Chapter XIII: Introduction (12)

In the Middle of the great Hall stood a stately and magnificent Throne, which was ascended to by two high and difficult Steps. On the Top of it sat LEARNING in awful State; she was apparelled wholly in Black, and surrounded almost on every Side with innumerable Volumes in all Languages. She seem'd very busily employ'd in writing something on half a Sheet of Paper, and upon Enquiry, I understood she was preparing a Paper, call'd, _The New-England Courant_. On her Right Hand sat _English_, with a pleasant smiling Countenance, and handsomely attir'd; and on her left were seated several _Antique Figures_ with their Faces vail'd. I was considerably puzzl'd to guess who they were, until one informed me, (who stood beside me,) that those Figures on her left Hand were _Latin_, _Greek_, _Hebrew_, &c. and that they were very much reserv'd, and seldom or never unvail'd their Faces here, and then to few or none, tho' most of those who have in this Place acquir'd so much Learning as to distinguish them from _English_, pretended to an intimate Acquaintance with them. I then enquir'd of him, what could be the Reason why they continued vail'd, in this Place especially: He pointed to the Foot of the Throne, where I saw _Idleness_, attended with _Ignorance_, and these (he informed me) were they, who first vail'd them, and still kept them so.

Now I observed, that the whole Tribe who entred into the Temple with me, began to climb the Throne; but the Work; proving troublesome and difficult to most of them, they withdrew their Hands from the Plow, and contented themselves to sit at the Foot, with Madam _Idleness_ and her Maid _Ignorance_, until those who were assisted by Diligence and a docible Temper, had well nigh got up the first Step: But the Time drawing nigh in which they could no way avoid ascending, they were fain to crave the Assistance of those who had got up before them, and who, for the Reward perhaps of a _Pint of Milk_, or a _Piece of Plumb-Cake_, lent the Lubbers a helping Hand, and sat them in the Eye of the World, upon a Level with themselves.

The other Step being in the same Manner ascended, and the usual Ceremonies at an End, every Beetle-Scull seem'd well satisfy'd with his own Portion of Learning, tho' perhaps he was _e'en just_ as ignorant as ever. And now the Time of their Departure being come, they march'd out of Doors to make Room for another Company, who waited for Entrance: And I, having seen all that was to be seen, quitted the Hall likewise, and went to make my Observations on those who were just gone out before me.

Some I perceiv'd took to Merchandizing, others to Travelling, some to one Thing, some to another, and some to Nothing; and many of them from henceforth, for want of Patrimony, liv'd as poor as church Mice, being unable to dig, and asham'd to beg, and to live by their Wits it was impossible. But the most Part of the Crowd went along a large beaten Path, which led to a Temple at the further End of the Plain, call'd, _The Temple of Theology_. The Business of those who were employ'd in this Temple being laborious and painful, I wonder'd exceedingly to see so many go towards it; but while I was pondering this Matter in my Mind, I spy'd _Pecunia_ behind a Curtain, beckoning to them with her Hand, which Sight immediately satisfy'd me for whose Sake it was, that a great Part of them (I will not say all) travel'd that Road. In this Temple I saw nothing worth mentioning, except the ambitious and fraudulent Contrivances of _Plagius_, who (notwithstanding he had been severely reprehended for such Practices before) was diligently transcribing some eloquent Paragraphs out of _Tillotson's_ Works, &c. to embellish his own.

Now I bethought my self in my Sleep, that it was Time to be at Home, and as I fancy'd I was travelling back thither, I reflected in my Mind on the extream Folly of those Parents, who, blind to their Childrens Dulness, and insensible of the Solidity of their Skulls, because they think their Purses can afford it, will needs send them to the Temple of Learning, where, for want of a suitable Genius, they learn little more than how to carry themselves handsomely, and enter a Room genteely, (which might as well be acquir'd at a Dancing-School,) and from whence they return, after Abundance of Trouble and Charge, as great Blockheads as ever, only more proud and self-conceited.

While I was in the midst of these unpleasant Reflections, _Clericus_ (who with a Book in his Hand was walking under the Trees) accidentally awak'd me; to him I related my Dream with all its Particulars, and he, without much Study, presently interpreted it, assuring me, _That it was a lively Representation of HARVARD COLLEGE, Etcetera._

_I remain, Sir,
Your Humble Servant,_
SILENCE DOGOOD.

DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. V

(From Monday May 21. to Monday May 28. 1722.)

_Mulier Muliere magis congruet._--TER.

_To the Author of the_ New-England Courant.

SIR,

I shall here present your Readers with a Letter from one, who informs me that I have begun at the wrong End of my Business, and that I ought to begin at Home, and censure the Vices and Follies of my own Sex, before I venture to meddle with your's: Nevertheless, I am resolved to dedicate this Speculation to the Fair Tribe, and endeavour to show, that Mr. _Ephraim_ charges Women with being particularly guilty of Pride, Idleness, &c. wrongfully, inasmuch as the Men have not only as great a Share in those Vices as the Women, but are likewise in a great Measure the Cause of that which the Women are guilty of. I think it will be best to produce my Antagonist, before I encounter him.

_To Mrs._ DOGOOD.

