Chapter V: Part II: From Mr. Abel James (received in Paris) (1)

"MY DEAR AND HONOURED 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 busybody 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 enclose, 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 endeavouring to become as good and eminent as the journalist.
Should thine, for instance, when published (and I think they 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."

The foregoing letter, and the minutes accompanying it, being shown to a friend, I received from him the following:

_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 most 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, morever, 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-humoured_.

"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. Your 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 every man'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 their standard, and who try to keep
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 to resemble 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 show 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
figure 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 may 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 show 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 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: show
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 act 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
thought well of by Englishmen, they will go nearer to thinking well
of England. Extend your views even farther; 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 dear
sir, &c., &c.,

"BENJ. VAUGHAN."

* * * * *

CONTINUATION,

_Begun at Passy, near Paris, 1784._

It is some time since I received 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 endeavour to recollect and write what I can: if I live to get home, it may there be corrected and improved.

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 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 established 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 Philadelphia the printers were, indeed, stationers, but they sold only paper, &c., almanacs, ballads, and a few common schoolbooks. Those who loved reading were obliged 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 proposed 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 wished to read at home. This was accordingly done, and for some time contented us: finding the advantage of this little collection, I proposed to render the benefit from the 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 engaged to pay a certain sum down for the first purchase of the 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; with this little fund we began. The books were imported; the library was open one day in the week for lending them to 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 public amusements to divert their attention from study, became better acquainted with books, and in a few years were observed 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 on us, our heirs, &c., for fifty years, Mr. Brockden, the scrivener, said to us: "You are young men, but it is scarce probable that any of you will live to see the expiration of the term fixed 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 supposed to raise one's reputation in the smallest degree above that of one's neighbours, 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 affairs went on more smoothly, and I ever after practised it on such occasions, and from my frequent successes can heartily recommend it. The present little sacrifice of your vanity will afterward 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 I repaired, in some degree, the loss of the learned education my father once intended for me. Reading was the only amusement I allowed myself. I spent no time in taverns, games, or frolics of any kind, and my industry in my business continued 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 two competitors to contend with for business 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 thence considered industry as a means of obtaining wealth and distinction, which encouraged me; though 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 honour 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 disposed 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 paper-makers, &c. We kept no idle servants; our table was plain and simple, our furniture of the cheapest. For instance, my breakfast was, for 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 called 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 deserved a silver spoon and china bowl as well as any of his neighbours. This was the first appearance of plate and china in our house, which afterward, in a course of years, as our wealth increased, augmented gradually to several hundred pounds in value.

I had been religiously educated as a Presbyterian; but though some of the dogmas of that persuasion appeared unintelligible, and I early absented myself from their public assemblies (Sunday being my studying day), I never was without some religious principles: I never doubted, for instance, the existence of a Deity; that he made the world, and governed 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 crimes will be punished, and virtue rewarded, either here or hereafter. These I esteemed the essentials of every religion; and being to be found in all the religions we had in our country, I respected them all, though with different degrees of respect, as I found them more or less mixed with other articles, which, without any tendency to inspire, promote, or confirm morality, served principally to divide us, and make us unfriendly to one another. This respect to all, with an opinion that the worst had some effects, induced me to avoid all discourse that might tend to lessen the good opinion another might have of his own religion; and as our province increased in people, and new places of worship were continually wanted and generally erected by voluntary contribution, my mite for such purpose, whatever might be the sect, was never refused.

Though 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 used to visit me sometimes as a friend, and admonish me to attend his administrations; and I was now and then prevailed 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 enforced. I had some years before composed a little liturgy or form of prayer for my own private use (viz., in 1728), entitled _Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion_. I returned to the use of this, and went no more to the public assemblies. My conduct might be blameable, but I leave it without attempting farther to excuse it; my present purpose being to relate facts, and not to make apologies for them.

It was about this time I conceived the bold and arduous project of arriving at _moral perfection_; I wished to live without committing any fault at any time, and to 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 had imagined: while my attention was taken up, and care employed 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 dependance on a steady, uniform rectitude of conduct. For this purpose I therefore tried 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 of every other pleasure, appetite, inclination, or passion, bodily or mental, even to our avarice and ambition. I proposed to myself, for the sake of clearness, to use rather more names, with fewer ideas annexed to each, than a few names with more ideas; and I included, under thirteen names of virtues, all that at that time occurred to me as necessary or desirable, and annexed to each a short precept, which fully expressed the extent I gave to its meaning.

