i'Vi v,\%,. ,-**.x *lrv- -%r&.\ l->iHSiV *N «*V S$^ •*-''<»' *$^ i' Surgeon General's 0ffic3 ^^^^.M,^^ , I ESSAYS, LITERARY, MORAL ANB PHILOSOPHICAL. BY BENJAMIN RUSH, M. D. AND PROFESSOR OF THE INSTITUTES OF MEDICINE AND CLINICAL PRACTICE IN THE UNIVERSITY OF PENNSYLVANIA. SECOND EDITION, AVJTH ADDITIONS. « . i 'i n 3 . PHILADELPHIA: 1 V PRINTED BY THOMAS AND WILLIAM BRADFORD, NO. 8, SOUTH FRONT STREET. 1806. I AS A RECORD OF FRATERNAL AFFECTION, THE FOLLOWING ESSAYS ARE INSCRIBED TO JACOB RUSH, Judge of the Third District of Pennsylvania, By his Friend And Brother, THE AUTHOR, January 9, 1798. >IOI PREFACE. MOST of the following Essays were published in the Museum, and Columbian Magazine, in this City, soon after the end of the revolutionary war in the United States. A few of them made their first appearance in pamphlets. They are now published in a single volume, at the request of several friends, and with a view of promoting the ends at first contemplated by them. Two of the Essays, viz: that upon the use of To- bacco, and the account of remarkable cir- cumstances in the constitution and life of Ann Woods, are now submitted for the first time to the eye of the public. The author has omitted in this collection two pamphlets which he published in the year 1772, upon PREFACL the slavery of the Negroes, because he con- ceived the object of them had been in part accomplished, and because the Citizens of the United States have since that time been furnished from Great-Britain and other countries, with numerous tracts upon that subject.; more calculated to complete the ef- fect intended by the author, than his early publications. BENJAMIN RUSH. Philadelphia, Jan. % 1798. i TABLE OF CONTENTS. Page A Plan for establishing Public Schools in Pennsylvania, and for conducting education agreeably to a Republi- can form of Government. Addressed to the Legisla- ture and citizens of Pennsylvania, in the year 1786, . 1 Of the mode of Education proper in a Republic, .... v Observations upon the study of the Latin and Greek languages, as a branch of liberal education, with hints of a plan of liberal instruction, without them, accommo- dated to the present state of society, manners and go- vernment in the United States,............ 31 Thoughts upon the amusements and punishments, which are proper for Schools,................. 57 Thoughts upon Female Education, accommodated -to the present state of society, manners and government, in the United States of America, ............. 57 A defence of the Bible as a School Book, .......... 9* An address to the ministers of the Gospel of eveiy deno- mination in the United States upon subjects interesting to morals,.............,....... . „ . 111 An inquiry into the consistency of Oaths with Christi- anity, ■-.".■.'.-■-'... ^ ...............125 An inquiry into the Effects of Public Punishments upon Criminals, and upon Society,.............!36 An enquiry into the consistency of the punishment of Murder by Death, with Reasoa and Revelation, .... 164 TABLE OF CONTENTS. A plan of a Peace Office for the United States,.....I8S Information to Europeans who are disposed to migrate to the United States of America,.............189 An Account of the Progress of Population, Agriculture, Manners, and Government, in Pennsylvania,.....213 An Account of the manners of the German Inhabitants of Pennsylvania,.....................226 Thoughts on Common Sense,..............249 An Account of the Vices peculiar to the Indians of North America,.....................256 Observations upon the influence of the Habitual use of Tobacco upon Health, Morals, and Property, .... 261 An Account of the Sugar Maple Tree of the United States,..........................270 An account of the life and death of Edward Drinker, who died on the 17th. of November, 1782, in the 103rd. year of his age,.....................288 Remarkable circumstances in the constitution and Kfe of Ann Woods, an old woman of 96 years of age, ... 293 Biographical Anecdotes of Benjamin Lay,........296 Biographical Anecdotes of Anthony Benezet, ...... 302 Paradise of Negro Slaves—a dream,...........305 An Inquiry into the causes of Premature Deaths, .... 310 Eulogium upon Dr. William Cullen,...........316 Eulogium upon David Rittenhouse,...........535 Cffar-s, UTERARY, MORAL, AND PHILOSOPHICAL. A PLAN FOR ESTABLISHING PUBLIC SCHOOLS IN PENNSYLVANIA, AND FOR CONDUCTING EDUCA- TION AGREEABLY TO A REPUBLICAN FORM OF GO- VERNMENT. ADDRESSED TO THE LEGISLATURE AND CITIZENS OF PENNSYLVANIA, IN THIS YEAR 1786. BEFORE I proceed to the fubjeft of this ef- fay, I mall point out, in a few words, the influence and advantages of learning upon mankind. I. It is friendly to religion, inafmuch as it aflifts in removing prejudice, fuperftition and enthufiafm, m promoting juft notions of the Deity, and in enlarging our knowledge of his works. II. It is favourable to liberty. Freedom can exift only in the fociety of knowledge. "Without learning, men are incapable of knowing their rights, and where learning is confined to a few people, liberty can be neither equal nor univerfal. 2 A PLAN FOR ESTABLISHING PUBLIC HI* It promotes juft ideas of laws and govern- ment. " When the clouds of ignorance are dif- pelled (fays the Marquis of Beccaria) by the radiance of knowledge, power trembles, but the authority of Jaws remains immoveable." IV. It is friendly to manners. Learning in all countries, promotes civilization, and the pleafures of fociety and converfation. V. It promotes agriculture, the great bans of na- tional wealth and happinefs. Agriculture is as much a fciencevas hydraulics, or optics, and has been equally indebted to the experiments and refearcb.es of learned men. The highly cultivated ftate, and the immehfe profits of the farms in England, are derived wholly from the patronage which agriculture has received in that country, from learned men and learned focieties. VI. Manufactures of all kinds owe their perfection chiefly to learning—hence the nations of Europe advance in manufactures, knowledge, and com- merce, only in proportion as they cultivate the arts and fciences. For the purpofe of diffufing knowledge through every part of the ftate, I beg leave to propofe the following fimple plan. }. Let there be one univerfity in the ftate, and let this be eftablilhed in the capital. Let law, phyfic, divinity, the law of nature and nations, ceconomy, &c. be taught in it by public lectures in the winter feafon, SCHOOLS IN PENNSYLVANIA. 3 after the manner of the European univerfities, and let the profefTors receive fuch falaries from the ftate as will enable them to deliver their lectures at a moderate price. II. Let there b*e four college's. One in Philadelphia; One at Carli/Ie; a tnird, for the benefit of our German fellow citizens, at Lancafter ; and a fourth, fome years hence at Pittfburg. In thefe colleges, let young men be inftructed in mathematics and in the higher branches of fcience, in the fame manner that they are now taught in our American colleges. After they have received a teftimonial from one of thefe colleges, let them, if they can afford it, complete their ftudies by fpending a feafon or two in attending the lectures in the univerfity. I prefer four colleges in the ftate to one or two, for there is a certain fize of colleges as there is of towns and armies, that is moft favourable to morals and good government. Oxford and Cam- bridge in England are the feats of diffipation, while the more numerous, and lefs crouded univerfities and colleges in Scotland, are remarkable for the order, diligence, and decent behaviour of their fludents. III. Let there be free fchools eftablifhed in every townfhip, or in- diftrids confifting of one hundred families. In thefe fchools let children be taught to read and write the Englifh and German languages, and the ufe of figures. Such of them as have parents that can afford to fend them from home, and are difpofed to extend their educations, may remove their children from the free fchool to one of the colleges. 4 A PLAN FOR ESTABLISHING POBLIC By this plan the whole ftate will be tied together by one fyftem of education. The univerfity will in time furnifh mailers for the colleges, and the colleges will furnifh mafters for the free fchools, while the free fchools, in their turns, will fupply the colleges and the univerfity with fcholars, ftudents and pupils. The fame fyftems of grammar, oratory and philofophy, will be taught in every part of the ftate, and the literary features of Pennfylvania will thus defig- nate one great, and equally enlightened family. But, how fhall we bear the expenfe of thefe literary inftitutions ?-----1 anfwer—Thefe inftitutions will lejfen our taxes. They will enlighten us in the great bufinefs of finance—they will teach us to en- creafe the ability of the ftate to fupport government, by encreafing the profits of agriculture, and by pro- moting manufactures. They will teach us all the modern improvements and advantages of inland navi- gation. They will defend us from hafty and expenfive experiment in government, by unfolding to us the experience and folly of paft ages, and thus, inftead of adding to our taxes and debts, they will furnifh us with the true fecret of leffening and dnVnarging both of them. But, fhall the eftates of orphans, batchelors and perfons who have no children, be taxed to pay for the fupport of fchools from which they can derive no benefit ? I anfwer in the affirmative, to the firft SCHOOLS IN PENNSYLVANIA. 5 part of the objection, and I deny the truth of the latter part of it. Every member of the community is interefted in the propagation of virtue and knowledge in the ftate. But I will go further, and add, it wiJl be true ceconomy in individuals to fupport public fchools. The batchelor will in time fave his tax for this purpofe, by being able to /leep with fewer bolts and locks to his doors—the eftates of orphans will in time be benefited, by being protected from trie ravages of unprincipled and idle boys, and the children of wealthy parents will be lefs tempted, by bad company, to extravagance- Fewer pillories and whipping pofts, and fmaller goals, with their ufual expenfes and taxes, will be ne- ceffary when our youth are properly educated, than at prefent; I believe it could be proved, that the expenes of confining, trying and executing criminals, amount every year, in moft of the counties, to more money than would be fufficient to maintain all the fchools that would be neceffary in each county. The confeflions of thefe criminals generally fhow us, that their vices and punifhments are the fatal confe- quences of the want of a proper education in early life. I fubmit thefe detached hints to the confideration of the legiflature and of the citizens of Penfylvania. The plan for the free fchools is taken chiefly from' the plans which have long been ufed with fuccef* in 6 OF THE MODE OF EDUCATION Scotland, and in the eaftern ftates * of Americty where the influence of learning, in promoting religion* morals, manners, and good government, has never been exceeded in any country. The manner in which thefe fchools fhould be fup- ported and governed—the modes of determining the Characters and qualifications of fchooimafters, and the arrangement of families in each diftrict, fo that children of the fame religious feet and nation, may be educa- as much as poffible together, will form a proper part of a law for the eftablifhment of fchools, and there- fore does not come within the limits of this platf. • F THE MODE OF EDUCATION PROPE* IN A REPUBLIC. . THE bufinefs of education has acquired a new complexion by the independence of ©ur country. The form of government we have affumed, has created a new clafs of duties to every American. It becomes us, therefore, to examine pur former habits upon this fubject, and in laying the * Th:re are~6oo of thefe fchools in the fmall ftate of Connettrcut, w!i c i at this time have in them' 25, 000 fcholars. tfROPER IN A REPUBLIC 1 foundations for nurferies of wife and good men, to adapt our modes of teaching to the peculiar form of our government. The firft remark that I fhall make upon this fubject is that an education in our own, is to be preferred to an education in a foreign country. The principle of, patriotifm ftands in need of the reinforcement of prejudice, and it is well known that our ftrongeft prejudices in favour of our country are formed in the firlt one and twenty years of our lives. The policy of the Lacedemonians is well worthy of our imitation. When Antipater demanded fifty of their children as hoftages for the fulfillment of a diftant engagement, thofe wife republicans refufed to comply with his de- mand, but readily offered him double the number of their adult citizens, whofe habits and prejudices could not be fhaken by reading in a foreign country. Paffing by, in this place, the advantages to the community from the early attachment of youth to the laws and conftitution of their country, I fhall only remark, that young men who have trodden the paths of fcience together, or have joined in the fame fports, whether of fwimming, fcating, fifhing, or hunting, generally feel, thro' life, fuch ties to each other, as add greatly to the obligations of mutual benevolence. I conceive the education of our youth in this country to be peculiarly neceffary in Pennfylvania, while our citizens are compofed of the natives of fo many diffe- rent kingdoms in Europe. Our fchools of learning, 8 OF THE MODE, OF EDUCATION by producing one general, and uniform fyftem of education, will render the mafs of the people more homogeneous, and thereby fit them more eafily for uniform and peaceable government. I proceed in the next place, to enquire, what mode of education we fliall adopt fo as to fecure to the ftate all the advantages that are to be derived from the proper inftruction of youth; and here I beg leave to remark, that the only foundation for a ufeful education in a republic is to be laid in Religion. Without this there can be no virtue, and without virtue there can be no liberty, and liberty is the object and life of all republican governments. Such is my veneration for every religion that reveals the attributes of the Deity, or a future ftate of rewards and punifhments, that I had rather fee the opinions of Confucius or Mahomed inculcated upon our youth, than fee them grow up wholly devoid of a fyftem of religious principles. But the religion I mean to recommend in this place, is that of the New Tefta- ment. It is foreign to my purpofe to hint at the arguments which eftablifh the truth of the Chriftian revelation. My only bufinefs is to declare, that all its doctrines and precepts are calculated to promote the happinefs of fociety, and the fafety and well being of civil govern- ment. A Chriftian cannot fail of being a republican. The hiftory of the creation of man, and of the relation PROPER IN A REPUBLIC £ 6f our fpecies to each other by birth, which is recorded m the Old Teftament, is the beft refutation that can be given to the divine right of kings, and the ftrongeft argument that can be ufed in favor of the original and natural equality of all mankind. A Chriftian, I fay again, cannot fail of being a republican, for every precept of the Gofpel inculcates thofe degrees of hu- mility, felf-denial, and brotherly kindnefs, which are directly oppofed to the pride of monarchy and the pageantry of a court. A Chriftian cannot fail of being ufeful to the republic, for his religion teacheth him, that no man " liveth to himfelf." And laftly, a Chriftian cannot fail of being wholly inoffenfive, for his religion teacheth him, in all things to do to others what he would wifh, in like circumftanees, they fliould do to him. I am aware that I diffent frorri one of thofe paradox- ical opinions with which modern times abound; and that it is improper to fill the minds of youth with religious prejudices of any kind, and that they fliould be left to choofe their own principles, after they have arrived at an age in which they are capable of judging for themfelves. Could we preferve the mind in childhood and youth a perfect blank, this plan of education would have more to recommend it; but this we know to be impoflible. The human mind runs as- naturally into principles as it does after facts. It fubmits with difficulty to thofe reftraints or partial C IO OF THE MODE OP EDUCATION difcoveries whith are impofed upon it in the infancy oP reafon. Hence the impatience of children to be in- formed upon all fubjedts that relate to the invifible World. But I beg leave to afk, why fhould we purfue • a different plan of education with refpect to religion, from that which we purfue in teaching the arts i*nd fciences ? Do Ave leave our youth to acquire f) (lems of geography, philofophy, or politics, till they have arrived at an age in which they are capable of judging for themfelves ? We do not. I claim no more then i for religion, than for the other fciences, and I add fur- ther, that if our youth are difpofed after they are of age to think for themfelves, a knowledge of one fyftem, will be the beft means of conducting them in a free enquiry into other fyftems of religion, juft as an acquaintance with one fyftem of philofophy is the beft introduction to the ftudy of all the other fyftems in the world. Next to the duty which young men owe to their Creator, I wifh to fee a regard to their country, incul- cated upon them. When the Duke of Suily became prime minifter to Henry the IVth of France, the firft thing he did, he tells us, " Was to fubdue and forget " his own heart." The fame duty is incumbent upon every citizen of a republic. Our country includes family, friends and property, ;.nd fliould be preferred to them all. Let our pupil be taught that he does not belong to himfelf, but that he is public property. Let him be taught to love his family, but let him be PROPER IN A REPUBLIC* II taught,at the fame time, that he muft forfake, and even forget them, when the welfare of his country require* it. He muft watch for the ftate, as if its liberties depended upon his vigilance alone, but he muft do this in fuch a manner a$ not to defraud his creditors, or neglect his family. He muft love private life, but he muft decline no ftation, however public or refponfible it may be, when called to it by the fuffrages of his fellow citizens. He muft love popularity, but he muft defpife it when fet in competition with, the dictates of his judgement, or the real intereft of his country. He muft love character, and have a due fenfe of injuries, but he muft be taught to appeal only to the laws of the ftate, to defend the one, and punifh the other. He muft love family honour, but he muft be taught that neither the rank nor antiquity of his anceftors, can command refpect, without perfonal merit. He muft avoid neutrality in all queltions that divide the ftate, but he muft fhun the rage, and acrimony of party fpir- it. He muft be taught to love his fellow creatures in every part of the world, but he muft cherifh with a more intenfe and peculiar affection, the citizens of Pennfylvania and of the United States, 1 do not wifh to fee our youth educated with a fingle prejudice againft any nation or country; but we impofe a tafk upon human nature, repugnant alike to reafon, revelation and the ordinary dimenfions of the human heart, when we require him to embrace, with equal affection, the whole family of mankind. He muft be taught to amafs 12 OF THE MODE OF EDUCATION wealth, but it muft be only to encreafe his power of contributing to the wants and demands of the ftate. He muft be indulged occafionally in amufements, but he muft be taught that ftudy and bufinefs mould be his principal purfuits in life. Above all he muft love life, and endeavour to acquire as many of its convenien- ces as poflible by induftry and economy, but he muft be taught that this life " is not his own," when the fafety of his country requires it. Thefe are practica- ble leflbns, and the hiftory of the commonwealths of Greece and Rome fhow, that human nature, without the aids of Chriftianity, has attained fhefe degrees of perfejQtion. While we inculcate thefe republican duties upon our pupil, we muft not neglect, at the fame time, to infpire him with republican principles. He muft be taught that there can be no durable liberty but in a republic, and that government, like all other fciences, is of a progreflive nature. The chains which have bound this fcience in Europe are happily unloofed in America. Here it is open to inveftigation and improvement. While philofophy has protected us by its difcoveries from a thoufand natural evils, government has unhap- pily followed with sn unequal pace. It would be to difhonour human genius,only to name the many defects which ftill exift in the beft fyftems of legiflation. We daily fee matter of a perifhable nature rendered durable by certain chemical operations. In like man- ner, I conceive, that it is poflible to combine power in PROPER IN A REPUBLIC. *3 fiich a way as not only to encreafe the happinefs, but to promote the duration of republican forms of government far beyond the terms limited for them by hiftory, or the common opinions of mankind. To aflift in rendering religious, moral and political inftruction more effectual upon the minds of our youth, it will be neceffary to fubject their bodies to phyfical dif- cipline. To obviate the inconveniences of their ftudious and fedentary mode of life, they fhould live upon a temperate diet, confifting chiefly of broths, milk and vegetables. The black broth of Sparta, and the barley broth of Scotland, have been alike celebrated for their beneficial effects upon the minds of young people. They fhould avoid tafting Spirituous liquors. They fliould alfo be accuftomed occafionally to work with their hands, in the intervals of Study, and in the bufy feafons of the year in the country. Moderate fleep, filence, occafional folitude and cleanlinefs, fliould be inculcated upon them, and the utmoft advantage fhould be taken of a proper direction of thofe great principles in human conduct,—fenfibility, habit, imitations and aflbciation. The influence of thefe phyfical caufcs will be power- ful upon the intellects, as well as upon the principles and morals of young people. To thofe who have ftudied human nature, it will not appear paradoxical to recommend, in this effay, a particular attention to.vocal mufic. Its mechanical 14 OF THE MODI: OF EDUCATION effects jr. civilizing the mind, and thereby preparing '- for the influence of religion and government, have been fo often felt and recorded, that it will be unneceflary to mention facts in favour of its ufefulnefe, in order to pxcite a proper attention to it. I cannot help bearing a teftimony, in this place, an-ainft the cuftom, which prevails in fome parts of America, (but which is daily falling into difufe in Kurope) of crowding boys together under one roof for the purpofe of education. The practice is the gloomy remains of monkifh ignorance, and is as unfavorable to the improvements of the mind in ufeful learning, as mor.afteries are to the fpirit of religion. I grant this mode of Lcludingboys from the intercourfe of private families, has a tendency to make them fcholars, but our tn-.fiiefs is to make them men, citizens and chriftians. The vices of young people are generally learned from each other. The vices of adults feldom infect them. By feparating them from each other, therefore, in their hours of relaxation from ftudy, we fecure their r.iorals from a principal fource of corruption, while we improve their manners, by fubjecting them to thofe leflraints which the difference of age and fex, naturally produc; in private families. From the obferva-.ions tiv.if have been made it is plain, the.: I confider it is poflible to convert men into repub* liean machines. This muft be done, if we expect them to perform their parts properly, in the great machine PROPER IN A REPUBLIC *S of the government of the ffcite. That republic is fophif- ticated with monarchy or ariftrocracy that does not revolve upon the wills of the people, and thefe muft be fitted to each other by means of education before they can be made to produce regularity and unifon in go- vernment. Having pointed out thofe general principles, which fhould be inculcated alike in all the fchools of the ftate, I proceed now to make a few remarks upon the method of conducting, what