_Madam_,

My Design in troubling you with this Letter is, to desire you
would begin with your own Sex first: Let the first Volley of
your Resentments be directed against _Female_ Vice; let
Female Idleness, Ignorance and Folly, (which are Vices more
peculiar to your Sex than to our's,) be the Subject of your
Satyrs, but more especially Female Pride, which I think is
intollerable. Here is a large Field that wants Cultivation,
and which I believe you are able (if willing) to improve with
Advantage; and when you have once reformed the Women, you
will find it a much easier Task to reform the Men, because
Women are the prime Causes of a great many Male Enormities.
This is all at present from

_Your Friendly Wellwisher,_
Ephraim Censorious.

After Thanks to my Correspondent for his Kindness in cutting out Work for me, I must assure him, that I find it a very difficult Matter to reprove Women separate from the Men; for what Vice is there in which the Men have not as great a Share as the Women? and in some have they not a far greater, as in Drunkenness, Swearing, &c.? And if they have, then it follows, that when a Vice is to be reproved, Men, who are most culpable, deserve the most Reprehension, and certainly therefore, ought to have it. But we will wave this point at present, and proceed to a particular Consideration of what my Correspondent calls _Female Vice_.

As for Idleness, if I should _Quære_, Where are the greatest Number of its Votaries to be found, with us or the Men? it might I believe be easily and truly answer'd, _With the latter_. For, notwithstanding the Men are commonly complaining how hard they are forc'd to labour, only to maintain their Wives in Pomp and Idleness, yet if you go among the Women, you will learn, that _they have always more Work upon their Hands than they are able to do_, and that _a Woman's Work is never done_, &c. But however, Suppose we should grant for once, that we are generally more idle than the Men, (without making any Allowance for the _Weakness of the Sex_,) I desire to know whose Fault it is? Are not the Men to blame for their Folly in maintaining us in Idleness? Who is there that can be handsomely supported in Affluence, Ease and Pleasure by another, that will chuse rather to earn his Bread by the Sweat of his own Brows? And if a Man will be so fond and so foolish, as to labour hard himself for a Livelihood, and suffer his Wife in the mean Time to sit in Ease and Idleness, let him not blame her if she does so, for it is in a great Measure his own Fault.

And now for the Ignorance and Folly which he reproaches us with, let us see (if we are Fools and Ignoramus's) whose is the Fault, the Men's or our's. An ingenious Writer, having this Subject in Hand, has the following Words, wherein he lays the Fault wholly on the Men, for not allowing Women the Advantages of Education.

"I have (says he) often thought of it as one of the most
barbarous Customs in the World, considering us as a civiliz'd
and Christian Country, that we deny the Advantages of
Learning to Women. We reproach the Sex every Day with Folly
and Impertinence, while I am confident, had they the
Advantages of Education equal to us, they would be guilty of
less than our selves. One would wonder indeed how it should
happen that Women are conversible at all, since they are only
beholding to natural Parts for all their Knowledge. Their
Youth is spent to teach them to stitch and sow, or make
Baubles. They are taught to read indeed, and perhaps to write
their Names, or so; and that is the Heigth of a Womans
Education. And I would but ask any who slight the Sex for
their Understanding, What is a Man (a Gentleman, I mean) good
for that is taught no more? If Knowledge and Understanding
had been useless Additions to the Sex, God Almighty would
never have given them Capacities, for he made nothing
Needless. What has the Woman done to forfeit the Priviledge
of being taught? Does she plague us with her Pride and
Impertinence? Why did we not let her learn, that she might
have had more Wit? Shall we upraid Women with Folly, when
'tis only the Error of this inhumane Custom that hindred them
being made wiser."

So much for Female Ignorance and Folly; and now let us a little consider the Pride which my Correspondent thinks is _intolerable_. By this Expression of his, one would think he is some dejected Swain, tyranniz'd over by some cruel haughty Nymph, who (perhaps he thinks) has no more Reason to be proud than himself. _Alas-a-day!_ What shall we say in this Case! Why truly, if Women are proud, it is certainly owing to the Men still; for if they will be such _Simpletons_ as to humble themselves at their Feet, and fill their credulous Ears with extravagant Praises of their Wit, Beauty, and other Accomplishments (perhaps where there are none too,) and when Women are by this Means perswaded that they are Something more than humane, what Wonder is it, if they carry themselves haughtily, and live extravagantly. Notwithstanding, I believe there are more Instances of extravagant Pride to be found among Men than among Women, and this Fault is certainly more hainous in the former than in the latter.

Upon the whole, I conclude, that it will be impossible to lash any Vice, of which the Men, are not equally guilty with the Women, and consequently deserve an equal (if not a greater), Share in the Censure. However, I exhort both to amend, where both are culpable, otherwise they may expect to be severely handled by

Sir,
_Your Humble Servant,_
SILENCE DOGOOD.

N. B. _Mrs._ Dogood _has lately left her Seat in the Country, and come to Boston, where she intends to tarry for the Summer Season, in order to compleat her Observations of the present reigning Vices of the Town._

DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. VII

(From Monday June 18. to Monday June 25. 1722.)

_Give me the Muse, whose generous Force,
Impatient of the Reins,
Pursues an unattempted Course,
Breaks all the Criticks Iron Chains._
WATTS.

_To the Author of the_ New-England Courant.

SIR,

It has been the Complaint of many Ingenious Foreigners, who have travell'd amongst us, _That good Poetry is not to be expected in_ New-England. I am apt to Fancy, the Reason is, not because our Countrymen are altogether void of a Poetical Genius, nor yet because we have not those Advantages of Education which other Countries have, but purely because we do not afford that Praise and Encouragement which is merited, when any thing extraordinary of this Kind is produc'd among us: Upon which Consideration I have determined, when I meet with a Good Piece of _New-England_ Poetry, to give it a suitable Encomium, and thereby endeavour to discover to the World some of its Beautys, in order to encourage the Author to go on, and bless the World with more, and more Excellent Productions.

