkable, for half a year, than
that one young Lord was seven times drunk at Genoa.

I have lately taken the liberty to stay three or four rounds_
[i.e., of the bottle] _beyond [the toast of]_ The Church! _to see
what topics of discourse they went upon: but, to my great surprise,
have hardly heard a word all the time, besides the Toasts. Then
they all stared full in my face, and shewed all the actions of
uneasiness till I was gone.

Immediately upon my departure, to use the words of an old Comedy,
"I find by the noise they make, that they had a mind to be
private."

I am at a loss to imagine what conversation they have among one
another, which I may not be present at: since I love innocent Mirth
as much as any of them; and am shocked with no freedoms whatsoever,
which are inconsistent with Christianity.

I have, with much ado, maintained my post hitherto at the dessert,
and every day eat a tart in the face of my Patron: but how long I
shall be invested with this privilege, I do not know. For the
servants, who do not see me supported as I was in my old Lord's
time, begin to brush very familiarly by me: and they thrust aside
my chair, when they set the sweetmeats on the table.

I have been born and educated a Gentleman, and desire you will make
the public sensible that the Christian Priesthood was never
thought, in any Age or country, to debase the Man who is a member
of it. Among the great services which your useful Papers daily do
to Religion, this perhaps will not be the least: and it will lay a
very great obligation on

Your unknown servant,

G.W._

BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.

_Poor RICHARD improved, Being an Almanac, &c., for the year of our Lord_ 1758.

RICHARD SAUNDERS. Philom.

Philadelphia.

COURTEOUS READER.

I have heard that nothing gives an author so great pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted by other learned authors. This pleasure I have seldom enjoyed. For though I have been, if I may say it without vanity, an _eminent_ author of _Almanacs_ annually, now a full quarter of a century, my brother authors in the same way, for what reason I know not, have ever been very sparing in their applauses; and no other author has taken the least notice of me: so that did not my writings produce me some solid Pudding, the great deficiency of Praise would have quite discouraged me.

I concluded at length, that the people were the best judges of my merit; for they buy my works: and besides, in my rambles, where I am not personally known, I have frequently heard one or other of my Adages repeated, with "as _Poor RICHARD_ says!" at the end of it. This gave me some satisfaction, as it shewed, not only that my Instructions were regarded, but discovered likewise some respect for my Authority. And I own, that to encourage the practice of remembering and repeating those wise Sentences: I have sometimes _quoted myself_ with great gravity.

Judge, then, how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going to relate to you!

I stopped my horse lately, where a great number of people were collected at a Vendue [_sale_] of Merchant's goods. The hour of sale not being come, they were conversing on the badness of the Times: and one of the company called to a clean old man, with white locks, "Pray, Father ABRAHAM! what do you think of the Times? Won't these heavy taxes quite ruin the country? How shall we be ever able to pay them? What would you advise us to?"

Father ABRAHAM stood up, and replied, "If you would have my advice; I will give it you, in short; for _a word to the wise is enough_, and _many words won't fill a bushel_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says."

They all joined, desiring him to speak his mind; and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows:

"Friends" says he, "and neighbours! The taxes are indeed very heavy; and if those laid on by the Government were the only ones we had to pay, we might the more easily discharge them: but we have many others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our IDLENESS, three times as much by our PRIDE, and four times as much by our FOLLY: and from these taxes, the Commissioners cannot ease, or deliver us by allowing an abatement. However let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us. _GOD helps them that help themselves_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says in his _Almanac_ of 1733."

It would be thought a hard Government that should tax its people One-tenth part of their TIME, to be employed in its service. But Idleness taxes many of us much more; if we reckon all that is spent in absolute sloth, or doing of nothing; with that which is spent in idle employments or amusements that amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on diseases, absolutely shortens life. _Sloth, like Rust, consumes faster than Labour wears; while the used key is always bright, as Poor RICHARD says_. But _dost thou love Life? Then do not squander time! for that's the stuff Life is made of_, as _Poor RICHARD says_.