These names of _virtues_, with their precepts, were,

1. TEMPERANCE.--Eat not to dulness: 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 employed 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 extremes: forbear resenting injuries so much as you think they deserve.

10. CLEANLINESS.--Tolerate no uncleanliness in body, clothes, or habitation.

11. TRANQUILLITY.--Be not disturbed at trifles, nor at accidents common or unavoidable.

12. CHASTITY.

13. HUMILITY.

My intention being to acquire the _habitude_ of all these virtues, I judged 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 through the thirteen: and as the previous acquisition of some might facilitate the acquisition of certain others, I arranged them with that view as they stand above. _Temperance_ first, as it tends to promote that coolness and clearness of head which is so necessary where constant vigilance was to be kept up, and a guard maintained against the unremitting attraction of ancient habits and the force of perpetual temptations. This being acquired and established, _Silence_ would be more easy; and my desire being to gain knowledge at the same time that I improved in virtue; and considering that in conversation it was obtained rather by the use of the ear than of the tongue, and, therefore, wishing to break a habit I was getting into of _prattling_, _punning_, and _jesting_ (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 endeavours to obtain all the subsequent virtues. _Frugality_ and _Industry_, relieving me from my restraining debt, and producing affluence and independence, would make more easy the practice of _Sincerity_ and _Justice_, &c., &c. 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 ruled 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 crossed 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.[10]

_Form of the pages._

TEMPERANCE.
Eat not to dulness: drink not to elevation.

+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| | Sun. | M. | T. | W. | Th. | F. | S. |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Tem. | | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Sil. | * | * | | * | | * | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Ord. | * | * | * | | * | * | * |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Res. | | * | | | | * | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Fru. | * | | | | | * | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Ind. | | | * | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Sinc.| | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Jus. | | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Mod. | | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Clea.| | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Tran.| | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Chas.| | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+
| Hum. | | | | | | | |
+------+------+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+-----+

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 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 supposed the habit of that virtue so much strengthened, and its opposite weakened, 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 get through a course complete 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 accomplished the first, proceeds to a second, so I should have (I hoped) the encouraging pleasure of seeing on my pages the progress made in virtue, by clearing successively my lines of their spots, till, in the end, by a number of courses, I should be happy in viewing a clean book, after a thirteen week's daily examination.

This my little book had for its motto these lines from Addison's Cato:

"Here will I hold; if there's a power above us
(And that there is, all nature cries aloud
Through all her works), he must delight in virtue;
And that which he delights in must be happy."

Another from Cicero:

O vitae philosophia dux! O virtutum indagatrix et expultrixque vitiorum! Unus dies bene, et ex praeceptis tuis actus, peccanti immortalitati est anteponendus."

"Oh Philosophy, guide of life! Diligent inquirer after virtue, and banisher of vice! A single day well spent, and as thy precepts direct, is to be preferred to an eternity of sin."

Another from the Proverbs of Solomon, speaking of wisdom or virtue:

"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."

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 prefixed to my tables of examination, for daily use.

"O powerful Goodness! bountiful Father! merciful Guide! Increase me in that wisdom which discovers my truest interest: Strengthen my resolution to perform what that wisdom dictates! Accept my kind offices to thy other children as the only return in my power for thy continual favours to me."

I used also, sometimes, a little prayer which I took from Thomson's Poems, viz.,

"Father of light and life, thou God supreme!
Oh 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 precept of _Order_, requiring that _every part of my business should have its allotted time_, one page in my little book contained the following scheme of employment for the twenty-four hours of a natural day.

SCHEME.

Hours.
_Morning._ { } Rise, wash, and address _Powerful
The Question { 5} Goodness_! Contrive day's business, and
What good shall { 6} take the resolution of the day; prosecute
I do this day? { 7} the present study, and breakfast.

8}
9} Work.
10}
11}

_Noon._ {12} Read, or look over my accounts, and
{ 1} dine.