There has lately appear'd among us a most Excellent Piece of Poetry, entituled, _An Elegy upon the much Lamented Death of Mrs._ Mehitebell Kitel, _Wife of Mr._ John Kitel _of_ Salem, _Etc._ It may justly be said in its Praise, without Flattery to the Author, that it is the most _Extraordinary_ Piece that was ever wrote in _New-England_. The Language is so soft and Easy, the Expression so moving and pathetick, but above all, the Verse and Numbers so Charming and Natural, that it is almost beyond Comparison.

The Muse _disdains[F]
Those Links and Chains,
Measures and Rules of Vulgar Strains,
And o'er the Laws of Harmony a Sovereign Queen she reigns._

[F] Watts. [_Franklin's note._]

I find no English Author, Ancient or Modern, whose Elegies may be compar'd with this, in respect to the Elegance of Stile, or Smoothness of Rhime; and for the affecting Part, I will leave your Readers to judge, if ever they read any Lines, that would sooner make them _draw their Breath_ and Sigh, if not shed Tears, than these following.

_Come let us mourn, for we have lost a
Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister,
Who has lately taken Flight, and
greatly we have mist her._

In another place,

Some little Time _before she yielded up her Breath,
She said, I ne'er shall hear one Sermon more on Earth.
She kist her Husband_ some little Time _before she expir'd,
Then lean'd her Head the Pillow on, just out of Breath and tir'd._

But the Threefold Appellation in the first Line

--_a Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister_,

must not pass unobserved. That Line in the celebrated _Watts_,

GUNSTON, _the Just, the Generous, and the Young,_

is nothing Comparable to it. The latter only mentions three Qualifications of _one_ Person who was deceased, which therefore could raise Grief and Compassion but for _One_. Whereas the former, (_our most excellent Poet_) gives his Reader a Sort of an Idea of the Death of _Three Persons_, viz.

--_a Wife, a Daughter, and a Sister,_

which is _Three Times_ as great a Loss as the Death of _One_, and consequently must raise _Three Times_ as much Grief and Compassion in the Reader.

I should be very much straitened for Room, if I should attempt to discover even half the Excellencies of this Elegy which are obvious to me. Yet I cannot omit one Observation, which is, that the Author has (to his Honour) invented a new Species of Poetry, which wants a Name, and was never before known. His muse scorns to be confin'd to the old Measures and Limits, or to observe the dull Rules of Criticks;

_Nor_ Rapin _gives her Rules to fly, nor_ Purcell _Notes to Sing._
WATTS.

Now 'tis Pity that such an Excellent Piece should not be dignify'd with a particular Name; and seeing it cannot justly be called, either _Epic_, _Sapphic_, _Lyric_, or _Pindaric_, nor any other Name yet invented, I presume it may, (in Honour and Remembrance of the Dead) be called the KITELIC. Thus much in the Praise of _Kitelic Poetry_.

It is certain, that those Elegies which are of our own Growth, (and our Soil seldom produces any other sort of Poetry) are by far the greatest part, wretchedly Dull and Ridiculous. Now since it is imagin'd by many, that our Poets are honest, well-meaning Fellows, who do their best, and that if they had but some Instructions how to govern Fancy with Judgment, they would make indifferent good Elegies; I shall here subjoin a Receipt for that purpose, which was left me as a Legacy, (among other valuable Rarities) by my Reverend Husband. It is as follows,

A RECEIPT _to make_ a New-England Funeral ELEGY.

For the Title of your Elegy. _Of these you may have enough
ready made to your Hands, but if you should chuse to make it
your self, you must be sure not to omit the words_ Ætatis
Suæ, _which will Beautify it exceedingly._

For the Subject of your Elegy. _Take one of your Neighbours
who has lately departed this Life; it is no great matter at
what Age the Party dy'd, but it will be best if he went away
suddenly, being_ Kill'd, Drown'd, _or_ Frose to Death.

_Having chose the Person, take all his Virtues, Excellencies,
&c. and if he have not enough, you may borrow some to make up
a sufficient Quantity: To these add his last Words, dying
Expressions, &c. if they are to be had; mix all these
together, and be sure you strain them well. Then season all
with a Handful or two of Melancholly Expressions, such as_,
Dreadful, Deadly, cruel cold Death, unhappy Fate, weeping
Eyes, &c. _Have mixed all these Ingredients well, put them
into the empty Scull of some_ young Harvard; (_but in Case
you have ne'er a One at Hand, you may use your own_,) _there
let them Ferment for the Space of a Fortnight, and by that
Time they will be incorporated into a Body, which take out,
and having prepared a sufficient Quantity of double Rhimes,
such as_ Power, Flower; Quiver, Shiver; Grieve us, Leave us;
tell you, excel you; Expeditions, Physicians; Fatigue him,
Intrigue him; &c. _you must spread all upon Paper, and if you
can procure a Scrap of Latin to put at the End, it will
garnish it mightily, then having affixed your Name at the
Bottom, with a_ Moestus Composuit, _you will have an
Excellent Elegy._

N. B. _This Receipt will serve when a Female is the Subject
of your Elegy, provided you borrow a greater Quantity of
Virtues, Excellencies, &c._

SIR,
_Your Servant,_
SILENCE DOGOOD.