is commonly called, a liberal or learned education in a republic. I fhall begin this part of my fubject, by bearing a teftimony againft the common practice of attempting to teach boys the learned languages, and the arts and fciences too early in life. The firft twelve years of life are barely fufficient to inftrucl a boy in reading, writing and arithmetic. With thefe, he may be taught thofe modern languages which are r.eceffary for him to fpeak. The ftate of the memory, in early life, h favorable to the acquifition of languages, efpecially when they are conveyed to the mind, through the ear. It is, moreover, in early life only, that the organs of fpeech yield in fuch a manner as to favour the juft pronounciation of foreign languages. Too much pains cannot be taken to teach our youth to read and write our American language wuh propriety and elegance. The ftudy of the Greek language conftituted a material part of the literature l6 OF THE MODE OF EDUCATION of the Athenians, hence the fublimiry, purity and immortality offo many of their writings. The ad- vantages of a perfect knowledge of otir language to young men intended for the profeflions of law, phyfic, or divinity are too obvious to be mentioned, but in a ftate which boafts of the firft commercial city in America, I wifh to fee it cultivated by young men, who are intended for the compting houfe, for many fuch, I hope, will be educate! in our colleges. The time is paft when an academical education was thought to be unnecefTary to qualify a young man for merchan- dize. I conceive no profeflion is capable of receiv- ing more embellifliments from it. The French and German languages fhould likewife be carefully taught in all our Colleges. They abound with ufeful books upon all fubjects. So important and neceffary are thofe languages, that a degree fliould never be con- ferred upon a young man who cannot fpeak or tranflate them. Connected with the ftudy of language* is the ftudy of Eloquence. It is well known how great a part it conftituted of the Roman education. It is the firft accomplifhment in a republic, and often fets the whole machine of government in motion. Let our youth, therefore, be inftructed in this art. We do not extol it too highly when we attribute as much to the power of eloquence as to the fword, in bring- ing about the American revolution. PROPER IN A REPUBLIC If With the ufual arts- and fciences that are taught vet our American colleges, I wifh to fee a regular eourfe of lectures given upon Hiftory and Chronology. The fciencc of government, whether it related to conftitutions or laws, can only be advanced by a care- ful felection of facts, and thefe are to be found chiefly in hiftory. Above all, let our youth be inftructed in the hiftory of the ancient republics, and the pro- grefs of liberty and tyranny in the different ftates of Europe. I wifh like wife to fee the numerous facts that relate to the origin and prefent ftate of commerce, together with the nature and principles of Money, reduced to fuch a fyftem, as to be intelligible and a- greeable to a young man. If we confider the com- merce of our metropolis only ^s the avenue of thi wealth of the ftate, the ftudy of it merits a place irfc a young man's education ; but, I coniider commerce in a much higher light when I recommend the ftudy" of it in republican feminaries". I view it as the beft fccirrity againft the influence of hereditary monopolies of land, and, therefore, the fureft protection againft ariftocracy. I confider its effects as next to thofe of religion m humanizing mankind, and faftly, t view it as the means of uniting the different nations ef the wor/d together by the tie9 of mutual want* and obligations* Chemiftry by unfolding to us the effects of her.t and mixture, enlarges our acquaintance with- the pronders of nature and the mvfteries o£ art; in.oce I) IS OV THE MODE OF EDUCATION it has become, in moft of the univerfities of Europe, a neceffary branch of a gentleman's education. In a young country, where improvements in agriculture and manufactures are fo much to be defired, the cultiva- tion of this fcience, which explains the principles of both of them, fhould be confidered as an object of the utmoft importance. A^ain, let your youth be inftructed in all the means of promoting national profperity and inde- pendence, whether they relate to improvements in agriculture, manufactures, or inland navigation. Let him be inftructed further in the general principles of legiflation, whether they relate to revenue, or to the prefervation of life, liberty or property. Let him be directed frequently to attend the courts of juftice, where he will have the beft opportunities of acquairing habits of comparing, and arranging his ideas by obferving .the difcovery of truth, in the examination of witneffes, and where he will hear the laws of the ftate explained, with all the advan- tages of that fpecies of eloquence which belongs to the bar. Of fo much importance do I conceive it to be, to a young man, to attend occafionally to the decifions of our courts of law, that I wifh to fee our colleges eftablifhed, only in county towns. But further, confiderins the nature of our con- nection with the United States,- it will be neceffary to make our pupil acquainted with all the prerogatives PROPER IN A REPUBLIC. 19 of the national government. He muft be inftructed in the nature and variety of treaties. He muft know the difference in the powers and duties of the feveral fpecies of ambaffadors. He muft be taught wherein the obligations of individuals and of ftates are the fame, and wherein they differ. In fhort, he muft accquire a general knowledge of all thofe laws and forms, which unite the fovereigns of the earth, or feparate them from each other. I beg pardon for having delayed fo long to fay any thing of the feparate and peculiar mode of education proper for women in a republic. I am fenfible that they muft concur in all our plans of of education for young men, or no laws will ever render them effectual. To qualify our women for this purpofe, they fhould not only be inftructed in the ufual branches of female education, but they fkould be tr.ught the principles of liberty and go- vernment ; and the obligations of patriotifm fliould be inculcated upon them. The opinions and conduct of men are often regulated by the women in the moft arduous enterprizes of life > and their approbation is frequently the principal reward of the hero's dangers, and the patriot's toils. Befidcs, the firft impreffions upon the minds of children are gene- raly derived from the women. Of how much con- fequence, therefore, is it in a republic, that they fhould think juftly upon the great fubjects of liberty and government! 20 OF THE MODE OF EDUCATION, 8fO The complaints that have been made againft religion, liberty and learning, have been, againft each of them in a feparate ftate. Perhaps like certain liquors, they fhould only be ufed in a ftate of mixture. They mutually aflift in correcting the abufes, and in improving the good effects of each other. From the combined and reciprocal influence of religion, liberty and learning upon the morals, manners and knowledge of individuals, of thefe, upon govern- ment, and of government, upon individuals, it is impoflible to meafure the degrees of happinefs and perfection to which mankind may be raifed. For my parr, I can form no ideas of the golden age, fo much celebrated by the poets, more delightful, than the contemplation of that happinefs which it is now in , the power of the legiflature of Pennfylvania to confer upon her citizens, by eftablifhing proper modes and places of education in every part of the ftate. Observations upon the study of the latin anb greek languages, as a branch of liberal education, with hints of a plan of liberal instruction, without them, accommodated to the present state of society, manners, and government in the united states. IT requires the recolleftion of efcapes from a lion and a bear, to encounter the ftrong and univerfal prejudice, in favor of the Latin and Greek languages, as a neceffary branch of liberal education. If, in combating this formidable enemy of human reafon, I fliould be lefs fuccesful than the Hebrew {tripling' was in contending with the giant of the Philiftines, I hope it will be afcribed wholly to the want of fkill to direct arguments, which, in other hands, would lay this tyrant in the duft. I fhall attempt to difcufs this queftion, by firft deliv- ering a few general propofitions. I fhall afterwards apply thefe propofitions, and anfwer fuch arguments as are ufually urged in favor of the Latin and Greek languages as neceffary parts of an academic education. I. The great defign of a liberal education is, to prepare youth for ufefulnefs here, and for happinefs hereafter. « OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OP THB II. The proper time for acquiring the neceflhry branches of knowledge for thefe important purpofes, is in the firft eighteen years of life. III. From four to five years are ufually fpent in acquiring a competent knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages. IV. The knowledge of things always preceeds the knowledge of words. Children difcaver the truth of this obfervation every day. They know all the objects around them, long before they are able to call them by their proper names, or even to arti- culate founds of any kind. It is fuppofed that children acquire 'more ideas of things in the firft three years of their lives, than they acquire in any thirty years afterwards. V. The acquifition of words leflens the ability of the mind to acquire ideas. That underftanding muft have uncommon ftrength, which does not contract an oblique direction by being employed four or five years in learning the Latin or Greek languages. VI. The difficulty of acquiring thofe dead languages, and the little pleafure which accompanies the knowledge of them in early life, occafion the principal obftacles to teaching, in mafters, and and learning, in fcholars. LATIN AND GREEK LANCUAGES. 23 The famous Bufby is faid to have died of « bad Latin;" that is, the ungrammatical verfions of his fcholars broke his heart. How few boys relifh Latin and Greek leffons! The pleafure they fometimes difcover in learning them, is derived either from the tales they read, or from a competition, which awak- ens a love of honour, and which might be dis- played upon a hundred more ufeful fubjects ; or it may arife from a defire of gaining the good will of their mafters or parents. Where thefe incentives are wanting, how bitter does the ftudv of languages render that innocent period of life, which feems ex- clufivcly intended for happinefs ! " I wifh I had never been born," faid a boy of eleven years old, to his mother: " why, my fon ?" faid his mother. " Be- caufe I am born into a world of trouble." " What i( trouble," faid his mother fmiling, « have you " known, my fon ?"—" Trouble enough, mamma," faid he, " two Latin leffons to get, every day." This boy was not deficient in genius nor in application to books. He often amufed himfelf in reading natural and ancient hiftory, was inquifitive after knowledge of every kind, and was never heard to afk a foolifh cr impertinent queftion. VII. Many fprightly boys of excellent capacities for ufeful knowledge, have been fc difgufted with the dead languages, as to retreat from the drudgery of fchools, to low company, whereby they have become bad mem- 24 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF THE bers of fociety, and entailed mifery upon all who have been connected with them. VIII. The Latin and Greek languages are the firft tefts of genius in fchools. Where boys difcover a want of capacity for them, they are generally taken from fchool, or remain there the butts of their com- panions. Dr. Swift early difcovered a want of tafte for the dead languages. It would be unjuft to men- tion this fact, without afcribing it to the vjice of reafon and nature fpeaking in this great man. He had no relifh for the hufks of literature. Truth and knowledge were alone commenfurate to the dignity and extent of his mind. IX. The ftudy of fome of the Latin and Greek claffics is unfavourable to morals and religion. In- delicate amours, and fhocking vices both of gods and men, fill many parts of them. Hence an early and dangerous acquaintance with vice ; and hence, from an affociation of ideas, a diminfhed refpect for the unity and perfections of the true God. Thofe claffics which are free from this cenfure, contain little elfe but the hiftories of murders, per- petrated by kings, and related in fuch a manner as to excite pleafure and admiration. Hjnee the univerfal preference of the military char icter to all others—To the fame caufe we may afcribe the early paffion for a cockade in fchool boys ; a::d the the frequent adoption of die principles and vies of LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGES. 2$ armies, by young men who are deftined for other profeflions. X. The ftudy of the Lntin and Greek languages is improper in the prefent ftate of fociety and government in United States. While Greek and! Latin are the only avenues to fcience, education will always be confined to a few people. It i^ only by rendering knowledge univerfal, that a re- publican form of government can be prefervcd in our country. I fhall hereafter mention other reafons why the ftudy of thefe languages is improper in a peculiar manner in the United States. XI. The cultivation of the Latin and Greek lan- guages is a great- obftacle to the cultivation and: perfection of the Englifh language. XII. It is likewife one of the greateft obftructions that has ever been thrown in the way of propagating ufeful knowledge. On each of thefe two laft propofitions I fhall treat more fully in another place. I proceed now to confider the principle arguments that have been urged in favour of the Latin and Greek languages, as neceffary parts of a liberal? education. E l6 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF THE I. A knowledge of the Latin or Greek grammar, it has been faid, is neceflary for our becoming acquainted with Englifh grammar. There was a time when the authority of a great name impofed this opinion upon me, and even led me publicly to adopt it, but I am now fatisfied that it is wholly deftitute of truth. I have known many bachelors and mailers of arts, who were incorrect Englifh fcholars, and many per- fons of both fexes, ignorant of the dead languages, who both wrote and fpoke Englifh, agreeably to the ftrictefl rules of modern grammar. Indeed I cannot help afcribing the late improvements in the Englifh language chiefly to the neglect of the Latin and Greek languages. The Greek is fuppofed to be the moft perfect language both in its conftruction and harmony, that has ever been fpoken by mortals. Now this language was not learned through the medium of any other. Hence it was acquired and fpoken with equal propriety by all ranks of people, and not lefs- by an apple woman, than by the celebrated orators of Greece. In that highly favoured Hurfery of human genius, the avenues to knowledge were not obftruct- ed by two or three dead, or even foreign languages j nor was the precious feafon of youth, when memory is moft faithful, and curiofity moft active, mis-fpent in learning words. Hence the fame of ancient Greece in arts and fciences, and hence the fublimity of the orations of Demofthenes, and of the poems of Homer. There was nothing in the compofition LATIN AND GREEK LANGnAGES. 27 of the blood, or in the ftructure of the nerves of the ancient Greeks, which gave them a pre-eminence over the reft of mankind. It arofe entirely from their being too wife to wafte the important years of edu- cation in learning to call fubftances, by two or three different names, inftead of ftudying their qualities and ufes. The conftruction of the Englifh, differs mate- rially from that of the Latin and Greek languages; and the attempt to accommodate it to the Greek and Roman grammars has checked its improvement in many inftances. I hope to prove hereafter, that a knowledge of grammar, like a knowledge of pro- nunciation, fhould be learned only by the ear in early life. The pradice of teaching boys Englifh grammar, through the medium of a dead language, is as abfurd, as it would be for a parent to force his child to chew peb- bles or mahogany, in order to prepare its gums or teeth to mafticate bread and meat. 2. We are told that the Roman and Greek authors are the only perfect models of tafte and eloquence, and that it is neceffary to ftudy them, in order to. acquire their tafte and fpirit. Strange language indeed! what! did nature exhauft herfelf in Greece and Rome ? Are the ancients the only repofitories of the great principles of tafte and genius? I reject the fuppofitionj and will venture to affert, in oppofition to it, that we fhall never equal the fublime and original authors of antiquity until we ceafe to ftudy them. 28 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF THE Nature is always the fame. Let us yield to her infpi- ration alone, and avail ourfelves of allufions to the many difcoveries which have lately been made in her works. Shakefpeare owes his fame, as a fublime and original poet, to his having never read (as is generally believed) a Latin or Greek author. Hence he fpoke from nature, or rather, nature fpokc thro'him. But it fhould be remembered that art, as well as nature feeds the flame of ^caius. By neglecting the ancients, we may bor- row imagery from the many ufeful and well known arts which have been the inventions of modern ages, and thereby furpafs the antients in the variety and effect of our compofitions. It is to this paffion for ancient writers that we are to afcribe the great want of originality, that marks too many of the poems of mod- ern times. A judicious critic has obferved, that the defcriptions of Spring, which are publifhed every year in England, apply chiefly to the climates of Greece and the neighbourhood of Rome. This is the natural effect of a fervile attachment to the ancient poets. It infenfibly checks invention and leads to imitation. The pleafure with which the poems of the fhoemaker, the milk-maid, and the Ayivfhire ploughman, have been read by all claifes of people, \>ru\ es th.it an acquaintance with the Greek cr Roman poets, is not neceffary to infpire juft ideas, or to produce Inrmony in poetry. Dr. Swift, as an author, owes nothjng to the ancients* He has attained to what Pope calls the " r.i-jefty" and what Lord Shaftefbury calls the " divinenefs" of fin> LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGES. 29 plicity in writing. All his compofitions, exemplify his own perfect definition of ftyle. They confift of " proper words in their proper places." I have heard of % learned gentlemen in Scotland, who, when any of his friends propofed to introduce a ftranger to him, aflc- ed only, as a proof of his tafte for compofition, whether he admired Dr. Young's Night Thoughts ? Were I to receive a vifitor upon fimilar terms, my only queftion fhould be, " does he admire the ftyle of Dr. v Swift t" \ Under this head I fhall only add, that the moft intimate acquaintance with the Roman and Greek writers will not produce perfection of ftyle in men who are devoid of tafte and genius. Hence we fometimes find the moft celebrated teachers of the Latin and Greek languages extremely deficient in Englifh compo- fition. I acknowledge that Milton, Addifon, Hume, Middleton and Bolingbroke, whofe ftyles have been fo much admired, were all Latin and Greek fcholars. But in thefe authors, a native ftrength of genius, and tafte prefcrved their writings from the affectation and obfcurity which are imparted to Englifh compofitions, by an adherence to the grammars and arrangement of the Latin and Greek languages. 3. It has been faid that we cannot know the ufe or meaning of thofe numerous Englifh words which are derived from the Latin and Greek, without a know- ledge of thofe languages. To this I may anfwer, that 30 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF TH£ what proves too much, proves nothing at all. The argument that has been mentioned, proves that a knowledge of the Celtic, the Saxon, the German, the French, the Italian and the Dutch, is neceffary to ena- ble us to underftand the ufe of many Englifh words; for far the greateft part of them are derived from thofe languages. But I object further to this argument, that if a knowledge of the derivation of Englifh words from the Greek and Latin languages, fhould be follow- ed by a ftrict regard to their original meaning, it would lead us into many miftakes. The derivation of the word " angel" would lead us to contemplate a meffen- ger, infcead of a perfect finite intelligence. ' The derivation of the word " rebellion" would lead us to contemplate a war commenced by a conquered people: inftead of a refiftance to the juft authority of govern- ment. Many other inftances of fimilar incongruity might be mentioned between the meaning of certain Englifh words, and their Roman and Greek originals. I conclude therefore that a knowledge of the derivation of words is not neceflary to teach us their proper ufe and meaning. Cuftom, which is the law and rule of fpeech, and what is, inftead of what Jljouldbe common, will always govern the ufe of words. Where jcuftom is unknown, modern Englifh dictionaries will fupply ks place. Here I beg leave to repeat that the ftudy of the Greek and Latin languages by the Englifh nation has been one of the greateft obftructions, that ever LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGES. 3* has been thrown in the way of the propagation of nfeful knowledge. By rendering our language unintel- ligible to the greateft part of the people who hear or read it, it has made it an improper vehicle of inftruction. The orations of Demofthenes, we are told, were, like earthquakes in ancient Greece. They moved whole nations. The reafon of this is plain. He never ufed a fingle word in any of them, but What was alike intelligible to all claffes of his hearers. The effect of Indian eloquence upon the councils and wars of the favages in America, depends wholly upon its being perfectly underftood and felt by every member of their communities. . It has( often been remarked that in England no play will fucceed without action, while fentiment alone infure3 the loudeft claps of applaufe, in the theatres of France. The reafon of this is obvious. The Englifh lan- guage requires action to tranflate it, to half the common audience of a theatre, whereas the French language, which is uniform and ftationary, is un- derftood, and, of courfe, the fentiment which is conveyed by it, is felt and enjoyed by all who hear it. The writings of Voltaire are quoted by the hairdreffers and milliners of Paris, becaufe they arc written in the fimple language of the country, while many of the moft celebrated Britifh authors cannot be underftood by common readers, without the help of a dictionary or interpreter. Richardfon and Fielding are an exception to this remark. They are alike intelligible and acceptable to the learned and* 32 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF THE unlearned, znafmuch as they have conveyed all their ideas in plain, but decent Englifh words. The po- pularity of the methodift preachers may be afcribed in part to their fpeaking in a language that is intel- ligible to the common people. It is true, many of them are deficient in education, but this deficiency appears more in an ignorance of the conftrudlion of the Englifh language, than in the proper ufe of Englifh words, and perhaps this may be afcribed chiefly to their extempore mode of preaching. It is happy for fome of thofe churches where the Latin and, Greek languages are confidered as neceffary parts for education in their clergy, that part of the public worfhip of God is confined to reading the fcriptures, and to forms of prayer, both of which are written in Englifh, and are intelligible to every clafs of hearers. Such congregations are not left to the mercy of their preach- ers in every part of divme fervice. A pious woman in London who heard her minifter fpeak of the Deity, by the name of the great Philanthropift, afked when fhe came home, what heathen god Philanthropift was ? There are few fermons compofed by Latin and Greek fcholars in which there are