{ 2}
_Afternoon._ { 3} Work.
{ 4}
{ 5}

_Evening._ { 6}
The Question, { 7} Put things in their places. Supper,
What good have { 8} music, or diversion, or conversation.
I done to-day? { 9} Examination of the day.

{10}
{11}
{12}
_Night._ { 1} Sleep.
{ 2}
{ 3}
{ 4}

I entered upon the execution of this plan for self-examination, and continued it, with occasional intermissions, for some time. I was surprised 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 transferred 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 marked my faults with a black lead pencil; which marks I could easily wipe out with a wet sponge. After a while I went through one course only in a year; and afterward only one in several years; till at length I omitted them entirely, being employed 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 though 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, &c., I found it extremely difficult to acquire. I had not been early accustomed to _method_, and having an exceeding good memory, I was not so sensible of the inconvenience attending want of method. This article, therefore, cost me 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 axe 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 turned while the smith pressed the broad face of the axe 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 axe as it was, without farther grinding. "No," said the smith, "turn on, we shall have it bright by-and-by; as yet 'tis only speckled." "Yes," said the man, "but _I think I like a speckled axe best_." And I believe this may have been the case with many, who having, for the want of some such means as I employed, 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 axe was best_." For something that pretended to be reason was every now and then suggesting to me, that such extreme 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, though 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, though they may never reach the wished-for excellence of those copies, their hand is mended by the endeavour, 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 owed the constant felicity of his life down to the 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 enjoyed 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 honourable 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 young acquaintance: I hope, therefore, that some of my descendants may follow the example and reap the benefit.

It will be remarked that, though my scheme was not wholly without religion, there was in it no mark of any of the distinguishing tenets of any particular sect; I had purposely avoided them; for being fully persuaded of the utility and excellence 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 anything in it that would prejudice any one of any sect against it. I proposed 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; I should have called my book _The Art of Virtue_, 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, without showing to the naked and hungry how or where they might get clothes or victuals, only exhorted them to be fed and clothed James ii., 15, 16.

But it so happened that my intention of writing and publishing this comment was never fulfilled. I had, indeed, from time to time, put down short hints of the sentiments, reasonings, &c., 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 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 remained unfinished.

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 wished 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 endeavoured to convince young persons, that no qualities are so likely to make a poor man's fortune as those of _probity_ and _integrity_.

My list of virtues contained at first but twelve: but a Quaker friend having kindly informed me that I was generally thought proud; that my pride showed 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 convinced me by mentioning several instances), I determined to endeavour 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 mine 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 fixed opinion; such as _certainly_, _undoubtedly_, &c., 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 denied 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 _appeared_, or _seemed to me_, some difference, &c. I soon found the advantage of this change in my manners; the conversations I engaged in went on more pleasantly. The modest way in which I proposed my opinions procured them a readier reception and less contradiction; I had less mortification when I was found to be in the wrong, and I more easily prevailed 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 easy, and so habitual to me, that perhaps for the 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 point.

In reality, there is, perhaps, no one of our natural passions so hard to subdue as _pride_; disguise it, struggle with it, stifle it, mortify it as much as you please, 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 completely overcome it, I should probably be _proud_ of my _humility_.

[Here concludes what was written at Passy, near Paris.]

* * * * *

MEMORANDUM.

_I am now about to write at home (Philadelphia), August, 1788, but cannot have the help expected from my papers, many of them being lost in the war. I have, however, found the following_:

Having mentioned a _great and extensive project_ which I had conceived, it seems proper that some account should be here given of that project and its object. Its first rise in my mind appears in the above-mentioned little paper, accidentally preserved, viz.:

OBSERVATIONS on my reading history, in library, May 9, 1731.

"That the great affairs of the world, the wars, revolutions, &c., are carried on and effected by parties.

"That the view of these parties is their present general interest; or what they take to be such.

"That the different views of these different parties occasion all confusion.

"That while a party is carrying on a general design, each man has his particular private interest in view.

"That, as soon as a party has gained its general point, each member becomes intent upon his particular interest, which, thwarting others, breaks that party into divisions and occasions more confusion.