_P.S._ I shall make no other Answer to _Hypercarpus's_ Criticism on my last Letter than this, _Mater me genuit, peperit mox filia matrem_.

DOGOOD PAPERS, NO. XII

(From Monday September 3. to Monday September 10. 1722.)

_Quod est in corde sobrii, est in ore ebrii._

_To the Author of the_ New-England Courant.

SIR,

It is no unprofitable tho' unpleasant Pursuit, diligently to inspect and consider the Manners & Conversation of Men, who, insensible of the greatest Enjoyments of humane Life, abandon themselves to Vice from a false Notion of _Pleasure_ and _good Fellowship_. A true and natural Representation of any Enormity, is often the best Argument against it and Means of removing it, when the most severe Reprehensions alone, are found ineffectual.

I would in this Letter improve the little Observation I have made on the Vice of _Drunkeness_, the better to reclaim the _good Fellows_ who usually pay the Devotions of the Evening to _Bacchus_.

I doubt not but _moderate Drinking_ has been improv'd for the Diffusion of Knowledge among the ingenious Part of Mankind, who want the Talent of a ready Utterance, in order to discover the Conceptions of their Minds in an entertaining and intelligible Manner. 'Tis true, drinking does not _improve_ our Faculties, but it enables us to use them; and therefore I conclude, that much Study and Experience, and a little Liquor, are of absolute Necessity for some Tempers, in order to make them accomplish'd Orators. _Dic. Ponder_ discovers an excellent Judgment when he is inspir'd with a Glass or two of _Claret_, but he passes for a Fool among those of small Observation, who never saw him the better for Drink. And here it will not be improper to observe, That the moderate Use of Liquor, and a well plac'd and well regulated Anger, often produce this same Effect; and some who cannot ordinarily talk but in broken Sentences and false Grammar, do in the Heat of Passion express themselves with as much Eloquence as Warmth. Hence it is that my own Sex are generally the most eloquent, because the most passionate. "It has been said in the Praise of some Men," (says an ingenious Author,) "that they could talk whole Hours together upon any thing; but it must be owned to the Honour of the other Sex, that there are many among them who can talk whole Hours together upon Nothing. I have known a Woman branch out into a long extempore Dissertation on the Edging of a Petticoat, and chide her Servant for breaking a China Cup, in all the Figures of Rhetorick."

But after all it must be consider'd, that no Pleasure can give Satisfaction or prove advantageous to a _reasonable Mind_, which is not attended with the _Restraints of Reason_. Enjoyment is not to be found by Excess in any sensual Gratification; but on the contrary, the immoderate Cravings of the Voluptuary, are always succeeded with Loathing and a palled Apetite. What Pleasure can the Drunkard have in the Reflection, that, while in his Cups, he retain'd only the Shape of a Man, and acted the Part of a Beast; or that from reasonable Discourse a few Minutes before, he descended to Impertinence and Nonsense?

I cannot pretend to account for the different Effects of Liquor on Persons of different Dispositions, who are guilty of Excess in the Use of it. 'Tis strange to see Men of a regular Conversation become rakish and profane when intoxicated with Drink, and yet more surprizing to observe, that some who appear to be the most profligate Wretches when sober, become mighty religious in their Cups, and will then, and at no other Time address their Maker, but when they are destitute of Reason, and actually affronting him. Some shrink in the Wetting, and others swell to such an unusual Bulk in their Imaginations, that they can in an Instant understand all Arts and Sciences, by the liberal Education of a little vivyfying _Punch_, or a sufficient Quantity of other exhilerating Liquor.

And as the Effects of Liquor are various, so are the Characters given to its Devourers. It argues some Shame in the Drunkards themselves, in that they have invented numberless Words and Phrases to cover their Folly, whose proper Significations are harmless, or have no Signification at all. They are seldom known to be _drunk_, tho they are very often _boozey_, _cogey_, _tipsey_, _fox'd_, _merry_, _mellow_, _fuddl'd_, _groatable_, _Confoundedly cut_, _See two Moons_, are _Among the Philistines_, _In a very good Humour_, _See the Sun_, or, _The Sun has shone upon them_; they _Clip the King's English_, are _Almost froze_, _Feavourish_, _In their Altitudes_, _Pretty well enter'd_, &c.[18] In short, every Day produces some new Word or Phrase which might be added to the Vocabulary of the _Tiplers_: But I have chose to mention these few, because if at any Time a Man of Sobriety and Temperance happens to _cut himself confoundedly_, or is _almoss froze_, or _feavourish_, or accidentally _sees the Sun_, &c. he may escape the Imputation of being _drunk_, when his Misfortune comes to be related.

_I am_ SIR,
_Your Humble Servant,_
SILENCE DOGOOD.

EDITORIAL PREFACE TO THE NEW ENGLAND COURANT

(_From Monday, February 4, to Monday, February 11, 1723_)

The late Publisher of this Paper,[19] finding so many Inconveniences would arise by his carrying the Manuscripts and publick News to be supervis'd by the Secretary, as to render his carrying it on unprofitable, has intirely dropt the Undertaking. The present Publisher having receiv'd the following Piece, desires the Readers to accept of it as a Preface to what they may hereafter meet with in this Paper.

Non ego mordaci distrinxi Carmine quenquam
Nulla vonenato Litera onista Joco est.