not many hundred words, that are equally unintelligible to a majority of their hearers. Hence I cannot help thinking that were John 0 the Baptift to appear again in our world, and to fend to fome of our doctors of divinity, or to many of our young preachers to enquire after the figns of their divine miffion, few of them could adopt the anfwer LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGES. 33 of our Saviour and fay that to the poor the gofpel was " preached." It will require a total ignorance of the Latin and Greek languages, or an uncommon mixture of good fenfe and piety in a preacher who is acquaint- ed with them, to addrefs an audience in fuch a manner as to be perfectly underftood by the illiterate part of them. I wifh to prefs the confiderations that have been mentioned under this head, home to the feelings of the friends of virtue and religion. It has been demon- ftrated, that the ftudy of the ancient claffics is hurtful to morals. It is equally plain that the corruption of our language by the conftant fubflitution of words of Greek and Latin origin, to thofe which had become familiar and univerfal, from long ufage, has greatly re- tarded the progrefs of knowledge of all kinds, but in a more efpecial manner, a great proportion of that fpecies of it which is delivered from the pulpit. I appeal to the confciences of minifters of the gofpel of all denominations, whether, inftead of expofing their their candidates for the miniftry, to temptation from that kind of learning " which puffeth up, without " edifying," it would not be better to direct them to employ the time which is ufually mif-pent in acquiring it, in ftudying the fcriptures, and in making themfelves mailers of the Englifh language ? It is im- poflible to tell what great improvements would be made by thefe means in moral happinefs in the United States. F 24 OBSURVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF TH-T 4. We are told tliat a knowledge of the Greek and Roman languages, is neceffary to enable us to under- ftand the frequent allufions that are made by Englifh writers to the mythology of thofe ancient nations. To this I anfwer, that the lefs we know of this fuhjcdt, the better •, for what is .the hiftory of the ancient fables, but an agreeable defcrlption of frauds—rapes—and murders, which, while they pleafe the imagination, ftiock the moral faculty p It is high time to ceafe from idolizing the idolatry of Greece and Rome. Truth alone is knowledge, and fpending time in ftudying Greek and Reman fictions, is only labouring to be more ignorant. If there is any moral contained in thefe fictions, it is fo much involved in obfeurity, as not to be intelligible to a young man at that time of life m which he ufually becomes acquainted with them. Happy will it be for the prefent and future generations, kf an ignorance of the Latin and Greek languages, fhould banifh from modern poetry, thofe difgraceful invocations of heathen gods, which indicate no lefs a want of genius, than a want of reverence for the true God. I fhall only add in this place, that the beft writers in the Englifh language fcldom borrow allu- fions from the mythology of the Greek or Roman nations. Richardfon and Fielding have paffed them by, 'and hence arifes another reafon why the works of thofe authors are fo univerfally intelligible and acceptable to to all clafles of readers. LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGES. 55 5. It lias been faid, that the Latin language has become a neceffary part of liberal knowledge, inas- much as the European nations have by common con- fent made it the vehicle of their difcoveries. This argument had fome weight while fcience oonfifted on- ly learning what was known ; but fince the enquiries of phiiofophers have been directed to new objects of observation and experiment, the Latin language has not been able to keep pace with the number and ra- pidity of their difcoveries. Where fhall we find Latin words to convey juft ideas of the many terms which electricity—chemiftry—navigation—and many other fciences have introduced Into our modern languages ? It is from experience of the infufficiency of the Latin language for this purpofe, that moft of the modern na- tions of Europe have been obliged to adopt their own languages, as the vehicles of their difcoveries, in fcience. If this argument had been acknowledged to have weight in Europe, it fhould,. from local cifcum- ftances, have no weight in America. Here we have no intercourfe with any part of Europe, except her com- mercial feaports, and in thefe, all bufine/s is tranf- acted in modern languages. America, with refpect to the nations of Europe, is like the new planet, with refpect to thofe, whofe revolution^ have long been defcribed in the folar fyftem. She is placed at too great a diftance from moft of them, to be within the influence of a reciprocal exchange' of the rays of knowledge. Like a certain animal, defcribed by the 36 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OP THE naturalifts. flie muft impregnate herfelf. But while fhe retains a friendly intercourfe with Great Britain, all the valuable difcoveries which are publifhed in Latin, in any part of Europe, will be tranfmitted to her through the medium of Englifh tranflations. 6. It. has been faid that a knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages is. neceffary to the learned pro- feflions of law—phyfi:—and divinity. To this I an- fwer, that the moft ufeful books in each of thefe pro- feflions are now tranflated, or written in Englifh, in confequence of which, knowledge in law—phyfic— and divinity has been greatly multiplied and extended. I fee iio ufe at prefent for a knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages, for a lawyer, a phyfician, or a divine, in the United States, except it be to facilitate the remembrance of a few technical terms which may be retained without It. Two of the moft celebrated and fuccefsful lawyers in the United States, are ftrangers to the Latin language. An eminent phyfichn, who fpent fcveral of the years of his youth in learning this language, has affured me, that he had not more than three times in his life found any advantage from it. Very few phyficians, I believe, (profefTors of medecine only excepted, who are obliged to review Latin thefes previoufly to their publication) retain their knowledge of this language, after they become eftablifhed in bufi- nefs, and if they do, it is preferved lefs from neceffity, than from vanity, or a defire of reviving, by reading LATIN AND CREEK LANGUAGES. 37 the claffics, the agreeable ideas of the early and inno- cent part of their lives. I know that it is commonly believed, that a know- ledge of the Greek language, is neceffary to enable a dlvinefully to underftand the New Teftament. But I object to this opinion, that the moft ufeful and ne- ceffary parts of this divine book are intelligible to the loweft capacities in its prefent Englifh drefs: and I belieVe further, that there have been as many difpUtes among the critics, about the meaning of words, and about editions and tranflations of the New Teftament, as there have been among unlearned chriftians about the meaning of its obfcure and difficult paffages. If a knowledge of the Greek language be neceffary to enable a divine to underftand the New Teftament, it follows, that a critical knowledge of all the dialects in which the different parts of it were origi- nally cornpofed, is equally neceffary for the fame pur- pofe ; and, if neceffary to a divine, why not to the common people, for they are equally interefted in all the truths of revelation ? The difficulties and ab- furdities into which we are led by this propofition, are too obvious to be mentioned. We are very apt to forget the age in which we live. In the fifteenth century, all the knowledge of Europe was locked up in a few Greek and Latin manufcripts. In this confined ftate of knowledge, an acquaintance with the Latin language was thought to be neceffary 33 OBSERVATIONS'ON THE STUDY OF THE to civilize the human mind—hence the teachers of ir acquired the title of " profefTors of humanity " in the European univerfities. But we live in an age in which knowledge has been drawn from its dead repo- fitories, and diffufed by the art of printing, in living languages, through every part of the world. Huma- nity has therefore changed fides. Her gentlenefs is now altogether in favour of modern literature. We forget not only the age, but the country Tike- wife in which we live. In Europe many ancient con- ftitutions—laws—treaties—official letters—and even private deeds, are written in Latin1—hence the know-* ledge of it has fometimes been found ufeful for ftates- men and lawyers—but all the conftitutions, laws, treaties, public letters, and private deeds of the United States, are written in Englifh •, arid of courfe a know- ledge of the Latin language is not neceflary to un- derftand them. It is therefore as ufelefs in America, as the Spanifh great-coat is in the ifland of Cuba, or the Dutch foot-flove, at the Cape of Good Hope. We forget further the difference of occupation be- tween the inhabitants of the prefent, and of the fifteenth century. Formerly public prayers and war were the only bufincfs of man : but fince agriculture, manufac- tures and commerce, have afforded fuch different and profitable employments to mankind, there cannot be greater folly than to learn two languages which are no ways connected with the advancement of any of them. LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGE?. 39 '< I once thought health, the greateft bleffing in the « world," faid Mr. Rittenhoufe to the author of this effay, « but I do not think fo now. There is one thing " of much greater value, and that is time." This opinion of our excellent American philofopher, is true every where, but in a more efpecial manner in the United States. Here the opportunities of acquiring knowledge and of advancing private and public intereft are fo numerous, and the rewards of genius and hi- duftry fo certain, that not a particle of time fhould be mis-fpent or loft. We occupy a new country. Our principal bufinefs fliould be to explore and apply its refources, all of which prefs us to enterprize and hafte. Under thefe circumftances, to fpend four or five years in learning two dead languages, is to turn our backs upon a gold mine, hi order to amufe ourfelves in catching butterflies. It is agreeable to hear of the progrefs of human reafon in the gradual declenfion of the ufual methods of teaching the Latin and Greek languages w ithin the laft forty years in Europe. Formerly boys were obliged to commit whole volumes of Latin and Greek poetry to memory, as the only means of learning thofe languages. Nor was this all j they were obliged to compofe Latin verfes, without the leaft regard being paid to genius, or tafte for poetry. The laft act of lhhool tyranny, was to compel boys to read the ancient claffics without the help of tranflations. All thefe methods of teaching the dead language* are now laid 40 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF THE afide. The next ray of truth that irradiates human reafon upon this fubject, I hope will teach us to reject the Latin and Greek languages altogether, as branches of a liberal education. The progrefs of human reafon fliould J ike wife be acknowledged in having banifhed Latin and Greek quotations from fermons, and other religious tracts, which are intended for the common people. Such quotations are to be found only in books of fcience, addreffed to the members of the learned profeflions, or to perfons who are fuppofed to be acquainted with the Latin and Greek languages. There are certain follies, like the objects of fight, which cannot be feen.when the eye is placed too near them. We are ftruck with pity and horror in con- templating the folly difcovcred by our anceftors in their military expeditions to the holy land of Paleftine- The generations which are to follow us, will probably view our partiality to the claflic ground of Greece and Rome, with fimilar emotions. We laugh at the credulity of thofe nations who worfliipped apes and crocodiles, without recolleaing, that future ages will treat our fuperftitious veneration for the ancient poets and ora- tors, with the fame ridicule. Pofterity, in reading the hiftory of the American revolution, will wonder that in a country where fo many exploits of wlfdom and virtue were performed, the human underftanding was fettered by prejudices in favour of the Latin and Greek LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGES. 41 languages. But I hope with the hiftory of this folly, fome hiftorian will convey to future generations, that many of the moft active and ufeful characters In accomplifhing this revolution, were ftrangers to the formalities of a Latin and Greek education. It is high time to diftinguifh between a philofopher, and a fcholar, between things and-words. "He " was educated at the college of-----" faid a gentle- man to his friend, fpeaking of a young man who was known to them b >ui. " You mean Sir," replied his friend, " he got his learning at the college of-----; but " as to education, he appears to have received none " any where." This young man was an excellent Latin and Greek fcholar, but knew nothing of men, or things. Let it not be fuppofed from any thing that has been here advanced, that I wifh the knowledge of the Latin and Greek languages to be extinct in the world. Far from it. My wifh is to fee it preferved, like the know- ledge of law, or medicine, as a diftinct profeffion. Let the perfons, who devote themfelves to the ftudy of thefe languages, be called linguifts, or interpreters, and let them be paid for their tranflations and explanations of Latin and Greek books, and other compofitions in thofe languages. No more confidence will be placed by the public, in the members of this new profeffion, than is daily placed in lawyers and phyficians, in matters of much greater importance; nor will more- G 42 OBSERVATIONS ON THE STUDY OF THE credit be given to them, than we are accuftomed to give to travellers and hiftorians. There can be no more reafon why every man ftiould be capable of tranflating or judging of a Latin or Greek book, than there can be why every man fliould be a lawyer or a phyfician, or why he fhould be obliged to vifit Conftantinople or Grand Cairo, in order to become acquainted with the fituation of thefe two great cities. If this method of preferving and applying the dead languages fhould be adopted, young men will learn them as they do law and phyfic, by ferving an apprenticefhip, inftead of going to fchool. The following advantages would Immediately attend the rejection of the Latin and Greek languages a« branches of a liberal education. I. It would improve, and finally perfect the Englifh language, by checking the increafe of thofe fuperfluous words which are derived from the Latin and Greek languages. What ufe have we for feftivity—celebrity —hilarity—amenity—and a hundred other duplicate words, with which Johnfon and Harris have corrupted and weakened our language, and which are unintelli- gible to three fourths of common Englifh readers? The rejection of the ancient languages, would further banifh Latin and Greek words, fuch as, exit, fecit, excudit, pinxit, acute, finis, bona fide, ipfo facto, ad valo- rem, and a hundred others, equally difgufting, from Englifh compofitions. It would moreover prefer7e LATIN AND GREEK LANGUAGES. 43 our language from encroachments of French and Ita- lian words, fuch as eclat—amateur—douceur—en pajfant —corpr—lilettanli—f Columbus, of exploring a new world, was long viewed, in moft of the courts of Europe, as the dream of a vifionary failor. But why do we go to an cient times for proofs of important innovations in human affairs having been treated as Utopian fchemes. You and I recollect the time, when the abolition of negro flavery m our ftate, as alfo when the independence of the United States, and the prefent wife and happy confed- eracy of our republics, were all confidered by many of our fober prudent men, as fubjeas of an Utopian nature. PROPER FOR SCHOOLS. 73 If thofe benefaaors of mankind, who have levelled mountains in the great road of human life, by the difcoveries or labours which have been mentioned, have beeen ftigmatized with obloquy, as vifionary projeaors, why fliould an individual be afraid of fimilar treatment, who has only attempted to give to that road, from its beginning, a ftraight direaion. If but a dozen men like yourfelf, approve of my opinions, it will overbalance the moft illiberal oppofi- tion they may meet with, from all the learned vulgar of the United States. For the benefit of thofe perfons who confider opinions as improved, like certain liquors, by time ; and who are oppofed to innovations, only becaufe they did not occur to their anceftors, I fhall conclude my letter with an anecdote of a minifter in London, who, after em- ploying a long fermon, in controverting what he fuppofed to be an heretical opinion, concluded it with the following words, " I tell you, I tell you my bre* " thren,—I tell you again,—that an old error is better " than a new truth." With great regard I am, Dear Sir, Your's fincerely, BENJAMIN RUSH Philadelphia, Augufl 20th, 1790. L 74 ON THE AMUSEMENTS, &C. P. S. Since writing the above letter, an ingenious German friend of mine has informed me, that a curious work has lately appeared in Germany, entitled, *' A « treatife on human mifery," written by a Mr. Salz- man, an enlightened fchool-mafter, in which a ftriking view is given of the mifery inflicted upon part of the human race, by the prefent abfurd, and cruel modes of conduaing education in public fchools. The author concludes this part of his work, my friend informs me, with a dream, in which he beholds with ineffable joy, the avengiug angel defcending from heaven, and after- wards con fuming in an immenfe bonfire, certain abfucd fchool^books, and all the ferrules in the world. Thoughts upon female education, accommodat- ed TO THE PRESENT STATE OF SOCIETY, MANNERS, .and government, in the united states of America. Addressed to the visitors of the young ladies' academy in philadelphia, 28th july, 17s7, at the close of the quarterly examination, and afterwards published at the request of the visitors. GENTLEMEN, IH AVE yielded with diffidence to the felicita- tions of the Principal of the Academy, in undertaking to exprefs my regard for the profperity of this feminary of learning, by fubmitting to your candor, a few Thoughts upon Female Education. The firft remark that I fhall make upon this fubjea, is, that female education fhould be accommodated to the ftate of fociety, manners, and government of the coun- try, in which it is conduaed. This remark leads me at once to add„that the educati- on of young ladies, in this country, fhould be conduaed upon principles very different from what it is in Great Britain, and in fome refpeas, different from what it was when we were part of a monarchical empire. There are feveral circumftances in the fituation, em- ployments, and duties of women in America, which require a peculiar mode of education. 16 THOUGHTS UPON I. The early marriages of our women, by contraaing the time allowed for education* renders it neceflary to contraa its plan, and to confine it chiefly to the more afeful branches of literature, II. The ftate of property in America, renders it neceflary for the greateft part of our citizen, to employ themfelves, in different occupations, for the advance- ment of their fortunes. This cannot be done without the affiftance of the female members of the community, They muft be the ftewards, and guardians of their hufbands' property, That education, therefore, will he moft proper for our women, which teaches them to difcharge the duties of thofe offices with, the moft fuccefs and reputation. III. From the numerous avocations from their families, to which profeffional life expofes gentlemen in America, a principal fhare of the inftruaion of children naturally devolves upon the women. It be- comes us therefore to prepare them by a fuitable education, for the difcharge of this moft important duty of mothers, IV. The equal fhare that every citizen has in the hberty, and the poffibie flare he may have in the government of our country, make it neceflary that our ladies fhould be qualified to a certain degree by a pecu- FEMALE EDUCATION. 77 Jiar and fuitable cdueation, to concur in inftruaing their fons in the principles of liberty and government, V. In Great Britain the bufinefs of fervants is a regular occupation ; but in America this humble ftation is the ufual retreat of unexpeaed indigence; hence the fervants in this country poffefs lefs knowledge and fubordination than are required from them; and hence, our ladies are obliged to attend more to the private af- fairs of their families, than ladies generally do, of the fame rank in Great Britain. " They are good fervants," faid an American lady of diftinguifhed merit, * in a letter to a favorite, daughter, § " who will do well with " good looking after." This circumftance fhould have great influence upon the nature and extent of female education in America. The branches of literature moft effential for a young lady in this country, appear to be, I. A knowledge of the Englifh language. She fhould not only read, but fpeak and fpell it correaiy. And to enable her to do this, fhe fhould be taught the Englifh grammar, and be frequently examined in applying its rules in common converfation. II. Pleafure and intereft confpire to make the writing of a fair and legible hand, a neceffarv branch of a lady's education. For this purpofe fhe fliould be » Mrs. Graeme. (j Mrs. Elisabe'h Fergufou. 7» THOUGHTS UPON taught not only to fliape every letter properly, but to pay the ftriaeft regard to points and capitals.* I once heard of a man who profeffed to difcover the temper and difpofition of perfons by looking at their hand writing. Without enquiring into the pro- bability of this ftory; I fhall only remark, that there is one thing in which all mankind agree upon thia fubjea, and that is, in confidering writing that is blot- ted, crooked, or illegible, as a mark of vulgar educa- tion. I know of few things more rude or illiberal, than to obtrude a letter upon a perfon of rank or bufi- nefs, which cannot be eafily read* Peculiar care fhould be taken to avoid every kind of ambiguity and affeaation in writing names. I have now a letter in my pofleffion upon bufinefs, from a gentleman of a liberal profeffion in a neighbouring ftate, which I am unable to anfwer, becaufe I cannot difcover the name which is fubferibed to it. f For obvious reafons I would recom- * The yrefent mode of writing among perfons of tafte is to ufe a ca- pital letter only for the firft word of a fentence, and for names of perfoas, places and months, and for the firft word of every line in poetry. The words fhould be fo fhaped that a ftraight line may be drawn between two lines, without touching the extremities of the words in either of them. f Dr. Franklin received many letters while he was in France durin« the American war, from perfons who wifhed to migrate to America, and who appeared to poflefs knowledge and talents that would have been ufe- ful to his country, buttheir names were fubferibed to their letters in fo artificial and affe&ed a manner, that he was unable todecypher them, and •f courfe, did not anfwer t'.em. FEMALE EDUCATION. 