How much more than is necessary do we spend in sleep? forgetting that _the sleeping fox catches no poultry_; and that _there will be sleeping enough in the grave_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says. If Time be of all things the most precious, _Wasting of Time must be_ (as _Poor RICHARD_ says) _the greatest prodigality;_ since, as he elsewhere tells us, _Lost time is never found again_; and what we call _Time enough! always prows little enough_. Let us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose: so, by diligence, shall we do more with less perplexity. _Sloth makes all things difficult, but Industry all things easy_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says: and _He that riseth late, must trot all day; and shall scarce overtake his business at night_. While _Laziness travels so slowly, that Poverty soon overtakes him_, as we read in _Poor RICHARD_; who adds, _Drive thy business! Let not that drive thee!_ and

_Early to bed, and early to rise,
Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise_.

So what signifies _wishing_ and _hoping_ for better Times! We may make these Times better, if we bestir ourselves! _Industry need not wish!_ as _Poor RICHARD_ says; and _He that lives on Hope, will die fasting. There are no gains without pains_. Then _Help hands! for I have no lands_; or if I have, they are smartly taxed. And as _Poor RICHARD_ likewise observes, _He that hath a Trade, hath an Estate_, and He that _hath a Calling, hath an Office of Profit and Honour_: but, then, the Trade must be worked at, and the Calling well followed, or neither the Estate, nor the Office, will enable us to pay our taxes.

If we are industrious, we shall never starve, for, as _Poor RICHARD_ says, _At the working man's houses Hunger looks in; but dares not enter_. Nor will the Bailiff, or the Constable enter: for _Industry pays debts, while, Despair increaseth them_, says _Poor RICHARD_.

What though you have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy. _Diligence is the Mother of Good-luck_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says; and _GOD gives ail things to Industry_. Then

_Plough deep, while sluggards sleep;
And you shall have corn to sell and to keep,_

says _Poor DICK_. Work while it is called to-day; for you know not, how much you may be hindered to-morrow: which makes _Poor RICHARD_ say, _One To-day is worth two To-morrows_, and farther, _Have you somewhat to do to-morrow? do it to-day!_

If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master should catch you idle? Are you then your own Master? _Be ashamed to catch yourself idle!_ as _Poor DICK_ says. When there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your country, and your gracious King; be up by peep of day! _Let not the sun look down, and say, "Inglorious, here he lies!"_ Handle your tools, without mittens! Remember that _The cat in glove catches no mice!_ as _Poor RICHARD_ says.

'Tis true there is much to be done; and perhaps you are weak handed; but stick to it steadily! and you will see great effects, For _Constant dropping wears away stones_, and _By diligence and patience, the mouse ate in two the cable_, and _little strokes fell great oaks_; as _Poor RICHARD_ says in his _Almanac_, the year I cannot, just now, remember.

Methinks, I hear some of you say, "Must a man afford himself no leisure?"

I will tell thee, my friend! what _Poor RICHARD_ says.

_Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure! and
Since thou art not sure of a minute, throw not away an hour!_

Leisure is time for doing something useful. This leisure the diligent man will obtain; but the lazy man never. So that, as _Poor RICHARD_ says, _A life of leisure, and a life of laziness are two things_. Do you imagine that Sloth will afford you more comfort than Labour? No! for as _Poor RICHARD_ says, _Trouble springs from idleness, and grievous toil from needless ease. Many without labour, would live by their Wits only; but they'll break, for want of Stock_ [_i.e._, Capital]. Whereas Industry gives comfort, and plenty, and respect. _Fly Pleasures! and they'll follow you! The diligent spinner has a large shift_, and

_Now I have a sheep and a cow
Everybody bids me "Good morrow."_

All which is well said by _Poor RICHARD_.

But with our Industry; we must likewise be Steady, Settled, and Careful: and oversee our own affairs _with our own eyes_, and not trust too much to others. For, as _Poor RICHARD_ says,

_I never saw an oft removed tree,
Nor yet an oft removed family,
That throve so well, as those that settled be_.

And again, _Three Removes are as bad as a Fire;_ and again _Keep thy shop! and thy shop will keep thee!_ and again, _If you would have your business done, go! if not, send!_ and again,

_He that by the plough would thrive;
Himself must either hold or drive_.

And again, _The Eye of the master will do more work than both his Hands;_ and again, _Want of Care does us more damage than Want of Knowledge;_ and again, _Not to oversee workmen, is to leave them your purse open_.