Long has the Press groaned in bringing forth an hateful, but numerous Brood of Party Pamphlets, malicious Scribbles, and Billinsgate Ribaldry. The Rancour and bitterness it has unhappily infused into Men's minds, and to what a Degree it has sowred and leaven'd the Tempers of Persons formerly esteemed some of the most sweet and affable, is too well known here, to need any further Proof or Representation of the Matter.

No generous and impartial Person then can blame the present Undertaking, which is designed purely for the Diversion and Merriment of the Reader. Pieces of Pleasancy and Mirth have a secret Charm in them to allay the Heats and Tumours of our Spirits, and to make a Man forget his restless Resentments. They have a strange Power to tune the harsh Disorders of the Soul, and reduce us to a serene and placid State of Mind.

The main Design of this Weekly Paper will be to entertain the Town with the most comical and diverting Incidents of Humane Life, which in so large a Place as _Boston_ will not fail of a universal Exemplification: Nor shall we be wanting to fill up these Papers with a grateful Interspersion of more serious Morals which may be drawn from the most ludicrous and odd Parts of Life.

As for the Author, that is the next Question. But tho' we profess ourselves ready to oblige the ingenious and courteous Reader with most Sorts of Intelligence, yet here we beg a Reserve. Nor will it be of any Manner of Advantage either to them or to the Writers, that their names should be published; and therefore in this Matter we desire the Favour of you to suffer us to hold our Tongues: Which tho' at this Time of Day it may sound like a very uncommon Request, yet it proceeds from the very Hearts of your Humble Servants.

By this Time the Reader perceives that more than one are engaged in the present Undertaking. Yet is there one Person, an Inhabitant of this Town of _Boston_, whom we honour as a Doctor in the Chair, or a perpetual Dictator.

The Society had design'd to present the Publick with his Effigies, but that the Limner, to whom he was presented for a Draught of his Countenance, descryed (and this he is ready to offer upon Oath) Nineteen Features in his Face, more than ever he beheld in any Humane Visage before; which so raised the Price of his Picture, that our Master himself forbid the Extravagance of coming up to it. And then besides, the Limner objected a Schism in his face, which splits it from his Forehead in a strait Line down to his chin, in such sort, that Mr. Painter protests it is a double Face, and he'll have _Four Pounds_ for the Pourtraiture. However, tho' this double Face has spoilt us of a pretty Picture, yet we all rejoiced to see old _Janus_ in our Company.

There is no Man in _Boston_ better qualified than old _Janus_ for a _Couranteer_, or if you please, an _Observator_, being a Man of such remarkable _Opticks_, as to look two ways at once.

As for his Morals, he is a chearly Christian, as the Country Phrase expresses it. A Man of good Temper, courteous Deportment, sound Judgment; a mortal Hater of Nonsense, Foppery, Formality, and endless Ceremony.

As for his club, they aim at no greater Happiness or Honour, than the Publick be made to know, that it is the utmost of their Ambition to attend upon and do all imaginable good Offices to good old _Janus_ the Couranteer, who is and always will be the Readers humble Servant.

P.S. Gentle Readers, we design never to let a Paper pass without a Latin Motto if we can possibly pick one up, which carries a Charm in it to the Vulgar, and the learned admire the pleasure of Construing. We should have obliged the World with a Greek scrap or two, but the Printer has no Types, and therefore we intreat the candid Reader not to impute the defect to our Ignorance, for our Doctor can say all the _Greek_ Letters by heart.

A DISSERTATION ON LIBERTY AND NECESSITY, PLEASURE AND PAIN

To Mr. J. R.

[London, 1725]

SIR,

I have here, according to your Request, given you my _present_ Thoughts of the _general State of Things_ in the Universe. Such as they are, you have them, and are welcome to 'em; and if they yield you any Pleasure or Satisfaction, I shall think my Trouble sufficiently compensated. I know my Scheme will be liable to many Objections from a less discerning Reader than your self; but it is not design'd for those who can't understand it. I need not give you any Caution to distinguish the hypothetical Parts of the Argument from the conclusive: You will easily perceive what I design for Demonstration, and what for Probability only. The whole I leave entirely to you, and shall value my self more or less on this account, in proportion to your Esteem and Approbation.

* * * * *

Sect. I. _Of_ Liberty _and_ Necessity

I. _There is said to be a_ First Mover, _who is called_ GOD, _Maker of the Universe._

II. _He is said to be all-wise, all-good, all powerful._

These two Propositions being allow'd and asserted by People of almost every Sect and Opinion; I have here suppos'd them granted, and laid them down as the Foundation of my Argument; What follows then, being a Chain of Consequences truly drawn from them, will stand or fall as they are true or false.

III. _If He is all-good, whatsoever He doth must be good._

IV. _If He is all-wise, whatsoever He doth must be wise._

The Truth of these Propositions, with relation to the two first, I think may be justly call'd evident; since, either that infinite Goodness will act what is ill, or infinite Wisdom what is, not wise, is too glaring a Contradiction not to be perceiv'd by any Man of common Sense, and deny'd as soon as understood.

V. _If He is all-powerful, there can be nothing either existing or acting in the Universe_ against _or_ without _his Consent, and what He consents to must be good, because He is good, therefore_ Evil _doth not exist._

_Unde Malum?_ has been long a Question, and many of the Learned have perplex'd themselves and Readers to little Purpose in Answer to it. That there are both Things and Actions to which we give the Name of _Evil_, is not here deny'd, as _Pain_, _Sickness_, _Want_, _Theft_, _Murder_, &c. but that these and the like are not in reality _Evils_, _Ills_, or _Defects_ in the Order of the Universe, is demonstrated in the next Section, as well as by this and the following Proposition. Indeed, to suppose any Thing to exist or be done, _contrary_ to the Will of the Almighty, is to suppose him not almighty; or that Something (the Cause of _Evil_) is more mighty than the Almighty; an Inconsistence that I think no One will defend: And to deny any Thing or Action, which he consents to the existence of, to be good, is entirely to destroy his two Attributes of _Wisdom_ and _Goodness_.