7perfeaiy acquainted with all the fafhionable languages of Europe; the other, « opens her mouth with wifdom" and is per- fectly acquainted with all the ufes of the needle, the diftaff, and the loom. The bufinefs of the one, is pleafure; the pleafure of the other, is bufinefs. The one is admired abroad; the other is honoured and beloved at home. « Her children arife up and " call her bleffed,- her hufiband alfo, and lie praifeth her." There is no fame in the world equal to this; nor 'u there a note in mufic half fo delightful, as the refpea- ful language with which a grateful fon or daughter FEMALE LDjTATION. «7 perpetuates the memory of a fenfible and affeaionate mother. It fhould not furpriz e us that Britifh cuftoms, with refpea to-female education, have been tranfplanted into our American fchools and families. We fee marks of the fame incongruity, of time and place, in many other things. We behold our houfes accomodated' to the climate of Great Britain, by eaftern and weftern direaions. We behold our ladies panting in a heat of ninety degrees, under a hat and cufhion, which were calculated for the temperature of a Britifh fummen We behold our citizens condemned and punifhed by a criminal law, which was copied from a country, where maturity in corruption renders public executions a part of the amufements of the nation. It is hich time to awake from this fervility—to ftudy our own charaaer—to examine the age of our country—r.nd to adopt manners in every thing, that fhall be accomo- dated to our ftate of fociety, and to the forms of cur government. In particular it Is incumbent upon us to make ornamental accomplifhments yield to principles and knowledge, in the education of our women. A philofopher once faid " let n;e make all the bal- " lads of a country and I care not who makes its laws." He might with more propriety have faid, let the ladies of a country be educated properly, and they will not only make and adminifter its laws, but form its manners and charaaer. It would rvquire a lively imaginaiton to defcribe, or even to comprehend, the 88 THOUGHTS UPON happinefs of a country, where knowledge and virtue, were generally diffufed among the female fex. Our young men would then be reftrained from vice by the terror of being banifhed from their company. The loud laugh, and the malignant fmile, at the expence of innocence, or of perfonal infirmities—the feats of fuccefsful mimickry—and the low priced wit, which is borrowed from a mifapplication of fcripture phrafes, would no more be confidered as recommendations to the fociety of the ladies. A double entendre in their prefence, would then exclude a gentleman forever from the company of both fexes, and probably oblige him to feek an afylum from contempt, in a foreign country. The influence of female education would be ftill more extenfive and ufeful in domeftic life. The obligations of gentlemen to qualify themfelves by knowledge and induftry to difcharge the duties of benevolence, would be encreafed by marriage ; and the patriot—the hero—and the legiflator, would find the fweeteft reward of their toils, in the approba- tion and applaufe of their wives. Children would dif- cover the marks of maternal prudence and wifdom in every ftation of life ; for it has been remarked that there have been few great or good men who have not been bleffed with wife and prudent mothers. Cyrus was taught to revere the gods, by his mother Mandane —Samuel was devoted to his prophetic office before he was born, by his mother Hannah—Conftantine was refcued from paganifm by his mother Conftantia—and Edward the fixth inherited thofe great and excellent tENtALE EDUCATION. 89 qualities which made him the delight of the age hi which he lived, from his mother, lady Jane Seymour. Many other Inftances might be mentioned, if neceffary, from ancient and modern hiftory, to eftablifh the truth of this propofition. I am not enthufiaftical upon the fubjea of educati- on. In the ordinary courfe of human affairs, we fhall probably too foon follow the footfteps of the nations of Europe in manners and vices. The firft marks we fliall perceive of our declenfion, will appear among our women. Their idlenefs, ignorance, and profli- gacy will be the harbingers of our ruin. Then will the charaaer and performance of a buffoGn on the theatre, be the fubjea of more converfation and praife, than the patriot or the minifter of the gofpel ;—then will our language and "pronunciation be enfeebled and corrupted by a flood of French and Italian words ;—then will the hiftory of romantic amours, be preferred to the pure and Immortal writings of Addifon, Hawkefworth and Johnfon ;—then will our churches be negleaed, and the name of the fupreme being never be called upon, but in profane exclamations ;-*-then will our Sundays be appropriated, only to" feafts and concerts ?—and then will begin all that train of domeftic and political calamities----But, I forbear. The profpea is fo painful, that I cannot help, fi- lently, imploring the great arbiter of human, af- fairs, to interpofe his almighty goodnefs, and to de- N OO THOUGHTS UPON liver us from thefe evils, that, at leaft one fpot of the earth may be referved as a monument of the effeas of good education, in order to fhew in fome degree, what our fpecies was, before the fall, and what it fhall be, after its reftoration. Thus, gentlemen, have I brieflly finifhed what I propofed. If I am wrong in thofe opinions in which I have taken the liberty of departing from general and fafhonable habits of thinking, I am fure you will dif- cover, and pardon my miftakes. But if I am right, I am equally fure you will adopt my opinions ; for to enlightened minds truth is alike acceptable, whether it comes from the lips of age, or the hand of antiquity, or whether it be obtruded by a perfon, who has no other claim to attention, than a defire of adding to the flock of human happinefs I cannot difmifs the fubjea of female education without remarking, that the city of Philadelphia firft faw a number of gentlemen affociated for the purpofc of direaing the education of young ladies. By means of this plan, the power of teachers is regulated and reftrained, and the objeas of education are extended. By the feparation of the fexes in the unformed ftate of their manners, female delicacy is chcrifhed and preferved. Here the young ladies may enjoy all the literary advantages of a boarding-fchool, and at the fame time live under the proteaion of their pa- FEMALE LDUCATION. Ol rents*. Here emulation may be excited without jealoufy,—ambition without envy,—and competition without ftrife. The attempt to eftablifh this new mode of education for young ladies, was an experi- ment, and the fuccefs of it hath anfwered our ex- peaations. Too much praife cannot be given to our principal \ and his affiftants, for the abilities and fidelity with which they have carried the plan into execution. The proficiency which the young ladies have difcovered in reading—writing—fpelling—arith- metic—grammar—geography—mufic—and their dif- ferent catechifms, fince the laft examination, is a lefs equivocal mark of the merit of our teachers, than any thing I am able to exprefs in their favour. But the reputation of the academy muft be fufpended, till the public are convinced, by the future condua and charaaer of our pupils, of the advantages of the inftitution. To you, therefore, Young Ladies, an important problem is committed for folution ; and that is, whether our prefent plan of education be a wife one, and whether it be calculated to prepare you for the duties of focial and domeftic life. 1 know that the ele- vation of the female mind, by means of moral, *«'Unnatural confinement makes a young woman embrace with avi- «< dity every pleafure when ihe is fet free. To relifh domeftic life, one " muit be acquainted wi :h it; f.-r it is in the houfe of her parents a young '< worrun acquires the reliih." Lord Kiims's thougnts upon education, and the cu'ture of the heart. I Anlrew Biown. pz THOUGHTS UPON, &C phyfical and religious truth, is confidered by fome men as unfriendly to the domeftic charaaer of a woman. But this Is the prejudice of little minds, and fprings from the fame fpirit which oppofes the ge- neral diffufion of knowledge among the citizens of our republics. If men believe that ignorance is favourable to the government of the female fex, they are certainly deceived; for a weak and ignorant woman will always be governed with the greateft difficulty. I have fometimes been led to afcribe the invention of ridiculous and expenfive fafhions in fe- male drefs, entirely to the gentlemen*, in order to divert the ladies from improving their minds, and thereby to fecure a more arbitrary and unlimited authority over them. It will be in your power, ladies, to correa the rniftakes and praaice of our fex up- on thefe fubjeas, by demonftrating, that the female temper can only be governed by reafon^ and that the cultivation of reafon in women, is alike friend- ly to the order of nature, and to private as well as public happinfs, * The very expenfive prints of female dreffes which are publiflie* annually in France, are invented and executed wholly by cimmmih. A DEFENCE OF THE USE OF THE BIBLE AS A SCHOOL book. Addressed to the Rev. Jeremy Belknap, of boston. Dear Sir, IT is now feveral months, fince I promifed to give you my reafons for preferring the bible as a fchool book, to all other compofitions. I fhall not trouble you with an apology for my delaying fo long to comply with my promife, but fhall proceed im- mediately to the fubjea of my letter. Before I ftate my arguments in favour of teach- ing children to read by means of the bible, I fliall aflume the five following propofitions.; I. That chriftianity is the only true and perfea religion, and that in proportion as mankind adopt its principles, and obey its precepts, they will be wife, and happy. II. That a better knowledge of this religion is to be acquired by reading the bible, than in any other way. Ill That the bible contains more knowledge necef- fary to man in his prefent ftate, than any other book in the world. 94 defence of the use of the IV. That knowledge is moft durable, and religiou* inftruaion moft ufeful, when imparted in early life, V. That the bible, when not read in fchools, is feldom read in any fubfequent period of life. My arguments in favor of tjie ufe of the bible as a fchool book are founded, I. In the conftitution of the human mind. i. The memory is the firft faculty which opens in the minds of children. Of how much tonfequence, then, muft it be, to imprefs it with the great truths of chriftianity, before it is pre-occupied with lefs intereft- ing fubjeas! As all the liquors, which are poured into a cup, generally tafte of that which firft filled it, fo all the knowledge, which is added to that which is trcafured 'up in the memory from the bible, generally receives ah agreeable and ufeful tinaure from it. 2. There is a peculiar aptitude in the minds of chil- dren for religious knowledge. I have conftantly found them in the firft fix or feven years of their lives, more inquifitive upon religious fubjea?, than upon any others : and an ingenious inftruaor of youth has informed me, that he has found young children more capable of receiving juft ideas upon the moft difficult tenets of religion, than upon the moft fimple branches of human knowledge. It would be ftrange if it were otherwife; for God creates all his means to fuit all his ends. There muft of courfe be a fitnefs between the BIBLE IN SCHOOLS. 95 human mind, and the truths which are cflential to it* happinefs. 3. The influence of prejudice is derived from the im- preffions, which are made upon the mind in early life ; prejudices are of two kinds, true and falfe. In a world where falfe prejudices do fo much mifchief, it would difcover great weaknefs nottooppcfe them, by fuch as are true. I grant that rmny men have rejeaed the prejudices derived from the bible : but I believe no man ever did fo, without having been made wifer or better, by the early operation of thefe prejudices upon his mind. Every juft principle that is to be found in the writings of Voltaire, is borrowed from the Bible : and the mo- rality of the Deifts, which has been fo much admired and praifed, is, I believe, In moft cafes, the effea of habits, produced by early inftruaion in the principles of chriftianity. 4. We are fubjea, by a general law in our natures, to what is called habit. Now if the ftudy of the fcrip- tures be neceflary to our happinefs at any time of our lives, the fooner we begin to read them, the more we fliall be attached to them ; for it is peculiar to all the aas of habit, to become eafy, ftrong and agreeable by repetition. 5. It is a law in our natures, that jwe remember longefl the knowledge we acquire by the greateft number 96 DEFENCE of the use of" the of our fenfes. Now a knowledge of the contents of the bible, is acquired in fchool by the aid of the eyes and the ears-, for children after getting their leffons always fay them to their mafters in an audible voice • of courfe there is a prefumption, that this knowledge will he retained much longer than if it had been acquir- ed in any other way. 6. The interefting events and charaaers, recorded and defcribed in the Old and New Teftaments, are accomodated above all others to feize upon all the faculties of the minds of children. The underftand- ing, the memory, the imagination, the paffions, and the moral powers, are all occafionally addreffed by the various incidents which are contained in thofe divine books, infomuch that not to be delighted with them, is to be devoid of every principle of pleafure that exifts in a found mind. 7. There is a native love of truth in the human mind. Lord Shaftefbury fays, that «truth is fo con- " genial to our minds, that we love even thefhadow " of it :" and Horace, in his rules for compofing an epick poem, eftablifhes the fame law in our natures, by advifing the « fiaions in poetry to refemble truth." Now the bible contains more truths than any other book in the world : fo true is the teftimony that it bears of God in I is works of creation, providence, and redemption, that it is called truth itfelf, byway of pre- eminence above things tInn are only (imply true. Hew BIBLE in schools. w forcibly aie we ftruck wich the evidences of truth, in the hiftory of the Jews, above what we difcover in the hiftory of other nations ? Where do we find a hero, or an hiftorian record his own faults or vices except in the Old Teftament? Indeed, my friend, from fome accounts which I have read of the American revolution, I begin to grow fceptical to all hiftory except to that which is contained in the bible. Now if this book be known to contain nothing but what is materially true, the mind will naturally acquire a love for it from this circumftance : and from this affeaion for the truths of of the bible, it will acquire a difcernment of truth in other books, and a preference of it in all the tranfaaions of life. VIII. There is a wonderful property in the memory ^ which enables it in old age, to recover the knowledge it had acquired in early life, after it had been appa- rently forgotten for forty or fifty years. Of how much confequence, then, muft it be, to fill the mind with that fpecies of knowledge, in childhood and youth, which, when recalled in the decline of life, will fupport the foul under the infirmities of age, and fmooth the avenues of approaching death ? The bible is the only book which is capable of affording this fupport to old age ; and it is for this reafon that we find it refcrted to with fo much diligence and pleafure by fuch old people as have read it in early life. I can recollea many inftances of this kind in perfons who difcovered O 98 DEFENCE OF THE USE OF THF no attachment to the bible, in the meridian of their lives, who have notwithftanding, fpent the evening of them, in reading no other book. The late Sir John Piingle, Phyfician to the Queen of Great Britain, after paffing a long life in camps and at court, clofed it by ftudying the fcriptures. So anxious was he to increafe his knowledge in them, that he wrote to Dr. Michaelis, a learned profc ffer of divinity in Germany, for an explanation of a difficult text of fcripture, a fhort time before his death. IX. My fecond argument in favour of the ufe of the bible in fchools, is founded upon an implied command of God, and upon the praaice of feveral of the wifeft nations of the world.—In the 6th chapter of Deu- teronomy, we find the following words, which are direaiy to my purpofe, « And thou (halt love the " Lord thy God, with all thy heart and with all thy " foul, and with all thy might. And thefe words " which I command thee this day fhall be in thine " heart. And thou fhalt teach them diligently unto thy " children, and fhalt talk of them when thou fitted in " thine houfe, and when thou walkeft by the way, " and when thou Heft down, and when thou rifeft " up." It appears, moreover, from the hiftory of the Jews, that they flourifhed as a nation, in proportion as they honoured and read the books of Mofes, which contain- ed., a written revelation of the will of God, to the chil- BIBLE IN SCHOOLS. 99 f dren of men. The law was not only negkaed, but loft during the general profligacy of manners which accom- panied the long and wicked reign of Manaffah. But the difcovery of it, in the rubbifh of the temple, by Jofiah, and its fubfequent general ufe, were followed by a re- turn of national virtue and profperity. We read further, of the wonderful effeas which the reading of the law by Ezra, after his return from his captiviy in Babylon, had upon the Jews. They hung upon his lips with tears, and fhowed the fincerity of their re- pentance, by their general reformation. The learning of the Jews, for many years confifted in nothing but a knowledge of the fcriptures. Thefe were the text books of all the inftruaion that was given in the fchools of their prophets. It was by means of this general knowledge of their law, that thofe Jews that wandered from Judea into our coun- tries, carried with them and propagated certain ideas of the true God among all the civilized nations upon the face of the earth. And it was from the attachment they retained to the old Teftament, that they procured a tranflation of it into the Greek language, after they loft the Hebrew tongue, by their long abfence from their native country. The utility of this tranflation, commonly called the feptuagint, in facilitating the pro- grefs of the gofpel, is well known to all who are ac- quainted with the hiftory of the firft a<^e of the chriftian church. 100 DEFENCE OF THE USE OF THE But the benefits of an early and general acquaintance with the bible, were not confined only to the Jewifh nations. They have appeared in many countries in Europe, fince the reformation. The induftry, and habits of order, which diftinguifh many of the German nations, are derived from their early inftruaion in the principles of chriftianity, by means of the bible. The. moral and enlightened charaaer of the inhabitants of Scotland, and of the New England States, appears to be derived from the fame caufe. If we defcend from nations to feas, we fhall find them wife and profperous in proportion as they become early acquainted with the fcriptures. The bible is ftill ufed as a fchool book among the quakers. The morality of this fea of chrlftians is univerfally acknowledged. Nor is this all, —their prudence in the management of their private affairs, is as much a mark of their fociety, as their fober manners. I wifh to be excufed for repeating here, that if the bible did not convey a fingle direaion for the attain- ment of future happinefs, it fhould be read in our fchools in preference to all other books, from its containing the greateft portion of that kind of knowledge which is cal- culated to produce private and publick temporal hap- pinefs. We err not only in human affairs, but In religion likewife, only becaufe « we do not know the fcriptures." The oppofite fyftems of the numerous feas of chriftians BIBLE IN SCHOOLS. 101 arife chiefly from their being more inftruaed in cate- chifms, creeds, and confeflions of faith, than in the fcriptures. Immenfe truths, I believe, are concealed in them. The time, I have no doubt, will come, when pofterity will view and pity our ignorance of thefe truths, as much as we do the ignorance of the difcipies of our Saviour, who knew nothing of the meaning of thofe plain paffages in the old teftament which were daily fulfilling before their eyes. Whenever that time fhall arrive, thofe truths which have efcaped our notice^ or, if difcovered, have been thought to be oppofedto each other, or to be inconfiftent with themfelves, will then, like the flones of Solomon's temple, be found fo exaaiy to accord with each other, that they fliall be cement- ed without noife or force, into one fimple and fublime fyftem of religion. But further, we err, not only in religion but In phi- lofophy like wife, becaufe we "do not know or believe. " the fcriptures." The fciences have been compared to a circle of which religion compofes a part. To under- ftand any one of them perfeaiyit is neceflary to have fome knowledge of them all. Bacon, Boyle, and Newton included the fcriptures in the inquiries to which their univerfal geniufes difpofed them, and their philofophy was aided by their knowledge in them. A ftriking agree- ment has been lately difcovered between the hifiory of certain events recorded in the bible and fome of the operations and produaions of nature, particularly thofe which are related in Whitehurft's observations on the 102 DEFENCE OF THE USE OF THt deluge— in Smith's account of the origin of the variety of colour in the human fpecies, and in Bruce's travels. It Temains yet to be fliown how many other events, related in the bible, accord with fome late important difcoveries in the principles of medecine. The events, and the principles alluded to, mutually eftablifh the truth of each other. From the difcoveries of the chriftian philofophers, whofe names have been laft mentioned, I have been led to queftion whether moft harm has been done to revelation, by thofe divines who have unduly multiplied the objeas of faith, or by thofe deifts who have unduly multiplied vhe objeas of reafon, in explaining the fcriptures. I fhall now proceed to anfwer fome of the objec- tions which have been made to the ufe of the bible as a fchool book. I. We are told, that the familiar ufe of the bible in our fchools, has a tendency to leffen a due reverence for it. This objeaion, by proving too much, proves nothing at all. If familiarity leffens refpea for divine things, then all thofe precepts of our religion, which enjoin the daily or weekly worfhip of the Deity, are improper. The bible was not intended to reprcfent a Jewifh ark; and it is an antichriftian idea, to fuppofe that it can be profaned, by being corned into a fchool houfe, or by being handled by children. But where will the bible be read by young people with more reverence than In a fchool ? Not in moft private i.imilies ^ for I believe there are few parents, who pre- BIBLE IN SCHOOLS. IOJ ferve fo much order in their houfes, as is kept Up in our common Englifh fchools. II. We are told, that there are many paffages in the old teftament, that are improper to be read by children, and that the greateft part of it is no way in- terefting to mankind under the prefent difpenfation of the gofpel. There are I grant, fcveral chapters, and many verfes in the old teftament, which in their prefent unfortunate tranflation, fhould be paffed over by children. But I deny that any of the books of the old teftament are not interefting to mankind, under the gofpel difpenfation. Moft of the charaaers, events, and ceremonies, mentioned in them, are perfo- nal, providential, or inftituted types of the Meffiah: All of which have been, or remain yet to be, fulfilled by him. It is from an ignorance or negka of thefe types, that we have fo many deifts in chriftendom j for fo irrefragably do they prove the truth of chriftianity, that I am fure a young man who had been regularly inftruaed in their meaning, could never doubt after- wards of the truth of any of its principles. If any ob- fcurity appears in thefe principles, it is only (to ufe the words of the poet) becaufe they are dark, with t.\- ceffive bright. I know there is an objeaion among many Peo- ple to teach children doarines of any kind, becaufe they are liable to be controverted. But where will this objeaion lead us ?