Trusting too much to others' care, is the ruin of many. For, as the Almanac says, _In the affairs of this world, men are saved, not by faith, but by the want of it_. But a man's own care is profitable; for, saith _Poor DICK, Learning is to the Studious,_ and _Riches to the Careful;_ as well as _Power to the Bold,_ and _Heaven to the Virtuous_. And further, _If you would have a faithful servant, and one that you like; serve yourself!_

And again, he adviseth to circumspection and care, even in the smallest matters; because sometimes, _A little neglect may breed great mischief_; adding, _For want of a nail, the shoe was lost; for want of a shoe, the horse was lost; and for want of a horse, the rider was lost_; being overtaken, and slain by the enemy. All for want of care about a horse-shoe nail.

So much for Industry, my friends! and attention to one's own business; but to these we must add FRUGALITY, if we would make our industry more certainly successful. _A man may_, if he knows not how to save as he gets, _keep his nose, all his life, to the grindstone; and die not worth a groat at last. A fat Kitchen makes a lean Will_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says, and

_Many estates are spent in the getting,
Since women, for Tea, forsook spinning and knitting;
And men, for Punch, forsook hewing and splitting_.

_If you would be healthy_, says he in another _Almanac, think of Saving, as well as of Getting! The Indies have not made Spain rich; because her Outgoes are greater than her Incomes_.

Away, then, with your expensive follies! and you will not have so much cause to complain of hard Times, heavy taxes, and chargeable families. For, as _Poor DICK_ says,

_Women and Wine, Game and Deceit,
Make the Wealth small, and the Wants great_.

And farther, _What maintains one vice, would bring up two children_.

You may think perhaps, that, a _little_ tea, or a _little_ punch, now and then; diet, a _little_ more costly; clothes, a _little_ finer; and a _little_ entertainment, now and then; can be no great matter. But remember what _Poor RICHARD_ says, _Many a Little makes a Mickle_; and farther, _Beware of little expenses! a small leak will sink a great ship_; and again, _Who dainties love; shall beggars prove!_ and moreover, _Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them_.

Here are you all got together at this Vendue of Fineries and knicknacks! You call them Goods: but if you do not take care, they will prove Evils to some of you! You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they may, for less than they cost; but if you have no occasion for them, they must be _dear_ to you! Remember what _Poor RICHARD_ says! _Buy what thou hast no need of, and, ere long, thou shalt sell thy necessaries!_ And again, _At a great pennyworth, pause a while!_ He means, that perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, and not real; or the bargain by straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm than good. For in another place, he says, _Many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths_.

Again, _Poor RICHARD_ says, _'Tis foolish, to lay out money in a purchase of Repentance_: and yet this folly is practised every day at Vendues, for want of minding the _Almanac_.

_Wise men_, as _Poor DICK_ says, _learn by others' harms; Fools, scarcely by their own_: but _Felix quem faciunt aliena pericula cautum_. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, has gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their families. _Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says, _put out the kitchen fire!_ These are not the necessaries of life; they can scarcely be called the conveniences: and yet only because they look pretty, how many _want_ to have them! The artificial wants of mankind thus become more numerous than the natural; and as _Poor DICK_ says, _For one poor person, there are a hundred_ indigent.

By these, and other extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised; but who, through Industry and Frugality, have maintained their standing. In which case, it appears plainly that _A ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of. They think _'tis day! and will never be night!_; that _a little to be spent out of so much I is not worth minding_ (_A Child and a Fool_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says, _imagine Twenty Shillings and Twenty Years can never be spent_): but _always taking out of the meal tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom_. Then, as _Poor DICK says_, _When the well's dry, they know the worth of water!_ but this they might have known before, if they had taken his advice. _If you would know the value of money; go, and try to borrow some!_ For, _he that goes a borrowing, goes a sorrowing!_ and indeed, so does he that lends to such people, _when he goes to get it in again!_

_Poor DICK_ further advises, and says

_Fond Pride of Dress is, sure, a very curse!
Ere Fancy you consult; consult your purse!_

And again, _Pride is as loud a, beggar as Want, and a great deal more saucy!_ When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of a piece; but _Poor DICK_ says, _'Tis easier to suppress the First desire, than to satisfy All that follow it_. And 'tis as truly folly, for the poor to ape the rich; as for the frog to swell, in order to equal the ox.

_Great Estates may venture more;
But little boats should keep near shore!_

'Tis, however, a folly soon punished! for Pride that _dines on Vanity, sups on Contempt_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says. And in another place. _Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined with Poverty, and supped with Infamy_.