_There is nothing done in the Universe_, say the Philosophers, _but what God either does, or_ permits _to be done_. This, as He is Almighty, is certainly true: But what need of this Distinction between _doing_ and _permitting_? Why, first they take it for granted that many Things in the Universe exist in such a Manner as is not for the best, and that many Actions are done which ought not to be done, or would be better undone; these Things or Actions they cannot ascribe to God as His, because they have already attributed to Him infinite Wisdom and Goodness; Here then is the Use of the Word _Permit_; He _permits_ them to be done, _say they_. But we will reason thus: If God permits an Action to be done, it is because he wants either _Power_ or _Inclination_ to hinder it; in saying he wants _Power_, we deny Him to be _almighty_; and if we say He wants _Inclination_ or _Will_, it must be, either because He is not Good, or the Action is not _evil_, (for all Evil is contrary to the Essence of _Infinite Goodness_.) The former is inconsistent with his before-given Attribute of Goodness, therefore the latter must be true.

It will be said, perhaps, that _God permits evil Actions to be done, for_ wise _Ends and Purposes_. But this Objection destroys itself; for whatever an infinitely good God hath wise Ends in suffering to _be_, must be good, is thereby made good, and cannot be otherwise.

VI. _If a Creature is made by God, it must depend upon God, and receive all its Power from Him, with which Power the Creature can do nothing contrary to the Will of God, because God is Almighty; what is not contrary to His Will, must be agreeable to it; what is agreeable to it, must be good, because He is Good; therefore a Creature can do nothing but what is good._

This Proposition is much to the same Purpose with the former, but more particular; and its Conclusion is as just and evident. Tho' a Creature may do many Actions which by his Fellow Creatures will be nam'd _Evil_, and which will naturally and necessarily cause or bring upon the Doer, certain _Pains_ (which will likewise be call'd _Punishments_;) yet this Proposition proves, that he cannot act what will be in itself really Ill, or displeasing to God. And that the painful Consequences of his evil Actions (_so call'd_) are not, as indeed they ought not to be, _Punishments_ or Unhappinesses, will be shewn hereafter.

Nevertheless, the late learned Author of _The Religion of Nature_, (which I send you herewith) has given us a Rule or Scheme, whereby to discover which of our Actions ought to be esteem'd and denominated _good_, and which _evil_; It is in short this, "Every Action which is done according to _Truth_, is good; and every Action contrary to Truth, is evil: To act according to Truth is to use and esteem every Thing as what it is, &c. Thus if _A_ steals a Horse from _B_, and rides away upon him, he uses him not as what he is in Truth, _viz._ the Property of another, but as his own, which is contrary to Truth, and therefore _evil_." But, as this Gentleman himself says, (Sect. I. Prop. VI.) "In order to judge rightly what any Thing is, it must be consider'd, not only what it is in one Respect, but also what it may be in any other Respect; and the whole Description of the Thing ought to be taken in: So in this Case it ought to be consider'd, that _A_ is naturally a _covetous_ Being, feeling an Uneasiness in the want of _B's_ Horse, which produces an Inclination for stealing him, stronger than his Fear of Punishment for so doing. This is _Truth_ likewise, and _A_ acts according to it when he steals the Horse. Besides, if it is prov'd to be a _Truth_, that _A_ has not Power over his own Actions, it will be indisputable that he acts according to Truth, and impossible he should do otherwise.

I would not be understood by this to encourage or defend Theft; 'tis only for the sake of the Argument, and will certainly have no _ill Effect_. The Order and Course of Things will not be affected by Reasoning of this Kind; and 'tis as just and necessary, and as much according to Truth, for _B_ to dislike and punish the Theft of his Horse, as it is for _A_ to steal him.

VII. _If the Creature is thus limited in his Actions, being able to do only such Things as God would have him to do, and not being able to refuse doing what God would have done; then he can have no such Thing as Liberty, Free-will or Power to do or refrain an Action._

By _Liberty_ is sometimes understood the Absence of Opposition; and in this Sense, indeed, all our Actions may be said to be the Effects of our Liberty: But it is a Liberty of the same Nature with the Fall of a heavy Body to the Ground; it has Liberty to fall, that is, it meets with nothing to hinder its Fall, but at the same Time it is necessitated to fall, and has no Power or Liberty to remain suspended.