— The being of a God, and the obligations of moralitv, hive both beer- 104 DEFENCE OF THE USE OF THE controverted ; and yet who has objeaed to cur teach* ing thefe doarin.s to our chilldren ? The curiofity and capacities of young people for the myfteries of religion, aw.;kcn much fooner than is generally fuppofed. Of this we have two remarkable proofs in the old teftament. The firft is mentioned in the twelfth chapter of Exodus. " And it fhall come when your children fhall fay unto you, " What mean you by this fervice ?" that ye fliall fay, " It is the facra- " fice of the Lord's paffover, who paffed over the houfes lt of the children of Ifrael in Egypt, when he fmote the " Egyptians, and delivered our houfes. And the chil- " dren of Ifrael went away, and did as the Lord had «' commanded Mofes and Aaron." A fecond proof of the defire of children to be inftruaed in the myfteries of religion, is to be found in the fixth chapter of Deuter- onomy. il And when thy fon afiketh thee in the time to come faying, " What mean the teftimonies—and tlte " ftatutes—and the judgments which the Lord our God " hath commanded you ?" Then thou fhalt fay unto thy fon, ft We were Pharoah's bondmen in Egypt, and " the Lord our God brought us out of Egypt with a " mighty hand." Thefe enquiries from the mouths of children are perfeaiy natural; for where is the parent who has not had fimilar queftions propofed to him by his children upon their being being firft condua- ed to a place of worfhip, or upon their beholding, for the firft time, either of the Sacraments of our religion ? EIBLE IN SCHOOLS. I ©5 Let us not not be wifer than our Maker. If moral precepts alone could have reformed mankind, the mif- fion of the Son of God into our world, would have been unneceffary. He came to promulgate a fyftem of doBrincs, as well as a fyftem of morals. The perfea morality of the gofpel rcfts upon a doBrine, which, though often controverted, has never been refuted, I mean the vicarious life and death of the Son of God. This fublime and ineffable doarine delivers us from the abfurd hypothefes of modern philofophers, con- cerning the foundation of moral obligation, and fixes it upon the eternal and felt moving principle of love. It concentrates a whole fyftem of ethics in a fingle text of Scripture. " A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another, even as I have loved you." By witholding the knowledge of this doarine from children, we deprive ourfelves of the beft means of awakening moral fenfibility in their minds. We do more, we furnifh an argument, for witholding from them a knowledge of the morality of the gofpel like- wife; for this, in many inftances, is as fupematural, and therefore as liable to be controverted, as any of the doarines or miracles which are mentioned in the new teftament. The miraculous conception of the faviour of the world by a virgin, is not more oppofed to the ordinary courfe of natural events, nor is the doarine of the atonement more above human reafon, than thofe moral precepts, which command us to love our enemies, or to die for our friends. P io6 defence of the use of THE III. It has been faid, that the divifion of the bible into chapters and veries, renders it more difficult to be read, by children than many other books. By a little care in a mafter, this difficulty may be ob- viated, and even an advantage derived from it. It may ferve to transfer the attention of the fcholar to the fenfe of a fubjea ; and no perfon will ever read w ell, who is guided by any thing elfe, in his flops, em- phafis, or accents. The divifion of the bible into chapters and verfes, is not a greater obftacle to its be- ing read with eafe, than the bad punauation of moft other books. I deliver this ftricturc upon other books, from the authority of Mr. Rice, the celebrated author of the art of fpeaking, whom I heard declare in a large company in London, that he had never feen a book properly pointed in the Englifh Language. He exem- plified, notwithftanding, by reading to the fame com- pany a paffage from Milton, his perfedt knowledge of the art of reading. Some people, I know, have propofed to introduce extraas from the bible, into our fchools, Inftead of the bible itfelf. Many excellent works of this kind, are in print, but if we admit any one of them, we fhall have the fhme inundation of them that we have had of grammars, fpeliing books, and leffons for children, many of which are publifhed for the benefit of the authors only, and all of them have tended greatly to in- creaSe the expence of education. Befides, thefe extrad* bible in schools. 107 or abridgements of the bible, often contain the tenets of particular feds or perfons, and therefore, may be im- proper for fchools compofed of the children of differ- ent feas of chriftians. The bible is a cheap book, and is to be had in every bookftore. It is, moreover, efteemed and prefered by all feds ; becaufe each finds its peculiar doarines in it. It fhould therefore be ufed in preference to any abridgements of it, or hifto- ries extraaed from it. 1 liHve heard it propofed that a portion of the bible fhould be read every day by the mafter, as a means of inftruding children in It: But this is a poor fubftitute for obliging children to read it as a fehool book ; for by this means we infenfibly engrave, as it were, its con- tents upon their minds : and it has been remarked that children, Inftruded in this way in the fcriptures, fel- dom forget any part of them. They have the fame advantage over thole perfoni.who have only heard the fcriptures read by a maft■:>-, that a mm who.has work- ed with the tools of a mechanical employment for Seve- ral years, has over the man who has only flood a few hours in a work (hop. and Seen the fame bufinefs carri- ed on by other people. In this d.-feuce of the ufe of the bible as a fchool book, I beg you wjuhi not think that I fuppofe the Bi- ble to contain the only revelation which God has made to man. Ibeihve in an internal revdath ;., cr a moral io8 DEFENCE OF THE USE OF THE principle, which God has implanted in the heart of every man, as the precurfor of his final dominion over the whole human race. How much this internal reve- lation accords with the external, remains yet to be ex- plored by philofophers. I am difpofed to believe, that moft of the doarines of chriftianity revealed in the bi- ble might be difcovered by a clofe examination of all the principles of aaion in man : But who is equal to fuch an enquiry ? It certainly does not fuit the natural in- dolence, or laborious employments of a great majority of mankind. The internal revelation of the gofpel may be compared to the ftraight line which is made through a wildernefs by the affiftance of a compafs, to a diftant country, which few are able to difcover, while the bible re!embles a public road to the fame country, which Is wide, plain, and eafily found, " And a highway fhall be there, and it fhall be called the way of holinefs. The way faring men, though fools, fhall not err therein." Neither let me in this place exclude the Revelation which God has made of himfelf to man in the works of creation. I am far from wifhing to leffen the in- fluence of this fpecies of Revelation upon mankind. But the knowledge of God obtained from this fourcc, is obfcure and feeble in its operation, compared with that which is derived from the bible. The vifible creation fpeaksof the Deity in hyeroglyphics, while the bible def- cribes all his attributes and perfeaions in fuch plain, BIBLE IN SCHOOLS. IOp and familiar language that " he who runs may " read." How kindly has our maker dealt with his creatures, in providing three different cords to draw them to himfelf 1 But how weakly do fome men aa, who fufpend their faith, and hopes upon only one of them ! By laying hold of them all, they would approach more fpeedily and certainly to the centre of all hap- pinefs. To the arguments I have mentioned in favour of the ufe of the bible as a fchool book, I fhall add a few rcflcaions. The prefent fafhionable pradice of rejeding the bible from our fchools, I fufped has originated with the deifts. They difcover great ingenuity in this new mode of attacking chriftianity. If they proceed in it, they will do more in half a century, in extirpating our religion, than Bolingbroke or Voltaire could have ef- feaed in a thoufand years. I am not writing to this clafs of people. I defpair of changing the opinions of any of them. I wifh only to alter the opinions and con- dua of thofe lukewarm, or fuperftitious chriftians, who have been mifled by the deifts upon this fubjea. On the ground of the good old cuflom, of ufing the bible as a fchool book, it becomes us to entrench our religion. It is the laft bulwark the deifts have left it; for they have rendered inftrudion in the principles 110 DEFENCE OF THE USE OF THE of chriftianity by the pulpit and the prefs,fo unfafhionn- ble, that little good for many years feems to have been done by either of them. The effeas of the difufe of the bible, as a fchool book have appeared of late in the negled and even contempt with which fcripture names are treated by many peo- ple. It is becaufe parents have not been early taught to know or refpea the charaaers and exploits of the old and new teftament worthies, that their names arc exchanged for thofe of the modern kings of Europe, or of the principal charaaers in novels and romances. I conceive there may be fome advantage in bearing fcrip- ture names. It may lead the perfons who bear them, to ftudy that part of the fcriptures, in which their names are mentioned, with uncommon attention, and perhaps it may excite a defire in them to poffefs the talents or vir- tues of their ancient namefakes.This remark firft occur- red to me, upon hearing a pious woman whofe name was Mary, fay, that the firft paffages of the bible, which made a ferious impreffion on her mind, were thofe in- teresting chapters and verfes in which the name of Mary is mentioned in the New Teftament. It is a Singular faa, that while the names of the kings and emperors of Rome, are now given chiefly to kjrfes and dogs, fcripture :i .mes have hhherto been con- fined only to the In-nan Species. Let the enemies and contemners of tiuhh names take c-.ts, left the names of BIBLE IN SCHOOLS. Ill more modern kings be given hereafter only to the fame animals, and left the names of the modern heroines of romances be given to animals of an inferior fpecies. It is with great pleafure, that I have obferved the bi- ble to be the on'y book read in the Sunday fchools iv; England. We have adopted the fame praaice in the Sunday Schools, lately eftabliflied in this citv. This will give our religion (humanly fpeaking) the chance pf a longer life in our country. We hear much of the perfons educated in free fchools in England, turning out well in the various walks of life. I have enquired into the caufe of it, and have Satisfied mySelf, that it is wholly to be afcribed to the general ufe of the bible in thofe fchools, for it feems the children of poor people are of too little confequence to be guarded from the fuppofed evils of reading the fcriptures in early life, or in an unconfecrated fchool houfe. However great the benefits of reading the fcriptures in lehools have been, I cannot help remarking, that thefe benefits might be much greater, did fchoolmafters take more pains to explain them to their fcholars. Did they demonftrate the divine original of the bible from the purity, confiflency, and benevolence of its doarines and precepts—did they explain the meaning of the leviiical inftitutions, and fliow their application to the numerous and fuceffive gofpel diSpenfations—did they inform their pupils that the groSs and abominable vices H2 DEFENCE OF TilL USE OF THE of the Jews were recorded only as proofs of the depravi- ty of human nature, and of the insufficiency of the law, to produce moral virtue and thereby to eftablifh the neceflity and perfedion of the gofpel fyftem—and above all, did they often enforce the difcourfes of our Saviour, as the beft rule of l':f-, and the fureft guide to hap. pinefs, how great would be the influence of our fchools upon the order and profperity of our country ! Such a mode of inftruaing children in the chriftian religion, would convey knowledge into their underfandings, and would therefore be preferable to teaching them creeds, and catechifms, which too often convey, not know- ledge, but words only, into their memories. I think I am not too fanguine in believing, that education, con- duaed in this manner, would, in the courfe of two generations, eradicate infidelity from among us, and render civil government fcarcely neceffary in our coun- try. In contemplating the political inftitutions of the United States, I lament, that we wafte fo much time and money in punifhing crimes, and take fo little pains to prevent them. We profefs to be republicans, and yet we neglea the only means of eftablifhing and per- petuating our republican forms of government, that is, the univerfal education of our youth in the principles of chriftianity, by means of the bible ; for this divine book, above all others, favours that equality among mankind, that refpea for juft laws, and all thofe fober BIBLE IN SCHOOLS. 113 and fruT; 1 virtues, which conftitute the foul of repub- licanism. I have now only to apologize for havging addrefled this letter to you, after having been affured by you, that your opinion, refpcding the ufe of the bible as a fchool book, coincided with mine. My excufe for what I have done is, that I knew you were qualified by your knowledge, and difpofed by your zeal in the caufe of truth, to correa all the errors you would dif- cover in my letter. Perhaps a further apology may be neceffary for my having prefumed to write upon a fubjea fo much above my ordinary ftudies. My ex. ufe for it is, that I thought a fingle mite from a member of a profeffion, which has been frequently charged with fcepticifm in religion, might attraa the notice of perfons who had often overlooked the more ample contributions upon this fubjea, of gentlemen orother profelfions. With great refpea, I am, dear fir, your Sincere friend. BENJAMIN RUSH. Philadelphia, March 10, 1791. Q An address to the ministers of the gospel or every denomination in the united states, upon Subjects interesting to morals. FROM the nature of your purfuits, and from your influence in fociety, I am encouraged to addrefs you upon fubjeas of the utmoft impor- tance to the prefent and future happinefs of your fel- low-citizens, as well as to the profperity of the United States. Under the great diverfityof opinions, you entertain in religion, you are all united in inculcating the ne- ceffity of morals. In this bufinefs you are neither catholics nor proteftants—churchmen nor diffenters. One fpirit aauates you all. From the fuccefs, or failure, of your exertions in the caufe of virtue, we anticipate the freedom or flavery of our country. Even the new government of the united ftates, from which fo many advantages arc expeaed, will neither reftore order, nor eftablifh juftice among us, unlefs it be ac- companied and fupported by morality, among all claffes of people. Impreffed with a fenfe of the truth of thefe obfervations, I fnall briefly point out a few of thofe praaices, which prevail in America, which ex- « ADDRESS TO THE MINISTERS, &C 1*5 ert a pernicious influence upon morals, and thereby prepare our country for mifery and flavery. I fhall begin by pointing out, in the firft place, the mifchevious effeas of fpirituos liquors upon the morals of our citizens. I. They render the temper peevifh and paflionate. They beget quarrels, and lead to profane and indecent language. They are the parents of idlenefs and ex- travagance, and the certain forerunners of poverty, and frequently of jails, wheelbarrows, and the gallows. They are likewife injurious to health and life, and kill more than the peftilence, or the fword. Our legis- latures, by premitting the ufe of them, for the fake of the paltry duty colkaed from them, aa as abfurdly as a prince would do, who fliould permit the cul- tivation of a polfonous nut, which every year car- ried off ten thoufand of his fubjeas, becaufe it yielded a revenue of thirty thoufand pounds a year. Thefe ten thoufand men would produce annually by their labour, or by paying a trifling impoft upon any one of the neceffaries of life, twenty times that fum. In order to put an end to the defolating effeas of fpirituous liquors, it will be proper for our minifters to preach againft, not the abufe of them only, but their ufe al- together. They are never neceffary but in ficknefs : and then they are better applied to the outfide, thanv to the infide of the body. no* ADDRESS TO THE -MINISTERS II Militia laws have an unrriendly influence upon morals, more efpecially where they authorife the elec- tion of the officers by the privates. The meetings of citizens for militia exercifes are generally attended with intemperance in drinking, quarrelling, profane fwearinr, and ads of violence to the property of the perfons who live near the places where thoic meetings are held. It is a miftake to fuppofe that the defence of liberty requires a well organized militia in the time of peace. The United States proved in the beginning of the late war, and France has proved fince, that armies of disciplined irrefiftable troops may be formed in a fhort time out of the peafants of a country. War has lately be- come a fimpk art. All that is pradical in it, may be acquired in a few weeks. The moft gallant exploits were performed during the late war, by men who had been but a few days in the pradice of handling fire arms. III. Fairs are a Pandora's box opened twice a year, in many of the ftates. They are wholly unneceflary, fince fhops are fo common in all the civilized parts of the country. They tempt to extravagance—gaming —druukennefs—and uncleannefs. They are proper only in defpotic ftates, where the more a people are corrupted, the more readily they fubmit to arbitrary government. IV. Law-fuits fhould be difcouraged as much as poflible. They are highly difreputable between perfons OF EVERY DENOMINATION. 117 who profefs chriftianity. The attendance upon courts expofes to idlcnefs—drinking—and gaming ; and the ufual delays of juftiee feldom fail of entailing hereditary difcord among neighbours It is with inexpreflible plea- fure that I have lately feen an account of a recom- mendation from the prefbyterian fynod of New-York and Philadelphia, to all the churches under their care, to fettle their difputes after the manner of the pri- mitive chriftians and friends, by arbitration. Bleffed event in the hiftory of mankind ! may their pradice fprcad amongall feas.of chriftians, and may it prove a prelude of that happy time foretold in the Scrip- tures, when w^r and murder fliall be no more. V. The licentiouSneSs of the prefs is a fruitful Source of the corruption of morals. Men are deterred from in- juring each other, chiefly by the fear of detection or punifliment. Now both of thehh are removed by the ufual Secrecy of a licentious prefs. Hence revenge, fc.mdal, and fdfehood are cherifhed and propagated in a community. By means of this engine of nvahec, we fometimes fije not only reputation but even life, it Self, taken away. The patriotic Mr. Cummins, ancl the amiable Dr. Hawkcfwcrth, it Is faid, both died of a broken heart, in confeqaence of being attacked by perfons, who concealed themfelves behind a licentious prefs in London. Perfonal difputes and attacks in a newfp-iper, may be compared to duels, or to the Indian mode of Sighting, according as they are carried on with, 118 ADDRF.-.s TO THE MINISTERS or without the names of their authors. They fhew in both cafes, a degree of the fame fpirit, which leads to open murder or private affaffination. But further : the caufe of liberty is greatly injured by perfonal pub- lications, which are not true, or which have no connec- tion with the public ; for who will believe a truth that is told of a bad man, who has been accuftomed to read falfehoods publifhed every day, of a good man ? Printers who vend Scurrility, would do well in con- sidering, that the publifher of Scandal, is as bad as the author of it, in the fame manner that the receiver of ftolen goods, is as bad as the thief. VI. Horfe-racing and cock-fighting are unfriendly amufements to morals, and of courfe to the liberties of our country. They occafion idlenefs, fraud, gaming, and profane Swearing, and harden thejheart againft "the feelings of humanity. Thefe vulgar fports fhould be forbidden by law in all chriftian and republican coun- tries. VII. Clubs of all kinds, where the only bufinefs of the company, is feeding (for that is true name of a gratification that is fimpiy animal) are hurtful to morals. The fociety in taverns where clubs are ufually held, is feldom fubjea to much order. It expofes men to idlenefs, prodigality, and debt. It is in private families, pnly that fociety is innocent, or improving. Here manners are ufually kept within the bounds of decen- cy by the company of females, who generally compofe OF EVERT DENOMINATION. I IQ a part of all private families ; and manners, it is well known, have an influence upon morals. VIII. Amufements of every hind, on Sundays, beget habits cf idlenefs and a love of pleaSure, which extend their influence to every dny of the week. Tn thofe manufaduring towns in England, where the Sundays arc fp^nt in idlenefs or frolikhife, little or no work is ever done on theenfuing day;hence it i» called St. Mon- day. If there were no hereafter—individuals and fo- cieties would be great guhiers, by attending public worfhip every Sunday. ReiL from labour in the houfe of God, winds up the machine of both foul and body, better than any thing elfe, and thereby invigorates it for the labours and duties of the enfuing week. Should I ever travel into a chriftian country, and wifh to know whether the laws of that country were wife and juft, and whether they were duly obeyed, the only queftion I would afk, fliould be " do the people Spend Sunday at church, or in pkafurabk entertainments at home and abroad ?" the Sunday fchools in England have been found extremely ufeful in reforming the children of poor people. Who can witnefs the praaices of Swimming, Sliding and Seating, which prevail So univer- sally on Sundays, in moft oS the cities of the United States, and hot wifh for fimilar inftitutions to refcues our poor children from deftruaion ? I Shall conclude my remarks upon this Subjea,by declaring,that I do not wifh to See any new laws made to enforce the keeping 120 ADDRESS TO THE MINISTERS of the- Sabbath. I call upon miniftcrs of the gofpel only, to increafe and extend, by their influence, the pure and ufeful fpirit of their religion- In riding through our country, we may always tell, by the ap- pearance of the people we meet with on the road, or fee at taverns, whether they enjoy the bencht of public worfhip, and of a vigilant and faithful miniftry. Where a Settlement enjovs thefe ineftimable beliings, we generally find taverns deferted on a Sunday, and a flillnefs pervading the whole neighbourhood, as if nature herfelf had ceafed from her labours, to fhare with man in paying her weekly homage to God for his creating goodnefs Thus I have briefly pointed out the principal Sour- ces of vice in our country. They are all of a public nature, and affea, in a direa manner, the general in- terefls of fociety. 