And, after all, of what use is this Pride of Appearance? for which so much is risked, so much is suffered! It cannot promote health or ease pain! It makes no increase of merit in the person! It creates envy! It hastens misfortune!

_What is a butterfly? At best
He's but a caterpillar drest!
The gaudy fop's his picture just_.

as _Poor RICHARD_ says.

But what madness must it be, to _run into debt_ for these superfluities?

We are offered, by the terms of this Vendue, Six Months' Credit; and that, perhaps, has induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine without it. But, ah, think what you do, when you run in debt? _You give to another, power over your liberty!_ If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor! You will be in fear, when you speak to him! You will make poor pitiful sneaking excuses! and, by degrees, come to lose your veracity, and sink into base downright lying! For, as _Poor RICHARD_ says, _The second vice is Lying, the first is Running into Debt_: and again, to the same purpose, _Lying rides upon Debt's back_. Whereas a free born Englishman ought not to be ashamed or afraid to see, or speak to any man living. But Poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. _'Tis hard for an Empty Bag to stand upright!_ as _Poor RICHARD_ truly says. What would you think of that Prince, or the Government, who should issue an Edict forbidding you to dress like a Gentleman or Gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude. Would you not say that "You are free! have a right to dress as you please! and that such an Edict would be a breach of your privileges! and such a Government, tyrannical!" And yet you are about to put yourself under that tyranny, when you run in debt for such dress! Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liberty, by confining you in gaol for life! or to sell you for a servant, if you should not be able to pay him! When you have got your bargain; you may, perhaps, think little of payment, but _Creditors_ (_Poor RICHARD_ tells us) _have better memories than Debtors_; and, in another place, says, _Creditors are a superstitious sect! great observers of set days and times_. The day comes round, before you are aware; and the demand is made, before you are prepared to satisfy it: or, if you bear your debt in mind, the term which, at first, seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. TIME will seem to have added wings to his heels, as well as shoulders. _Those have a short Lent_, saith _Poor RICHARD, who owe money to be paid at Easter_. Then since, as he says, _The Borrower is a slave to the Lender, and the Debtor to the Creditor_; disdain the chain! preserve your freedom! and maintain your independency! Be industrious and free! be frugal and free! At present, perhaps, you may think yourself in thriving circumstances; and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury: but

_For Age and Want, save while you may!
No morning sun lasts a whole day,_

as _Poor RICHARD_ says.

Gain may be temporary and uncertain; but, ever while you live, Expense is constant and certain: and _'tis easier to build two chimneys than to keep one in fuel_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says. So _rather go to bed supperless, than rise in debt!_

_Get what you can! and what you get, hold!
'Tis the Stone that will turn all your lead into gold!_

as _Poor RICHARD_ says. And when you have got the Philosopher's Stone, sure, you will no longer complain of bad times, or the difficulty of paying taxes.

This doctrine, my friends! is Reason and Wisdom! But, after all, do not depend too much upon your own Industry, and Frugality, and Prudence; though excellent things! For they may all be blasted without the Blessing of Heaven: and, therefore, ask that Blessing humbly! and be not uncharitable to those that at present, seem to want it; but comfort and help them! Remember, JOB suffered, and was afterwards prosperous.

And now to conclude. _Experience keeps a dear school; but Fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that!_ for it is true, _We may give Advice, but we cannot give Conduct_, as _Poor RICHARD_ says. However, remember this! _They that won't be counselled, can't be helped!_ as _Poor RICHARD_ says: and farther, that, "_If you will not hear reason, she'll surely rap your knuckles!"_

Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it, and approved the doctrine; and immediately practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon! For the Vendue opened, and they began to buy extravagantly; notwithstanding all his cautions, and their own fear of taxes.

I found the good man had thoroughly studied my _Almanacs_, and digested all I had dropped on those topics during the course of five and twenty years. The frequent mention he made of me, must have tired any one else; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it: though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own, which he ascribed to me; but rather the gleanings I had made of the Sense of all Ages and Nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the Echo of it; and though I had, at first, determined to buy stuff for a new coat; I went away resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader! if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine.

I am, as ever, Thine, to serve thee!

July 7, 1757.

RICHARD SAUNDERS.