But let us take the Argument in another View, and suppose ourselves to be, in the common sense of the Word, _Free Agents_. As Man is a Part of this great Machine, the Universe, his regular Acting is requisite to the regular moving of the whole. Among the many Things which lie before him to be done, he may, as he is at Liberty and his Choice influenc'd by nothing, (for so it must be, or he is not at Liberty) chuse any one, and refuse the rest. Now there is every Moment something _best_ to be done, which is alone then _good_, and with respect to which, every Thing else is at that Time _evil_. In order to know which is best to be done, and which not, it is requisite that we should have at one View all the intricate Consequences of every Action with respect to the general Order and Scheme of the Universe, both present and future; but they are innumerable and incomprehensible by any Thing but Omniscience. As we cannot know these, we have but as one Chance to ten thousand, to hit on the right Action; we should then be perpetually blundering about in the Dark, and putting the Scheme in Disorder; for every wrong Action of a Part, is a Defect or Blemish in the Order of the Whole. Is it not necessary then, that our Actions should be over-rul'd and govern'd by an all-wise Providence?--How exact and regular is every Thing in the _natural_ World! How wisely in every Part contriv'd! We cannot here find the least Defect! Those who have study'd the mere animal and vegetable Creation, demonstrate that nothing can be more harmonious and beautiful! All the heavenly Bodies, the Stars and Planets, are regulated with the utmost Wisdom! And can we suppose less Care to be taken in the Order of the _moral_ than in the _natural_ System? It is as if an ingenious Artificer, having fram'd a curious Machine or Clock, and put its many intricate Wheels and Powers in such a Dependance on one another, that the whole might move in the most exact Order and Regularity, had nevertheless plac'd in it several other Wheels endu'd with an independent _Self-Motion_, but ignorant of the general Interest of the Clock; and these would every now and then be moving wrong, disordering the true Movement, and making continual Work for the Mender: which might better be prevented, by depriving them of that Power of Self-Motion, and placing them in a Dependance on the regular Part of the Clock.

VIII. _If there is no such Thing as Free-Will in Creatures, there can be neither Merit nor Demerit in Creatures._

IX. _And therefore every Creature must be equally esteem'd by the Creator._

These Propositions appear to be the necessary Consequences of the former. And certainly no Reason can be given, why the Creator should prefer in his Esteem one Part of His Works to another, if with equal Wisdom and Goodness he design'd and created them all, since all Ill or Defect, as contrary to his Nature, is excluded by his Power. We will sum up the Argument thus, When the Creator first design'd the Universe, either it was His Will and Intention that all Things should exist and be in the Manner they are at this Time; or it was his Will they should _be_ otherwise, _i.e._ in a different Manner: To say it was His Will Things should be otherwise than they are, is to say Somewhat hath contradicted His Will, and broken His Measures, which is impossible because inconsistent with his Power; therefore we must allow that all Things exist now in a Manner agreeable to His Will, and in consequence of that are all equally Good, and therefore equally esteem'd by Him.

I proceed now to shew, that as all the Works of the Creator are equally esteem'd by Him, so they are, as in Justice they ought to be, equally us'd.

* * * * *

Sect. II. _Of_ Pleasure _and_ Pain.

I. _When a Creature is form'd and endu'd with Life, 'tis suppos'd to receive a Capacity of the Sensation of_ Uneasiness _or_ Pain.

It is this distinguishes Life and Consciousness from unactive unconscious Matter. To know or be sensible of Suffering or being acted upon is _to live_; and whatsoever is not so, among created Things, is properly and truly _dead_.

All _Pain_ and _Uneasiness_ proceeds at first from and is caus'd by Somewhat without and distinct from the Mind itself. The Soul must first be acted upon before it can re-act. In the Beginning of Infancy it is as if it were not; it is not conscious of its own Existence, till it has receiv'd the first Sensation of _Pain_; then, and not before, it begins to feel itself, is rous'd, and put into Action; then it discovers its Powers and Faculties, and exerts them to expel the Uneasiness. Thus is the Machine set on work; this is Life. We are first mov'd by _Pain_, and the whole succeeding Course of our Lives is but one continu'd Series of Action with a View to be freed from it. As fast as we have excluded one Uneasiness another appears, otherwise the Motion would cease. If a continual Weight is not apply'd, the Clock will stop. And as soon as the Avenues of Uneasiness to the Soul are choak'd up or cut off, we are dead, we think and act no more.

II. _This Uneasiness, whenever felt, produces_ Desire _to be freed from it, great in exact proportion to the Uneasiness._

Thus is _Uneasiness_ the first Spring and Cause of all Action; for till we are uneasy in Rest, we can have no Desire to move, and without Desire of moving there can be no voluntary Motion. The Experience of every Man who has observ'd his own Actions will evince the Truth of this; and I think nothing need be said to prove that the _Desire_ will be equal to the _Uneasiness_, for the very Thing implies as much: It is not _Uneasiness_ unless we desire to be freed from it, nor a great _Uneasiness_ unless the consequent Desire is great.

I might here observe, how necessary a Thing in the Order and Design of the Universe this _Pain_ or _Uneasiness_ is, and how beautiful in its Place! Let us but suppose it just now banish'd the World entirely, and consider the Consequence of it: All the Animal Creation would immediately stand stock still, exactly in the Posture they were in the Moment Uneasiness departed; not a Limb, not a Finger would henceforth move; we should all be reduc'd to the Condition of Statues, dull and unactive: Here I should continue to sit motionless with the Pen in my Hand thus------and neither leave my Seat nor write one Letter more. This may appear odd at first View, but a little Consideration will make it evident; for 'tis impossible to assign any other Cause for the voluntary Motion of an Animal than its _uneasiness_ in Rest. What a different Appearance then would the Face of Nature make, without it! How necessary is it! And how unlikely that the Inhabitants of the World ever were, or that the Creator ever design'd they should be, exempt from it!

I would likewise observe here, that the VIIIth Proposition in the preceding Section, viz. _That there is neither Merit nor Demerit_, &c. is here again demonstrated, as infallibly, tho' in another manner: For since _Freedom from Uneasiness_ is the End of all our Actions, how is it possible for us to do any Thing disinterested?--How can any Action be meritorious of Praise or Dispraise, Reward or Punishment, when the natural Principle of _Self-Love_ is the only and the irresistible Motive to it?