1 fhall now fuggeft a few Sources of vice, which are of a domeftic nature, and which in- direaiy affea the happinefs of our country. I. The frequent or long abSence of the mafter and miftrefs from home,bydiffolving the bounds of domeftic government, proves a fruitful fource of vice among children and fervants. To prevent in fome degree, the inconveniencies which arife from the neceffary ab- Sence of the heads of a family, from home, it would be a good praaice to inveft the eldeft fon or daughter, when of a fuitable age, with the government of the family and to make them refponfible for their condua, upon OF EVERY DENOMINATION. lit the return of their parents. Government in a, family is like an ekaric rod to a houfe. Where it is wanting a family is expofed to the attacks of eveiy folly and vice, that come within the fphereof its attraaion. II. Frequent and large entertainments weaken do- meftic government, by removing children and fervants too long from the eye of authority. They moreover, expofe children and fervants to the temptation of eat- ting and drinking toexcefs. >. III. Boys and girls fhould never be admitted as fer- vants—into a genteel family. They are feldom in- ftruaed properly, by their mafters or miftrefles. Their kifure hours are moreover fpent in bad compa- ny : and all the vices which they pick up, are fpread among the children of the family, who are generally more prone to affociate with them, than with any other. Where poverty or death makes it neceffary to bind out children, they fhould be bound to thofe perfons only, who will work with them. By thefe means, they will be trained to induftry, and kept from idlenefs and vice. IV. Servants, both male and female fhould always be hired by the year, otherwife no proper government can be eftabliflied over them. The impertinence and irregular condua of fervants, arife from their holding their places by too fhort a tenure. It would be a good law to fine every perfon, who hired a fervant, without a written good charaaer, figned by his laft mafter, R T22 ADDRESS TO THE MINISTERS and counterfigned by a magiftrate. This praaicr would foon drive had fervants out of the civilized parts. of ©ur country and thereby prevent much evil both irt families and fociety. How many young men and wo-. men have carried through life the forrowful marks in their confclences or charaaers, of their being early ini- tiated into the myfteries of vice, by unprincipled fer- vants of both Sexes ! Servants that are married, Should be preferred to fuch as are fingle. Matrimony in all ranks of people leffens the temptation to vice, and fur- mfhes frefh motives to juft conduai V. Apprentices fhould always board and lodge, if pof- fible, with their mafters and miftrefles, when they are feparated from their parents. Young people feldom fall into bad company in the day time. It is in the evening, when they ceafe to be fubjea to government, that they are in the moft danger of corruption : and this danger can be obviated only by fubjeaing all their hours to the direaion of their mafters or miftrefles. I fhall conclude this addrefs, by fuggefting to minii fters of the gofpel, a plan of a new fpecies of federal government for the advancement of morals in the Uni- ted States. Let each fea appoint a reprefentative in a general convention of chriftians, whofe bufinefs fhall be, to unite in promoting the general objeas of chrif- tianity. Let no matters of faith or opinion ever be h> troduced into this convention, but let them be confider* OF EVERY DENOMINATION. 123 c/J as badges of the fovereignty of each particular fea. To prevent all difputes, let the objeas of the delibera- tions of this general convention be afcertained with the feme accuracy, that the powers of the national govern- ment are defined in the new conftitution of the United States. By this previous compaa, no encroachments will ever be made by the general government, upon the principles—difcipline—or habits of any one fea— for in the prefent ftate of human nature, the divifion qf chriftians into feas, is as neceffary to the exiftence and prefervation of chriftianity, as the divifion of man- kind into nations, and of nations into feparate families are neceflary to promote general and private happinefs. By means of fuch an inftitution, chriftian charity will be promoted, and the difcipline of each church will be ftrengthened—for I would propofe, that a difmiflion for immorality, from any one church, fliould exclude a man from every church in the ecclefiaftical union. But the advantages of this chriftian convention will not end here. It will poffefs an influence over the laws of the United States. This influence will differ from that of moft of the ecclefiaftical affociations that have exifted in the world. It will be the influence of reafon over the paffions of men. Its objeas will be morals, not principles, and the defign of it will be, not to make men zealous members of any one church, but to make them—good neighbours—good hufbands—good fathers —good mafters—good fervants—and of courfe good 124 ADDRESS TO THE MINISTERS, &C rulers and good citizens. The plan is certainly a prac- ticable one. America has taught the nations of Eu- rope by her example to be free, and it is to be hoped fhe will foon teach them to govern themfelves. Let her advance one ftep further—and teach mankind, that it is poflible for chriftians of different denominations to love each other, and to unite in the advancement of their common intcrefts. By the gradual operation of fuch natural means, the kingdoms of this world are pro- bably to become the kingdoms of the prince of righte- oufnefs and peace. Philadelphia, June 21, 1788. An inquiry into the consistency of oaths' with reason and christianity. IN difcuffing this queftion, I fhall firft mention the objeaions to oaths, which are founded io reafon; and, fecondly, the objeaions to them which are derived from the precepts and fpirit of the chrif- tian religion. I. Oaths produce an idea in the minds of men, that there are two kinds or degrees of truth; the one intend- ed for common, and the other for folemn occafions. Now, this idea is direaiy calculated to beget a want of reverence for the inferior kind of truth ; hence men are led to trifle with it in the common affairs of hu- man life. I grant that fome men will tell the truth, when urged to it by the folemn formalities of an oath, who would not otherwife do it: But this proves the great mifchief of oaths in fociety; for as men are called upon to fpeak the truth 990. times in com- mon life, to once they are called upon to fwear to it, we have exaaiy 999 falfeho'ods to one truth told by them. How extenfive, then, muft be the mifchlef of this great difproportion between truth and falfehood, in all the affairs of human life ! It is wrong to do .126 ON OATHS. any thing that fhall create an idea of two kinds of truth. There is a fcale of falfehoods ; but truth has no degrees or fubdivifions. Like its divine author, it is am eternal unchangeable unit. II. The praaice of fwearing according to human Jaws, appears to be the caufe of all profane fwear- ing, which is fo univerfal among all ranks of people in common converfation ; for if there are two modes of fpeaking the truth, it is natural for men to pre- fer that mode which the laws of our country have entitled to the firft degree of credibility : hence men fwear, when they wifh to be believed, in common con- verfation. HI. Oaths have been multiplied upon fo many trifling occafions, that they have ceafed, in a great degree, to operate with any force upon the moft folemn occafions : hence the univerfal prevalence of perjury in courts, armies and cuftom-houfes, all over the world. This faa is fo notorious in Jamaica, that a law has lately been paffed in that ifland, which re- quires a bond oi£.200, inftead of an oath, from every captain that enters his veflel in the cuftom-houfe, as a fecurity for his veracity in the manifeft of his cargo, and for the amount of his duties to the govern-i ment. Reafon and fcripture (when perfeaiy underftood) are never contrary to each other ; and revelation from Qod can never give a fanaion to that, which is (q ON OATHS. 12^ evidently abfurd, and unfriendly to the interefts of hu* man fociety. Let us proceed then to examine the bible, and here we fhall find, that oaths are as contrary to the precepts and fpirit of chriftianity as they are td found reafon. Before I mention either the precepts or the fpirit of the gofpel, which militate againft oaths, I fhall men,- tion a few of the cafes of fwearing which I find upon record in the New Teftament. I fhall firft mention1 the precedents in favour of this praaice, and them the precepts and precedents againft it. The firfil precedent I fhall produce, is taken from the example of the devil, who addreffes our Saviour in an oath, in Mark v. 7. " What have I to do with thee, JefuSj thou fon of tire moft high God ? I adjure thee by God that thou torment me not." A fecond precedent is taken from the example of the high prieft, who addreffes our Saviour in an oath in Matthew, xxvi. 63. " I adjure thee," fays he, juft before he confents to his death, " by the living God, that thou tell us whether thou be the Chrift the fon of God." It has been faid that there was no impro- priety in this mode of expreffion, otherwife our Sa- viour would have rebuked it; but let it be remem-. bered, that he flood before the tribunal of a high- prieft, as a prifoner, and Hot as a teacher ,• and hence we find he fubmits in filence to all the prophane in- fults that were offered him. In this filent fubmifli- 128 ON OATHS. on to infult, he moreover fulfilled an ancient prophefy " he is brought as a lamb to the flaughter and as a fheep before his fliearers is dumb, fo he openeth not his mouth" Ifaiah Lin. 7. Peter furnifhes a third inftance of fwearing. « And again he denied" (fays Matthew, chap. xxvi. 72.) " with an oath, I know not the man." It would feem from this account, that a bare affirma- tion was fo charaaeriftic of a disciple of Jefus Chrift, that Peter could not -ufe a more direa method to convince the maid, who charged him with being a follower of Jefus of Nazareth, that he was not a ehrijlian, than by having recourfe to the Jewifh and pagan praaice of taking an oath. Herod furnifhes a fourth inftance of fwearing, in Matthew xiv. 7, when hepromifed to give the daugh- ter of Herodias whatever fhe fhould afk of him : fhe afked for John the baptift's head in a charger: the king repented of his hafty promife ; " neverthelefs, for the oaths fake, and them which fat with him at meat, he commanded it to be given her." Here it is evident he would have violated a common pro- mife. But if common promifes are not held facrcd, and binding, there is an end of a great portion of truth in fociety, and of all the order and happinefs which arife from it. To Secure conflant and uni- verfal truth, men fhould fwear always or not at all. ON OATHS. 129 A fifth precedent Sor fwearing we find in the xix of Aas and 13th verfe. "Then certain of the vaga- bond Jews, exorcifts, took upon them to call over them which had evil Spirits, the name of the Lord Jefus, faying, we adjure thee, by Jefus whom Paul preacheth. And the man in whom the evil fpirit was, leaped on them, and overcame them; fo that they fled out of the houfe naked and wounded." The laft precedent for fwearing that I fhall men- tion, is the one related in Aas xxiii. 21ft. It con- tains an account of forty men who had bound them- felves, by an oath, not to eat or drink, until they had killed St. Paul. It would feem that this banditti knew each other perfeaiy, and that they would not aa together under the form of a common obligation. The occafion indeed, feems to require an oath. It was an affociation to commit murder. I am difpof- ed to fufpea that oaths were introduced originally to compel men to do things that were contrary to juftice, or to their confciences. In mentioning the precepts and precedents that are to be found in the new teftament againft fwear- ing, the following ftriking paffage, taken from Matthew v. verfcs 34, 35, 36, 37, fhould alone determine the queftion. " Swear not at all, neither by heaven, for it is God's throne ; nor by the earth, for it is his footftool ; nor by Jerufakm, for it is the city of the S 13© ON OATHS. great king. Neither fhalt thou fwear by thy head, becaufe thou canft not make one hair white or black But let your communication be yea, yea; nay, nay; for whatfoever is more than thefe, cometh of evil." The words of the apoftle James, are equally pointed againft fwearing, chap. v. 12. " But above all things my brethren, fwear not, neither by heaven, neither by the earth, neither by any other oath ; but let your yea, be yea, and your nay, nay ; left ye fall into condemna- tion." I know, thefe paffages are faid to be levelled only againft profane fwearing in common converfation, but this will appear improbable when we reflea, thaf our Saviour's words were addreffed exclufively to his dif- ciples, and that the eplftle of St. James, from whence the prohibition of fwearing is taken, is direaed to a number of pious converts to chriftianity, none of whom, any more than the difciples of our Lord, could be fufpeaed of profane fwearing in common conver- fation. Both paffages equally condemn oaths of every kind, and demonftrate their contrariety to the gofpel difpenfation. There is a peculiar meaning in the reafon which is given for the prohibition of fwearing in the pre- cept, of our Saviour, viz. that any thing more than a bare affirmation, cometh of evil. Yes, it came originally from the univerfal prevalance of falfehood in fociety ; but the chriftian religion, by opening new Sources of > ON QATHS. 1JI moral and religious obligation, and by difcovering mora fully the beauty and rewards of truth and deformity, and future punifhment of falfehood, has rendered the obligation of oaths wholly unneceffary. They com- ported with the feeble difcoveries of the Jewifh, and the numerous corruptions of the pagan religions; but they are unneceffary under that full and clear manifes- tation of the divine will which is contained in the gofpel. Gaefar's wife fhould not be fufpeaed.—With how much more propriety fhould this be faid of the veracity of a chriftian, than of the chaftity of the wife of a heathen emperor, Every time a chriftian fwears, he expofes the purity and truth of his religion to fufpiciou. " As for you, Petrarch, your word is fufficient," Slid the cardinal Colonna, in an enquiry into the caufe of a riot that had happened in his fami- ly, while that celebrated poet was a member of it; and in which he exaaed an oath from every ether member of his family, not excepting his own brother, the bifliop of Luna. The fame addrefs fhould be made to every chriftian, when he is called upon to declare the truth. tc You believe in a future ftate of rewards and punifhment—you profefs to be the follower of that Being who has inculcated a regard for truth, under the awful confideration of his omnifcience, and who has emphatically ftyled himfelf the truth." Tour word, therefore, is fufific'unt. A nobleman is permitted, by the laws of England, to declare the truth upon his honour. The profeffion 13* ON OATHS. of chriftianity is declared in lcripturc to be an high calling, and chriftians are faid to be priefis and kings. Strange ! that perfons of fuch high rank, fliould be treated with lefs refpea than Englifh noblemen ; and ftill more ftrange! that perfons poflefling thefe auguft titles, fhould betray their illuftrious birth and dignity, by conforming to a praaice which tends fo much to invalidate the truth and excellency of their re- ligion. It is very remarkable, that in all the accounts we have of the intercourfe of our Saviour with his dif- ciples, and of their fubfequent intercourfe with, each other, there is no mention made of a fingle oath being taken by either of them. Perhaps there never was an event in which the higheft degrees of evidence were more neceffary, than they were to eftablifh the truth of the refurreaion of our Saviour, as on the truth of this miracle depen- ded the credibility of the chriftian religion. But in the. eftablifhment of the truth of this great event, no oath is taken, or required. The witnefles of it fimply relate what they faw, and are believed by all the difciples except one, who ftill remembered too well the prohibition of his mafter, " fwear not at all," to afk for an oath to remove his unbelief. It is worthy of notice likewife, that no prepofterous oath of office is required of the difciples when they affume the apoftolic charaaer, and are Sent forth to ON OATHS. I33 preach the gofpel to all nations. How unlike the fpirit of the gofpel are thofe human conftitutions and laws, which require oaths of fidelity, every year ! and which appear to be founded in the abfurd idea that men are at all times the guardians of their own virtue. There can be no doubt of chriftians having uniform- ly refuftd to take an oath in the firft ages of the church : nor did they conform to this pagan cuftom, till after chriftianity was corrupted by a mixture with many other parts of the pagan and Jewifh religions. There are two arguments in favour of oaths which aie derived from the new teftament, and which remain to be refuted.— ift St. Paul ufes feveral ex- preffions in his epiftks which amount to oaths, and even declares " an oath to be the end of ftrife." It was the charaaer of St. Paul, that he became all things to all men. He circumcifed as well as baptized Jews, and he proves the truth of revelation by a quota- tion from a heathen poet. Oaths were a part of the Jewifh and pagan inftitutions—and, like feveral other ceremonies, for fome time, continued to retain a ftrong hold of the prejudices of the new converts to chriftianity. But the above words of the Apoftle, which have been urged in favor of fwearing, are by no means intended to apply to common life. They have a retrofpea to the promife made to Abraham of the coming of the Meffiah, and were defigned to fhew the »' f34 ON OATHS. certainty of that event In a language which was accom- modated to the idea of the Jewifh nation. 2d. It has beeen faid, that the great Jehovah frequently fwears, both in the old and new teftament, and that the angel who is to found the laft trumpet will "fwear that time fhall be no more." Every expreffi- on of this kind fhould be confidered as an accomodation to Jewifh and pagan cuftoms, in order to render the truths of revelation more intelligible and acceptable, The Supreme Being, for the fame reafons, often aflumes to himfelf the violent paffions, and even the features and fenfes of men ; and yet who can fuppofe it proper to afcribe either of them to a Being, one of whofe ptrfeaions confifts in his exifting as a pure unchangeable fpirit. If oaths are contrary to reafon, and have a pernicious Influence upon morals and the order of fociety ; and above all, if they are contrary to the precepts and fpirit of the gofpel; it becomes legislators and minis- ters of the gofpel to confider how far they are refponfi- ble for all the falfehood, profane fwearing and perjury that exift in Society. It is in the power of legifjators to abolifh oaths, by expunging them from our laws; snd it is in the power of minifters of the gofpel, by their influence and example, to render truth fo Simple »nd obligatory, that human governments fliall be afhamed to afk any other mode of declaring it, from Chriftians, than by a bare affirmation. ON OATHS. 13$ The friends of virtue and freedom have beheld, with great pleafure, a new conftitution eftabliflied in the United States, whofe objeas axe peace, union and jufiice. It will be in the power of the firft congrefs that fhall aa under this conftitution, to fet the world an example of enlightened policy, by framing laws that fhall command obedience without the abfurd and improper obligation of oaths. By this means they will add the reftoration and eftablifhment of truth, to the great and valuable objeas of the conftitution that have been mentioned. Jan. 20 1789. An enquiry into the effects of public pu- nishments UPON CRIMINAL^, AND UPON SOCIETY. Read in the society for promoting politi- cal ENQUIRIES, CON.VENlD AT THE HOUSE OF Benjamin Franklin, escn, in Philadelphia, March pth, 1787. " Accuftomed to look up to thofe nations from whom we have derived " our origin, for our laws, onropinions, and our manners j we have re- " tained, with undiftinguifhing reverence, their errors, with their im- " provements; have blend d, with our public inltitutions, the policy of <{ diffimilar countries ; and have grafted, on an infant commonwealth, " the manners of ancient and corrup:e J monarchies'." Preface To THE LAWj or THE SOCIETY FOR POLITICAL KNQJ,IRIES. THE defign of punifhment is faid to be, ift, to reform the perfon who fuffers it ; 2dly, to prevent the perpetration of crimes, by exciting ter- ror in the minds of fpeaators; and, 3dly, to remove thofe perfons from fociety, who have manifefted, by their tempers and crimes, that they are unfit to live in it. From the firft inftitution of governments, in every age and country (with but a few exceptions) legifia- tors have thought that punifhments fliould be public, in order to anfwer the two firft of thefe intentions. It will require fome fortitude to combat opinions that have been fanaified by fuch long and general preju- AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS, &C- 137 dice, and fupported by univerfal praaice. But truth in government, as well; as in philofophy, is of pro- greffive growth. As in philofophy, we often arrive at truth by rejeaing the evidence of our fenfes; fo in government, we often arrive at it, after divorcing our frrft thoughts. Reafon, though depofed and op- preffed, is the only juft fovereign of the human mind. Difcoveries, it is true, have been made by accident; but they have derived their credit and ufefulnefs only from their according with the decifions of reafon. In medicine, above every other branch of philofophy, we perceiye many inftances of the want of relation between the apparent caufe and effea. Who, by reafoning a priori, would fuppofe, that the hot regimen was not preferable to the cold, in the treatment of the fmall-pox ? But experience teaches us, that this is not the cafe. Caufe and eftha appear to be rela- ted in philofophy, like the objeas of chemiftry. Simi- lar bodies often repel each other, while bodies that are diffimilar in figure, weight and quality, often unite together with impetuofity. "With our prefent imperfca degrees of knowledge of the properties of bodies, we can difcover thefe chemical relations only by experiment. The fame may be faid of the connec- tion between caufe and effeB, in many parts of govern- ment. This conneaion often accords with reafon, while it is repugnant to our fenfes—and when this is not the cafe, from our inability to perceive it, it forces T 138 AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OP our confent from the teftimony of experience and ob- fervation. It has been remarked, that the profeflion of arms owes its prefent rank, r,s a fcience, to its having been refcued, fince the revival of letters, from the hands of mere foldiers, and cultivated by men acquainted with other branches of literature. The reafon of this is plain. Truth is an unit. It is the fame thing in war—philo- fophy—medicine—morals—religion and government j. and In proportion as we arrive at it in one fcience, we fhall difcover it in others. After this apology, for diflenting from the eftablifli- ed opinions and praaice, upon the fubjea of public punifliments, I fhall take the liberty of declaring, that the great ends propofed, are not to be obtained by them ; and that, on the contrary, all public punifhments tend to make bad men worfe, and to increafe crimes, by their influence upon fociety. I. The reformation of a criminal can never be ef- feaed by a public punifhment, for the following rea- fons. I ft. As it is always conneaed with infamy, it de- ftroys in him the fenfe of fhame, which is one of the ftrongeft out-pofts of virtue. 2dly. It is generally of fuch fhort duration, as to produce none of thofe changes in body or mind, which are abfolutely neceflary to reform obftinate habits of vice. PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 139 3«ily- Experience proves, that public punifhments have increafed propenfities to crimes. A man who has loft his charaaer at a whipping-poft, has nothing va- luable left to lofe in fociety. Pain has begotten infen- fibility to the whip ; and infamy to fhame. Added to his old habits of vice, he probably feels a fpirit of re- venge againft the whole community, whofe laws have infliaed his punifhment upon him ; and hence he is fti- mulated to add to the number and enormity of his out- rages upon fociety. The long duration of the punifh- ment, when public, by increafing its infamy, ferves on- ly to increafe the evils that have been mentioned. The criminals, who were fentenced to work in the prefence of the City of London, upon the Thames, during the late war, were prepared by it, for the perpetration of every crime, as foon as they were fet at liberty from their confinement. I proceed, II. To fhew, that public punifhments, fo far from preventing crimes by the terror they excite in the minds of fpeaators, are direaiy calculated to produce them. All men, when they fiiffer, difcover either fortitude, infenfibility, or diftrefs. Let us inquire into the effeas of each of thefe upon the minds of fpeaators. 