"That few in public affairs act from a mere view of the good of their country, whatever they may pretend; and though their actings bring real good to their country, yet men primarily considered that their own and their country's interest were united, and so did not act from a principle of benevolence.

"That fewer still, in public affairs, act with a view to the good of mankind.

"There seems to me at present to be great occasion for raising a _United Party for Virtue_, by forming the virtuous and good men of all nations into a regular body, to be governed by suitable good and wise rules, which good and wise men may probably be more unanimous in their obedience to than common people are to common laws.

"I at present think, that whoever attempts this aright, and is well qualified, cannot fail of pleasing God and of meeting with success. B. F."

Revolving this project in my mind as to be undertaken hereafter, when my circumstances should afford me the necessary leisure, I put down from time to time, on pieces of paper, such thoughts as occurred to me respecting it. Most of these are lost, but I find one purporting to be the substance of an intended creed, containing, as I thought, the essentials of every known religion, and being free of everything that might shock the professors of any religion. It is expressed in these words: viz.,

"That there is one God, who made all things.

"That he governs the world by his providence.

"That he ought to be worshipped by adoration, prayer, and thanksgiving.

"But that the most acceptable service to God is doing good to man.

"That the soul is immortal.

"And that God will certainly reward virtue and punish vice, either here or hereafter."

My ideas at that time were, that the sect should be begun and spread at first among young and single men only; that each person to be initiated should not only declare his assent to such creed, but should have exercised himself with the thirteen weeks' examination and practice of the virtues, as in the before-mentioned model; that the existence of such a society should be kept a secret till it was become considerable, to prevent solicitations for the admission of improper persons; but that the members should, each of them, search among his acquaintance for ingenious, well-disposed youths, to whom, with prudent caution, the scheme should be gradually communicated. That the members should engage to afford their advice, assistance, and support to each other in promoting one another's interest, business, and advancement in life: that, for distinction, we should be called THE SOCIETY OF THE FREE AND EASY. Free, as being, by the general practice and habits of the virtues, free from the dominion of vice; and particularly by the practice of industry and frugality, free from debt, which exposes a man to constraint, and a species of slavery to his creditors.

This is as much as I can now recollect of the project, except that I communicated it in part to two young men, who adopted it with enthusiasm: but my then narrow circumstances, and the necessity I was under of sticking close to my business, occasioned my postponing the farther prosecution of it at that time, and my multifarious occupations, public and private, induced me to continue postponing, so that it has been omitted, till I have no longer strength or activity left sufficient for such an enterprise. Though I am still of opinion it was a practicable scheme, and might have been very useful, by forming a great number of good citizens: and I was not discouraged by the seeming magnitude of the undertaking, as I have always thought that one man of tolerable abilities may work great changes and accomplish great affairs among mankind, if he first forms a good plan; and, cutting off all amusements or other employments that would divert his attention, makes the connexion of that same plan his sole study and business.

In 1732 I first published my Almanac under the name of _Richard Saunders_; it was continued by me about twenty-five years, and commonly called _Poor Richard's Almanac_. I endeavoured to make it both entertaining and useful, and it accordingly came to be in such demand that I reaped considerable profit from it, vending annually near ten thousand. And observing that it was generally read (scarce any neighbourhood in the province being without it), I considered it as a proper vehicle for conveying instruction among the common people, who bought scarcely any other books. I therefore filled all the little spaces that occurred between the remarkable days in the calendar with proverbial sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality as the means of procuring wealth, and thereby securing virtue; it being more difficult for a man in want to act always honestly, as (to use here one of those proverbs) "_it is hard for an empty sack to stand upright_." These proverbs, which contained the wisdom of many ages and nations, I assembled and formed into a connected discourse, prefixed to the Almanac of 1757 as the harangue of a wise old man to the people attending an auction: the bringing all these scattered counsels thus into a focus, enabled them to make greater impression. The piece, being universally approved, was copied in all the newspapers of the American Continent; reprinted in Britain on a large sheet of paper, to be stuck up in houses; two translations were made of it in French, and great numbers bought by the clergy and gentry to distribute gratis among their poor parishioners and tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discouraged useless expense in foreign superfluities, some thought it had its share of influence in producing that growing plenty of money which was observable for several years after its publication.