III. _This_ Desire _is always fulfill'd or satisfy'd_,

In the _Design_ or _End_ of it, tho' not in the _Manner_: The first is requisite, the latter not. To exemplify this, let us make a Supposition; A Person is confin'd in a House which appears to be in imminent Danger of Falling, this, as soon as perceiv'd, creates a violent _Uneasiness_, and that instantly produces an equal strong _Desire_, the _End_ of which is _freedom from the Uneasiness_, and the _Manner_ or Way propos'd to gain this _End_, is _to get out of the House_. Now if he is convinc'd by any Means, that he is mistaken, and the House is not likely to fall, he is immediately freed from his _Uneasiness_, and the _End_ of his Desire is attain'd as well as if it had been in the _Manner_ desir'd, viz. _leaving the House_.

All our different Desires and Passions proceed from and are reducible to this one Point, _Uneasiness_, tho' the Means we propose to ourselves for expelling of it are infinite. One proposes _Fame_, another _Wealth_, a third _Power_, &c. as the Means to gain this _End_; but tho' these are never attain'd, if the Uneasiness be remov'd by some other Means, the _Desire_ is satisfy'd. Now during the Course of Life we are ourselves continually removing successive Uneasinesses as they arise, and the _last_ we suffer is remov'd by the _sweet Sleep_ of Death.

IV. _The fulfilling or Satisfaction of this_ Desire, _produces the Sensation of_ Pleasure, _great or small in exact proportion to the_ Desire.

_Pleasure_ is that Satisfaction which arises in the Mind upon, and is caus'd by, the accomplishment of our _Desires_, and by no other Means at all; and those Desires being above shewn to be caus'd by our _Pains_ or _Uneasinesses_, it follows that _Pleasure_ is wholly caus'd by _Pain_, and by no other Thing at all.

V. _Therefore the Sensation of_ Pleasure _is equal, or in exact proportion to the Sensation of_ Pain.

As the _Desire_ of being freed from Uneasiness is equal to the _Uneasiness_, and the _Pleasure_ of satisfying that Desire equal to the _Desire_, the _Pleasure_ thereby produc'd must necessarily be equal to the _Uneasiness_ or _Pain_ which produces it: of three Lines, _A_, _B_, and _C_, if _A_ is equal to _B_, and _B_ to _C_, _C_ must be equal to _A_. And as our _Uneasinesses_ are always remov'd by some Means or other, it follows that _Pleasure_ and _Pain_ are in their Nature inseparable: So many Degrees as one Scale of the Ballance descends, so many exactly the other ascends; and one cannot rise or fall without the Fall or Rise of the other: 'Tis impossible to taste of _Pleasure_, without feeling its preceding proportionate _Pain_; or to be sensible of _Pain_, without having its necessary Consequent _Pleasure_: The _highest Pleasure_ is only Consciousness of Freedom from the _deepest Pain_, and Pain is not Pain to us unless we ourselves are sensible of it. They go Hand in Hand; they cannot be divided.

You have a View of the whole Argument in a few familiar Examples: The _Pain_ of Abstinence from Food, as it is greater or less, produces a greater or less _Desire_ of Eating, the Accomplishment of this _Desire_ produces a greater or less _Pleasure_ proportionate to it. The _Pain_ of Confinement causes the _Desire_ of Liberty, which accomplish'd, yields a _Pleasure_ equal to that _Pain_ of Confinement. The _Pain_ of Labour and Fatigue causes the _Pleasure_ of Rest, equal to that _Pain_. The _Pain_ of Absence from Friends, produces the _Pleasure_ of Meeting in exact proportion. _&c._

This is the _fixt Nature_ of Pleasure and Pain, and will always be found to be so by those who examine it.

One of the most common Arguments for the future Existence of the Soul, is taken from the generally suppos'd Inequality of Pain and Pleasure in the present; and this, notwithstanding the Difficulty by outward Appearances to make a Judgment of another's Happiness, has been look'd upon as almost unanswerable: but since _Pain_ naturally and infallibly produces a _Pleasure_ in proportion to it, every individual Creature must, in any State of _Life_, have an equal Quantity of each, so that there is not, on that Account, any Occasion for a future Adjustment.

Thus are all the Works of the Creator _equally_ us'd by him; And no Condition of Life or Being is in itself better or preferable to another: The Monarch is not more happy than the Slave, nor the Beggar more miserable than _Croesus_. Suppose _A_, _B_, and _C_, three distinct Beings; _A_ and _B_, animate, capable of _Pleasure_ and _Pain_, _C_ an inanimate Piece of Matter, insensible of either. _A_ receives ten Degrees of _Pain_, which are necessarily succeeded by ten Degrees of _Pleasure_: _B_ receives fifteen of _Pain_, and the consequent equal Number of _Pleasure_: _C_ all the while lies unconcern'd, and as he has not suffer'd the former, has no right to the latter. What can be more equal and just than this? When the Accounts come to be adjusted, _A_ has no Reason to complain that his Portion of _Pleasure_ was five Degrees less than that of _B_, for his Portion of _Pain_ was five Degrees less likewise: Nor has _B_ any Reason to boast that his _Pleasure_ was five Degrees greater than that of _A_, for his _Pain_ was proportionate: They are then both on the same Foot with _C_, that is, they are neither Gainers nor Losers.