1 ft. Fortitude is a virtue, that felzes fo forcible upon our efteem, that wherever we fee It, it never fails to weaken, or to obliterate, our deteftation of the crimes with which it is conneaed in criminals. " I call upon 14° AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF " you,' faid mzjor Andre, at the place of execution to his attendants " to bear witnefs, gentlemen, that " I die like a brave man." The effea of this fpeech upon the American army is well known. The fpy was loft in the hero: and indignation, every where, gave way to admiration and praife. But this is not all: the admiration, which fortitude, under fuffering, excites, has in fome inftances excited envy. In Den- mark uncommon pains are taken to prepare criminals for death, by the converfation and inftruaions of the clergy. After this, they are conduaed to the place of execution with uncommon pomp and fokrnnity. The criminals, under thefe circumftances, fuffer death with meeknefs—piety—and fometimes with dignity. Thefe effeas of this, I have been well informed have been, in feveral inftances, to induce deluded people to feign or confefs crimes, which they had never com- mitted, on purpofe to fecure to themfelves a cenfpi- cuous death, and a certain entrance into happinefs. There is fomething in the prefence of a number of fpeaators, which is calculated to excite and ftrength7 en fortitude in a fufferer. " It is not fo difficult a thing," faid Lewis XIV. to his courtiers, who flood round his death-bed, " to die, as I expea.d." " No " wonder," fays Voltaire, who relates this anecdote, " for all men die with fortitude, who die in company." The bravery of foldiers is derived in a great degree, from the operation of this principle in the human mind- PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 14I adly. If criminals difcover infenfibility under their punifhments, the effea of it muft be ftill more fatal upon fociety. It removes, inftead of exciting terror. In fome inftances, I conceive it may excite a defire in the minds of perfons whom debt or fecret guilt has made miferable, to feek an end of their diftrefles in the fame enviable apathy to evil. Should this infen- fibility be conneaed with chearfulnefs, which is fome- times the cafe, it muft produce ftill more unfriendly effeas upon fociety. But terrible muft be the con- fcquence of this infenfibility and chearfulnefs, if they fliould lead criminals to retaliate upon the inhuman curiofity of fpeaators, by profane or indecent infults or converfation. 3dly. The effeas of diftrefs in criminals, though lefs obvious are not lefs injurious to fociety, than forti- tude or infenfibility. By an immutable law of our nature, diftrefs of all kinds, when feen, produces fympa- thy, and a difpofition to relieve it. This fympathy, in generous minds, is not leffened by the diftrefs being the offspring of crimes : on the contrary, even the crimes themfelves are often palliated by the refkaion that they were the unfortunate confequences of extreme poverty—of fcducing company—or of the want of a virtuous education, from the.lofs or negligence of parents in early life. Now, as the diftrefs which the criminals fuffer, is the effea of a law of the ftate which cannot be refifted, the fympathy of the fpec tator is rendered abortive, and returns empty to the *4* AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF bofom in which it was awakened. Let us briefly examine the confequences of this abortive fympathy in fociety. It will not be neceffary here to dwell upon all the advantages of this principle in human nature. It will be fufficient to obferve, that it is the vicegerent of the divine benevolence in our world. It is intended to bind up all the wotmds which fin and death have made among mankind. It has foun- ded hofpitals—ereaed charity-fchools—and conneaed the extremes of happinefs and mifery together in every part of the globe. Above all, fenfibility is the centi- nel of the moral faculty. It decides upon the quality of the aaions before they reach that divine principle of the foul. It is of itfelf, to ufe the words of an elegant female poet*, «' A hafty moral—a fudden fenfe of right." If fuch are the advantages of fenfibility, now what muft be the confequences to fociety, of extirpating or weakening it in the human breaft ? But public punifh- ments are calculated to produce this effea. To prove this, I muft borrow an analogy from the animal ceconomy.—The fenfibility of the human body is faid to be aBive and pqffive. The firft is conneaed with motion and fenfation ; the fecond only with fenfation, The firft is increafed, the fecond is diminiflicd, by the repetition of imprpffions. The fame phenomena take place in the human mind. Senfibility here is both aBive zndpajftve. Paffive fenfibility islefleiu-d, while that which - Mifj Moore. PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 14-5 is aaive is increafed by habit. The paffive fenfibility of a phyfician, to the diftrefs of his patients, is al- ways, diminifhed, but his aaive fenfibility is always increafed by time ; hence we find young phyficians feel moft— but old phyficians, with lefs feeling, dif- cover moft fympathy with their patients. If fuch be the conftitution of our mihds, then the effeas, of diftrefs upon them will be, not only to def- troy paffive, but to eradicate aaive fenfibility from them. The principle of fympathy, after being often oppofed by the law of the ftate, which forbids it to relieve the diftrefs it commiferates, will ceafe to aa altogether ; and, from this defea of aaion, and the habit arifing from it, will foon lofe its place in the human breaft. Mifery of every kind will then be contemplated without emotion or fympathy.—Th« widow and the orphan—the naked—the fick, and the prifoner, will have no avenue to our fervices or our charity—and what is worfe than all, when the cen. tlnel of our moral faculty is removed, there is no- thing to guard the mind from the inroads of every pofitive vice. I pafs over the influence of this fympathy in its firft operation upon the government of the ftate. While we pity, we fecretly condemn the law which inflia$ the punifhment: hence, arifes a want of refpea for was in general, and a more feeble union of the, great ties of government. *44 AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS I have only to add, upon this part of my fubjea, that the pernicious effeas, of fympathy, where it docs not terminate in aaion, are happily provided againft by the Jewifh law. Hence'we read of a prohibition againft it wdiere perfons fuffer for certain crimes. To fpeaators, the voice of heaven, under fuch ciraumftan- ces, is, " thine eye fliall not pity him." 4thly. But it is poflible the charaaers cr conduft of criminals may be fuch, as to excite indignation or contempt inftead of pity, in the minds of fpec- tators. Let us there enquire, briefly, into the effeas of thefe paffions upon the human mind. Every body acknowledges our obligations to univerfal benevo- lence ; but thefe cannot be fulfilled, unlefs we love the whole human race, however diverfifled they may be by weaknefs or crimes. The indignation or con- tempt which is felt for this unhappy part of the great family of mankind, muft neceffarily extinguifh a large; portion of this univerfal love. Nor is this all the men, or perhaps the women whofe perfons we deteft, poffefs fouls and bodies compofed of the fame materials as thofe of our friends and relations. They are bone of their bone; and were originally fafhioned with the fame fpirits. What, then, muft be the confequence of a familiarity with fuch objeas of hcrrcr, upon our attachments and duties to our fnends and conneaions, or to the reft of mankind ? If a fpeaator fliould give himfelf time to reflea upon fuch a fiYht of human depravity, he would naturally PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. I45 recoil from the embraces of friendfhip, and the endear- ments of domeftic life, and perhaps fay with an unfor- tunate great man, after having experienced an inftance of treachery in a friend, " Oh! that I were a dog, " that I might not call man my brother." The Jewifh law forbade more than nine and thirty lafhcs, left the fufferer fliould afterwards become '• vile" in the fight of fpeaators. It is the prerogative of God alone, to contemplate the vices of bad men, without withdrawing from them the fupport of his benevolence. Hence we find, when he appeared in the world, in the perfon of his Son, he did not exclude criminals from the benefits of his goodnefs. He difmiffed a women caught in the perpetration of a crime, which was capital by the Jewifh law, with a friendly admoni- tion : and he opened the gates of paradife to a dying thief. 5thly. But let us fuppofe, that criminals are viewed without fympathy—indignation —or contempt.—This will be the cafe, either when the fpeaators are them- felves hardened with vice, or when they are too young, or too ignorant, to connea the ideas of crimes and punifhments together. Here, then, a new fource of injury arifes from the public nature of punifhments. Every portion of them will appear, to fpeaators of this defcription, to be mere arbitrary aas of cruelty: hence will arife a difpofition to exercife the fame arbitrary cruelty over the feelings and lives of their fellow creatures. To fee blows, cr a halter, impofed U 146 AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF in cold blood upon a criminal, whofe paffive behaviour, operating with the ignorance of the fpeaa- tors, indicates innocence more than vice, cannot fail of removing the natural obftacles to violence and mur- der in the human mind. 6thly. Public punifhments make many crimes known to perfons who would otherwife have pafled through life in a total ignorance of them. They moreover produce fuch a familiarity, in the minds of fpeaators, with the crimes for which they are infliaed, that, in fome inftances, they have been known to excite a propenfity for them. It has been remarked, that a certain immorality has always kept pace with pub- lic admonitions in the churches in the eaftern ftates. In proportion as this branch of ecclefiaftical difcipline has declined, fewer children have been born out of wedlock. 7thly. Ignominy is univerfally acknowledged to be a worfe punifhment than death. Let it not be fup- pofed, from this circumftance, that it operates more than the fear of death in preventing crimes. On the contrary, like the indifcriminate punifhment of death, it not only confounds and levels all crimes, but by increafing the difproportion between crimes and punifh- ments, it creates a hatred of all law and govern- ment ; and thus difpofes to the perpetration of every crime. Laws can only be refpeaed and obeyed, while they bear an exaa proportion to crimes.—The law PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 14; which punifhes 'the fhooting of a fwan with death, in England, has produced a thoufand murders. Nor is this all the mifchievous influence, which the punifh- ment of ignominy has upon fociety. While murder is puniflied with death, the man who robs on the high-way, or breaks open a houfe, muft want the common feelings and principles which belong to human nature, if he does not add murder to theft, in order to fcreen himfelf, if he fhould be deteaed, from that punifhment which is acknowledged to be more terrible than death. It would feem ftrange, that ignominy fhould ever have been adopted, as a milder punifhment than death, did we not know that the human mind feldom arrives at truth upon any fubjea, till it has firft reached the extremity of error. 8thly. But may not the benefit derived to fociety, by employing criminals to repair public roads, or to clean ftreets, overbalance the evils that have been mentioned ? I anfwer, by no means. On the contra- ry, befides operating in one, or in all the ways that have been defcribed, the praaice of employing criminals in public labour, will render labour of every kind difre- putable, more efpecially that fpecies of it, which has for its objeas the convenience or improvement of the ftate. It is a well-known faa, that white men foon decline labour in the Weft Indies, and in the fouthern ftates, only becaufe the agriculture, and mechanical 14^ AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF employments of thofe countries, are carried on chiefly by negro flaves. But I objca further to the employ. ment of criminals on the high-ways and ftreets, from the idlenefs it will create, by alluring fpeaators from their bufinefs, and thereby depriving the ftate of great- er benefits from the induftry of its citizens, than it can 1 ever derive from the labour of criminals. The hiftory of public punifhments, in every age and country, is full of faas, which fupport every principle that has been advanced. What has been the operation of the feventy thoufand executions, that have taken place in Great Britain from the year 1688, to the pre- fent day, upon the morals and manners of the inhabi- tants of that ifland ? Has not every prifon-door that has been opened, to condua criminals to public fhame and punifhment, unlocked, at the fame time, the bars of moral obligation upon the minds often times the num- ber of people ? How often do we find pockets picked under a gallows, and highway robberies committed in fight of a gibbet ? From whence arofe the confpira- ciei,, with aflaflinations and polfonings, which prevailed in the decline of the Roman empire ? Were they not favoured by the public executions of the amphitheatre ? It is therefore to the combined operation of indolence, prejudice, ignorance and the defea of culture of the human heart, alone, that we are to afcribe the conti- nuance of public punifhments, after fuch long andmul- tiplied experience of their inefficacy to reform bad men, or to prevent the commiflion of crimes. PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 149 III. Let it not be fuppofed, from any thing that has been faid, that I wifh to abolifh punifhments. Far from it: I wifli only to change the place and manner of infliaing them, fo as to render them effeaual for the reformation of criminals, and beneficial to fociety. Before I propofe a plan for this purpofe, I beg leave to deliver the following general axioms : ift. The human mind is difpofed to exaggerate every thing that is removed from it, by time or place. 2dly. It- is equally difpofed to enquire after, and to magnify fuch things as are facred. 3dly. It always afcribes the extremes in qualities, to'things that are unknown ; and an excefs in duration, to indefinite time. 4thly. Certain and definite evil, by being long con- templated, ceafes to be dreaded or avoided. A fol- dier foon lofes, from habit the fear of death in battle ; but retains, in common with other people, the terror of death from ficknefs or drowning. cthly. An attachment to kindred and fociety Is one of the ftrongeft feelings of the human heart. A fepe- paration from them, therefore has ever been confider- ed as one of the fevereft punifliments that can be in- fliaed upon man. I>0 • AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF <5thly. Perfonal liberty is fo dear to all men, that the lofs of it, for an indefinite time, is a punifli- ment fo fevere, that death has often been preferred to it. Thefe axioms being admitted (for they cannot be controverted) I fhall proceed next to apply them, by fuggefting a plan for the punifhment of crimes, which, I flatter myfelf, will anfwer ail the ends that have been propofed by them. r. Let a large houfe be ereaed in a convenient part of the ftate. Let it be divided into a number of apart- ments, referving one large room for public worfhip. Let cells be provided for the folitavy confinement of fuch perfons as are of a refraaory temper. Let the houfe be fupplied with the materials, and inftruments for carrying on fuch manufaaures as can be con- duaed with the Ieaft inftruaion, or previous know- ledge. Let a garden t adjoin this houfe, in which the culprits may occafionally work, and walk. Thfs fpot will have a beneficial effea not only upon health, but morale, for it will lead them to a familiarity with thofe pure and natural objeas which are calculated to renew the conneaion of fallen man with his creator. Let the name of this houfe convey an idea of its bene- volent and falutary defign, but let it by no means be cal- led a prifon, or by. ohy other name that is affociated with what is infamous in the opinion of mankind. Let the direaion of this inftitution be committed tn PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. IJI perfons of eftabliflied charaaers for probity, difcretion and humanity, who fliall be amenable at all times to the legiflature, or courts of the ftate. 2dly. Let the various kinds of punifhment, that are to be infliaed en crimes, be defined and fixed by law. But let no notice be taken, in the law, of the punifh- ment that awaits any particular crime. By thefe means? we fliall prevent the mind from accuftoming itfelf to the view of thefe punifhmeats, fo as to deftroy their terror by habit. The indifference and levity with which fome men fuffer the punifhment of hanging, is often occafioned by an infenfibility which is contrac- ted by the frequent anticipation of it, or by the appear- ance of the gallows fuggefting the remembrance of fcenes of criminal feftivity, in which it was the fubjea of humour or ridicule. Befides, punifhments fhould always be varied in degree, according to the temper of criminals, or the progrefs of their reformation. 3dly. Let the duration of punifhments, for all crimes be limitted : but let this limitation be unknown I conceive this fecret to be of the utmoft importance ln reforming criminals, and preventing crimes. The imagination, when agitated with uncertainty, will fel- dom fail of conneaing *the longeft duration of pu- nifliment, with the fmalkft crime. I cannot conceive any think more calculated to dif- fufe terror through a community, and th.ereby to 152 AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF prevent crimes, than the combination of the three cir. cumftances that have been mentioned in punifliments- Children will prefs upon the evening fire In liftening to the tales that will be fpread from this abode of mifery. Superftition will add to its horrors : and ro- mance will find in it ample materials for fiaion, which cannot fail of increafing the terror of its punifhments, Let it not be objeaed, that the terror produced by the hiftory of thefe fecret punifhments, will ope- rate like the abortive fympathy I have defcribed: ABive fympathy can be fully excited only through the avenues of the eyes and the ears. Befides, the recolkaion that the only defign of punifhment is the reformation of the criminal will fufpend the aaion of fympathy altogether. We liften with paknefs to the hiftory of a tedious and painful operation in fur_ gery, without a wifli to arreft the hand of the ope- rator. Our fympathy, which in this cafe is of the paffive kind, is mixed with pleafure, when we are affured, that there is a certainty of the operation being the means of faving the life of the fufferer. Nor let the expence of ereaing and fupporting a houfe of repentance, for the purpofes that have been mentioned, deter us from the undertaking. It would be eafy to demonftrate, that it will not coft one fourth as much as the maintenance of the numerous jails that are now neceffary in every well regulated PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. I53 ' ftate. But why fhould receptacles be provided and fupported at an immenfe expenfe, in every country, for the relief of perfons affliaed with bodily difor- ders, and an objeaion be made to providing a place for the cure of the difeafes of the mind ? The nature—degrees—and duration of the punifh- ments, fhould all be determined beyond a certain de- gree, by a court properly conftituted for that purpofe, and whofe bufinefs it fhould be to vifit the receptacle for criminals once or twice a year. I am aware of the prejudices of freemen, againft en- trusting power to a difcretionary court. But let it be remembered, that no power is committed to this court, but what is poflefTed by the different courts of jufiice in all free countries ; nor fo much as is now wifely and neceffarily poflefTed by the fupreme and inferior courts, in the execution of the penal laws of Pennfylvania. I fhall fpend no time in defending the confiftency of pri- vate punifhments, with a fafe and free government. Truth, upon this fubjea, cannot be divided. If pub- lic punifhments are injurious to criminals and to foci- ety, it follows that crimes fhould be punifhed in private, or not punifhed at all. There is no alternative. The oppofition to private punifhments, therefore is founded altogether in prejudice, or in ignorance of the true principles of liberty. X 154 AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF The fafety and advantages of private punifhments, will appear, further, when I add, that the beft governed families and fchools are thofe, in which the faults of fervants and children are rebuked privately, and where confinement and folitude are preferred for correaion, to the ufe of the rod. In order to render thefe punifhments effc&ual, they fhould be accommodated to the conftitutions and tempers of the criminals, and the peculiar nature of their crimes. Peculiar attention fhould be paid, like- wife, in the nature, degrees, and duration of punifh- ments, to crimes, as they arife from paffion, habit or temptation. The punifhments, fhould confift of bodily pain, la- bour, watchfulnefs, folitude, and filence. They fhould all be joined with cleanlinefs and a fimple diet. To afcertain the nature, degrees, and duration of the bodily pain, will require fome knowledge of the principles of fenfation, and of the fympathies which occur in the nervous fyftem. The labour fhould be fo regula- ted and direaed, as to be profitable to the ftate. Befides employing criminals in laborious and ufeful manufac- tures, they may be compelled to derive all their fub- fiftance from a farm and a garden, cultivated by their own hands, adjoining the place of their confine- ment. Thefe punifhments may be ufed feparately, or more or lefs combined, accordin^to the nature of the crimes, PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 155 or according to the variations of the conftitution and temper of the criminals. In the application of them, the utmoft poflible advantages fhould be taken of the laws of the aflbciation of ideas, of habit, and of imi- tation. To render thefe phyfical remedies more effeaual they fhould be accompanied by regular inftruaion in the principles and obligations of religion, by perfons appointed for that purpofe. Thus far I am fupported, in the application of the remedies I have mentioned, for the cure of crimes, by the faas contained in Mr. Howard's hiftory of prifons, and by other obfervations. It remains yet to prefcribe the fpecific punifhment that is proper for each fpecific crime. Here my fubjea begins to opprefs me. I have no more doubt of every crime having its cure in moral and phyfical influence, than I have of the efficacy of the Peruvian bark in curing the in- termitting fever. The only difficulty is, to find out the proper remedy or remedies for particular vices. Mr Dufriche de Valaye, in his elaborate treatife upon penal laws, has performed the office of a pioneer upon this difficult fubjea. He has divided crimes into claf- fes •, and has affixed punifhments to each of them, in a number of ingenious tables. Some of the connec- tions he has eftabliflied, between crimes and punifh- ments, appear to be juft. But many of his punifliments are contrary to trte firft principks of aaion in man; I5°" AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF and all of them are, *in my opinion, improper, as far as he orders them to be infliaed in the eye of the public. His attempt, however, is laudable, ancl deferves the praife of every friend to mankind. If the invention of a machine for facilitating labour, has been repaid with the gratitude of a country, how much more will that man deferve, who fhall invent the moft fpeedy and effeaual methods of reftoring the vi- cious part of mankind to virtue and happinefs, and of extirpating a portion of vice from the world ? Happy condition of human affairs ! when humanity, philo- fophy and chriftianity, fliall unite their influence to teach men, that they are brethren; and to prevent their preying any longer upon each other ! Happy citizens of the United States, whofe governments permit them to adopt every difcovery in the moral or intelkaual world, that leads to thefe benevolent purpofes ! Let it not be objeaed, that it will be impoflible for men, who have expiated their offences by the mode of punifhment that has been propofed, to recover their former conneaions with fociety. This objeaion arifes from an unfortunate aflbciation of ideas. The infamy of criminals is derived, not fo much from the remem- brance of their crimes, as from the recolkaion of the ignominy of their punifliments. Crimes produce a ftain, which may be wafhed out by reformation, and which frequently wears away by time ; but public PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 157 punifhments leave fears which disfigure the whole charaaer; and hence perfons, who have fuffered them, are ever afterwards viewed with horror or aver- fion. If crimes were expiated by private difcipline, and fucceeded by reformation, criminals would probably fuffer* no more in charaaer from them, than men fuffer in their reputation or ufefulnefs from the punifh- ments they have undergone when boys at fchool. I am fo perfeaiy fatisfied of the truth of this opinion, that methinks I already hear the inhabitants of our vil- lages and townfhips counting the years that fhall com- plete the reformation of one of their citizens. I behold them running to meet him on the day of his deliverance. His friends and family bathe his cheeks with tears of joy ; and the univerfal fhout of the neigbourhood is, " This our brother was loft, and is found—was dead and is alive." It has long been a defideratum in government, that there fhould exift in it no pardoning power, fince the certainty of punifliment operates fo much more than its feverity, or infamy, in preventing crimes. But where punifliments are exceffive in degree, or infamous from being public, a pardoning power is abfolutely necef- fary. Remove their feverity and public infamy, and a pardoning power ceafes to be neceffary in a code of criminal jurifprudence. Nay, further—it is fuch a defea in penal laws, as in fome meafure defeats every invention to prevent crimes, or to cure habits of vice. *58 AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF If punifhments were moderate, j uft, and private, they would exalt the feelings of public jufiice and benevo- lence fo far above the emotions of humanity in wit- neffes, juries and judges, that they would forget to conceal, or to palliate crimes ; and the certainty of pu- nifhment, by extinguifhing all hope of pardon in the criminal, would lead him to connea the beginning of his repentance with the laft words of his fentcnce of condemnation. To obtain this great and falutary end, there fhould exift certain portions of punifhment, both in duration and degree, which fhould be placed by law beyond the power of the difcretionary court before mentioned, to fhorten or mitigate. I have faid nothing upon the manner of in- fliaing death as a punifhment for crimes, becaufe I confider it as an improper punifliment for any crime. Even murder itfelf is propagated by the punifliment of death for murder. Of this we have a remarkable proof in Italy. The duke of Tufcany foon after the publication of the marquis of Beccaria's excellent treatife upon this fubjea, abolifhed death as a punifh- ment for murder. A gentleman, who refided five years at Pifa, informed me, that only five murders had been perpetrated in his dominions in twenty years. The fame gentleman added, that after his refidence in Tufcany, he fpent three months in Rome, where death is ftill the punifhment of murder, and where executions,according to Dr. Moore,are condua- ed with peculiar circumftances of public parade. Du- PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. I59 ring this fhort period, there were fixty murders com- mitted in the precinas of that city. It is remarkable, the manner^, principles, and religion, of the inhabitants of Tufcany and Rome, are exaaiy the fame. The abolition of death alone, as a punifhment for murder, produced this difference in the moral charaaer of the two nations. I fufpea the attachment to death, as a punifh- ment for murder, in minds otherwife enlightened, upon the fubjea of capital punifhments, arifes from a falfe interpretation of a paffage contained in the old teftament, and that is, " he that fheds the blood of man, by man fhall his blood be fhed." This has been fuppofed to imply that blood could only be ex- piated by blood. But I am difpofed to believe, with a late commentator* upon this text of fcripture, that it is rather a prediBion than a law. The language of it is fimply, that fuch will be the depravity and folly of man, that murder, in every age, fhall beget murder. Laws, therefore, which inflia death for murder, are, in my opinion, as unchriftian as thofe which juflify or tolerate revenge ; for the obligations of chriftianity upon individuals, to promote repentance, to forgive injuries, and to difcharge the duties of univerfal benevolence, are equally binding upon ftates. The power over human life, is the fok prero- gative of him who gave it. Human laws, therefore, • The reverend Mr. William Turner, in the fecond vol. of Merr^u. • fthe Litenry and PHlofoph^al Society of Manch,:ft-T l6o AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF rife in rebellion againft this prerogative, when they transfer it to human hands. If fociety can be fecured from violence, by confining the murderer, fo as to prevent a repetition of his crime, the end of extirpation will be anfwered. In confinement, he may be reformed : and if this fhould prove impraaicirble, he may be reftrained for a term of years, that will probably, be coeval with his life. There was a time, when the punifhment of cap- tives with death or fervitude, and the indifcriminate deftruaion of peaceable hufbandmen, women, and children, were thought to be effential, to the fuccefs of war, and the fafety of ftates. But experience has taught us, that this is not the cafe. And in propor- tion as humanity has triumphed over thefe maxims of falfe policy, wars have been lefs frequent and terri- ble, and nations have enjoyed longer intervals of in- ternal tranquility. The virtues are all parts of a circle. Whatever is humane, is wife—whatever is wife, is juft—and whatever is wife, juft, and humane, will be found to be the true intereft of ftates, whether criminals or foreign enemies are the objeas of their legiflation. I have taken no notice of perpetual banifhment, as a kgal punifhment, as I confider it the next in de- gree, in folly and cruelty, to the punifhment of death. If the receptacle for criminals, which has been pro- PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. l6l pofed, is ereaed in a remote part of the ftate, it will aa with the fame force upon the feelings of the human heart, as perpetual banifhment. Exile, when perpetual, by deftroying one of the moft powerful prin- ciples of aaion in man, viz. the love of kindred and country, deprives us of all the advantages, which might be derived from it, in the bufinefs of reformation. While certain paffions are weakened, this noble paffion is ftrengthened by age: hence, by preferving this paffion alive, we furnifh a principle, which, in time may become an overmatch for thofe vicious habits, which feparated criminals from their friends and from fociety. Notwithftanding this teftimony againft the punifh- ment of death and perpetual banifhment, I cannot help adding, that there is more mercy to the criminal, and lefs injury done to fociety, by both of them, than by public infamy and pain, without them. The great art of furgery has been faid to confift in faving, not in deftroying, or amputating the difeafed parts of the human body. Let governments learn to imitate, in this refpea, the fkill and humanity of the healing art. Nature knows no wafte in any of her operations. Even putrefaaion itfelf is the parent of ufeful produaions to man. Human ingenuity imitates nature in a variety of arts. Offal maters, of all kinds, are daily converted into the means of increafing the profits of induftry, and the pleafures of human life. y 162 AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECTS OF The foul of man alone, with all its moral and intel- leaual powers, when mifled by paffion, is abandoned, by the ignorance or cruelty of man, to unprofitable corruption, or extirpation. A worthy prelate of the church of England once faid upon feeing a criminal led to execution, " There goes my wicked felf." Confidering the vices to which the frailty of human nature expofes whole families of every rank and clafs in life, it becomes us, whenever we fee a fellow creature led to public infamy and pain, to add further. " There goes my unhappy father, my unhappy brother, or my unhappy fon," and afterwards to afk ourfelves, whether private punifh- ments are not to be preferred to public. For the honour of humanity it can be faid, that in every age and country, there have been found perfons in whom uncorrupted nature has triumphed over cuftom and law. Elfe, why do we hear of houfes being abandoned near to places of public execution ? Why do we fee doors and windows fhut on the days or hours of criminal exhibitions ? Why do we hear of aid being fecretly afforded to criminals, to mitigate or elude the feverity of their punifhments ? Why is the public executioner of the law an objea of fuch general deteftation ? Thefe things are latent ftruggles of reafon, or rather the fecret voice of God himfelf, fpeaking in the human heart, againft the folly and cruelty of rjublic punifhment. PUBLIC PUNISHMENTS. 163 I fhall conclude this enquiry by obfeflring, that the fame falfe religion and philofophy, which once kindled the fire on the alter of perfecution, now doom the criminal to public ignominy and death. In pro- portion as the principles of philofophy and chriftianity are underftood, they will agree in extinguifhing the one, and deftroying the other. If thefe principles continue to extend their influence upon government, as they have done for fome years paft, I cannot help en- tertaining a hope, that the time is not very diftant, when the gallows, the pillory, the flocks, the whipp- :ng-poft and the wheel-barrow, r(the ufual engines of public punifhments) will be conneaed with the hiftory of the rack and the flake, as marks of the barbarity of ages and countries, and as melancholy proofs of the feeble operation of reafon and religion upon the human mind. AN ENQUIRY INTO THE CONS I STENCY OF THE PUKISK] MENT OF MURDER BY DEATH, WITH REASON AND REVELATION. I- r I 1HE Punifhment of Murder by Death, is -■- contrary to reafon, and to the order and happinefs of fociety. i. It leflens the horror of taking away human life, and thereby tends to multiply murders. 2. It produces murder by its influence upon peo- ple who are tired of life, and who, from a fuppofition that murder is a lefs crime than fuicide, deftroy a life (and often that of a near conneaion) and afterwards deliver themfelves up to the laws of their country, that they may efcape from their mifery by means of a halter. 3. The punifhment of murder by death multiplies murders, from the difficulty it creates of conviaing perfons who are guilty of it. Humanity, revolting at the idea of the feverity and certainty of a capital punifhment, often fteps in, and colkas fuch evidence in favour of a murderer, as fcreens him from death altogether, or palliates his crime into manflaughter. Even the law itfelf favours the acquital of a murderer 165 ON THE PUNISHMENT OF MURDER &C. by making the circumftance of premeditation and malice, neceffary to render the offence, a capital crime. Mr. Townfend tells us in his travels into Spain* that fcvcnty murders were perpetrated in Malaga in the 16 months which preceeded his vifit to that city, all of which efcaped with impunity, and pro- bably from the caufes which have been mentioned. If the punifhment of murder confifted in long con- finement, and hard labour, it would be proportioned to the meafure of our feelings of jufiice, and every member of fociety would be a watchman, or a ma- giftrate, to apprehend a deftroyer of human life, and to bring him to punifhment. 4. The punifliment of murder by death checks the operations of univerfal jufiice, by preventing the punifhment of every fpecies of murder. 5. The punifhment of murder by death has been proved to be contrary to the order and happinefs of fociety, by the experiments of fome of the wifeft kgiflators in Europe. The Emprefs of Rufia, the King of Sweden, and the Duke of Tufcany, have nearly extirpated murder from their dominions, by converting its punifhments into the means of bene- fiting fociety, and reforming the criminals who per- petrate it. II. The punifhment of murder by death is con- trary to divi'u revelation. A religion which commands * Vol. 3. 166 ON THE PUNISHMENT OF MURDER us to forgive, and even to do good to, our enemies, can never authorife the punifhment of murder by death. " Vengence is mine," faid the Lord; " I will repay." It is to no p-urpofe to fay here, that this vengeance it taken out of the hands of an indi- vidual, and direaed againft the criminal by the hand of government. It is equally an ufurpation of the prerogative of heaven, whether it be infliaed by a fingle perfon, or by a whole community. Here I expea to meet with an appeal from the letter and fpirit of the gofpel, to the law of Mofes, which declares, " he that killeth a man fhall be put to death." Forgive, indulgent heaven! the ig- norance and cruelty of man, which, by the mifap- plication of this text of fcripture, has fo long and fo often ftained the religion of Jefus Chrift with folly and revenge. The following con federations, I hope, will prove that no argument can be deduced from this law, to juftify the punifhment of murder by death;—on the contrary, that feveral arguments againft it, may be derived from a juft and rational explanation of that part of the Levitical inftitutions. i. There are many things in fcripture above, but nothing contrary to, reafon. Now, the punifliment of murder by death, is contrary to reafon. It cannot, therefore, be agreeable to the will of God. BY DEATH. 167 2. The order and happinefs of fociety cannot fail of being agreeable to the will of God. But the pu- nifhment of murder by death, deftroys the order and happinefs of fociety. It muft therefore be contrary to the will of God. 3. Many of the laws given by Mofes, were accom- modated to the ignorance, wickednefs, and " hardnefs " of heart," of the Jews. Hence their divine legi- flator exprefsly fays, « I gave them ftatutes that were " not good, and judgments whereby they fhould not live." Of this, the law which refpeas divorces, and the law of retaliation, which required, " an eye for " an eye, and a tooth for a tooth," are remarkable inftances. But we are told, that the punifhment of murder by death, is founded not only on the law of Mofes, but upon a pofitive precept given to Noah and his pofle- rity, that " whofo fheddeth man's blood, by man fhall his blood be flied," If the interpretation of this text given in a former effay* be not admitted, I fhall attempt to explain it by remarking, that foon after the flood, the infancy and weaknefs of fociety rendered it impoflible to punifh murder by confinement. There was therefore no medium between infliaing death upon a murderer, and fuffering him to efcape with impunity, and thereby to perpetrate more aas of vio- lence againft his fellow creatures. It pkafed God, in this condition of the world, to permit a lefs, in * Enquiry into the eftc&s of public puniftments. p. 159, 168 ON THE PUNISHMENT OF MURDER order to prevent a greater evil. He therefore commits* for a while his exclufive power over human life, to his creatures for the fafety and prefervation of an infant fociety, which might otherwife have perifhed, and with it, the only flock of the human race. The command indireaiy implies that the crime of murder was not punifhed by death in the mature ftate of fo- ciety which exifted before the flood. Nor is this the only inftance upon record in the fcriptures in which God has delegated his power over human life to his creatures. Abraham exprefles no furprife at the com- mand which God gave him to facrifice his fon. He fubmits to it as a precept founded in reafon and natural jufiice, for nothing could be more obvious, than that the giver of life had a right to claim it, when and in fuch manner as he pleafed. 'Till men are able to give life, it becomes them to tremble at the thought of -taking it away. Will a man rob God ?—Yes—he robs him of what is infinitely dear to him—of his darling attribute of mercy, every time he deprives a fellow creature of life. 4. If the Mofaic law, with refpea to murder, be obligatory upon Chriftians, it follows that it is equally obligatory upon them to punifh adultery, blafphemy and other capital crimes that are mentioned in the Levitlcal law, by death. Nor is this all: it juftifies the extirpation of the Indians, and the enflavmg of the Africans ; for the command to the Jews t« BY DEATH. 169 deftroy the Canaanites, and to make flaves of their heathen neighbours, is as pofitive as the command which dec'ires, " that he that killeth a man, fhall furely be put to death." 5. j.* very part of the Levitical law, is full of types of the Mdfiah. May not the punifhment of death, infliaed by it, be intended to reprefent the demerit and confeqaences of fin, as the cities of refuge were the offices of the Meffiah ? And may not the enlarge- ment of murderers who had fled to thofe cities of refuge, upon the death of a high prieft, reprefent the eternal abrogation of the law which infliaed death for murder, by the meritorious death of the Saviour of the world ? 6. The imperfeaion and feverity of thefe laws were probably intended farther—to illuftrate the per- feaion and mildnefs of the gofpel difpenfation. It is in this manner that God h?.s manifefted himfelf in many of his aas. He created darknefs firft, to illuf- trate by comparifon the beauty of light, and he per- mits fin, mifery, and death in the moral world, that he may hereafter difplay more illuftrioufly the bleffings of nghteoufnefs, happinefs, and immortal life. This opinion is favoured by St. Paul, who fays, " the " law made nothing perfea, and, that it was a " lhadow of good things to come." How delightful to difcover fuch an exaa harmony between the diaates of reafon, the order and hap- 1 I 70 ON THE PUNISHMENT OF MURDER pinefs of fociety, and the precepts of the gofpel f There is a perfea unity in truth. Upon all fubjeas — in all ages—and in all countries—truths of every kind agree with each other. I fhall now take notice of fome of the common arguments, which are made ufe of, to defend the punifhments of murder by death. 1. It has been faid, that the common fenfe of all nations, and particularly of favages, is in favour of punifhing murder by death. The common fenfe of all nations is in favour of the commerce and flavery of their fellow creatures. But this does not take away from their immorality. Could it be proved that the Indians punifh murder by death, it would not eftablifh the right of man over the life of a fellow creature; for revenge we know in its utmoft extent is the univerfal and darling paffion of all favage nations. The praaice morever, (if it exift,) muft have originated in neceffty : for a people who have no fettled place of refidence, and who are averfe from all labour, could reftrain murder in no other way. But I am difpofed to doubt whether the Indians punifh murder by death among their own tribes. In all thofe cafes where a life is taken away by an Indian of a foreign tribe, they always demand the fatisfaaion of life for life. But this praaice is founded on a defire of prefcrving a balance in their numbers and power; for among nations which confift of only a few warriors, the lofs of an individual BY DEATH. I71 often deftroys this balance, and thereby expofes them to war or extermination. It is for the fame purpofe of keeping up an equality in numbers and power, that they often adopt captive children into their nations and families. What makes this explanation of the praaice of punifhing murder by death among the Indians more probable, is, that we find the fame bloody and vindiaive fatisfaaion is required of a foreign nation, whether the perfon loft, be killed by an accident, or premeditated violence. Many faas might be mentioned from travellers to prove that the Indians do not punifh murder by death within the jurifdiaion of their own tribes. I fhall mention only one, which is taken from the Rev. Mr. John Mega- polenfis's account of the Mohawk Indians, lately pub- lifhed in Mr Hazard's hiftorical colkaion of ftate pa- pers.—" There is no punifhment, (fays our author) " here for murder, but every one is his own avenger. " The friends of the deccafed revenge themfelves " upon the murderer until peace is made with the " next a kin. But although they are fo cruel, yet of all his fchoolmafters. Let the you.h of our country be carefully inftru£ted in reading, writing, arithmetic, and in the doarines of a religion of fome kind : the Chriftian religion fhould be preferred to all others ; for it belongs to this religion exclufively to teach us not only to cultivate peace with men, but to forgive, nay more—to love our very enemies. It belongs to it further to teach us that the Supreme Being alone pof- fefles a power to take away human life, and that we rebel againft his laws, whenever we undertake to execute death in any way whatever upon any of his creatures. III. Let every family in the United States be fur- niflied at the public expenfe, by the Secretary of this office, with a copy of an American edition of the bible. This meafure has become the more neceffary in our country, fince the banifhment of the bible, as a fchool-book, from moft of the fchools in the United States. Unlefs the price of this book be paid for by the public, there is reafon to fear that in a few years it will be met with only in courts of juftice or in magiftrates' offices; and fhould the abfurd mode of eftablifhing truth by kiffing this facred book fall into difufe, it may probably, in the courfe of the next FOR THE UNITED STATES. 185 generation, be ken only as a curiofity on a fhelf in a public mufeum. IV. Let the following fentence be inferibed in letters of gold over the doors of every State and Court houfe in the LTnited States. THE SON OF MAN CAME INTO THE WORLD, NOT TO DESTROY MEN'S LIVES, BUT TO SAVE THEM, V. To infpire a veneration for human life, and an horror at the fhedding of human blood, let all thofe laws be repealed which authorife juries, judges, fheriffs, or hangmen to affume the refentments of individuals and to commit murder in cold blood in any cafe whatever. Until this reformation in our code of penal jurifprudence takes place, it will be in vain to attempt to introduce univerfal and perpetual peace In our country. VI. To fubdue that paffion for war, which educa- tion, added to human depravity, have made univerfal, a familiarity with the inftruments of death, as well as all military fhows, fliould be carefully avoided. For which reafon, militia laws fliould every where be repealed, and military dreffes and military titles fhould be laid afide: reviews tend to kflim the horrors of a battle by conneaing them with the charms of order; militia laws generate idlenefs and vice, and thereby produce the wars they are faid to prevent; military dreffes fafcinate the minds B b i&6 A PLAN OT A PEACE OFFICE of young men, and lead them from ferious and ufeful profeffions ; were there no uniforms, there would pro- bably be no armies •, laftly, military titles feed vanity, and keep up ideas in the mind which leflen a fenfe of the folly and miferies of war. VII. In the laft place, let a large room, adjoining the federal hall, be appropriated for tranfaaing the bufinefs and preferving all the records of this office. Over the door of this room let there be a fign, on which the figures of a lamb, a dove and an olive branch fhould be painted, together with the follow- ing infcriptions in kt;ers of gold : PEACE ON EARTH—GOOD-WILL TO MAN. AH! WHY WILL MLN FORGET THAT THEY ARE BRETHREN ? Within this apartment let there be a colkaion of ploughfhares and pruning-hooks made out of fwords and fpears ; and on each of the walls of the apartment, the following piaures as large as the life : i. A lion eating ftraw with an ox, and an adder playing upon the lips of a child. 2. An Indian boiling his venifon in the fame pot with a citizen of Kentucky. 3. Lord Cornwallls and Tippoo Saib, under the fhade of a fycamore-tree in the Eaft Indies, drinking Madeira wine together out of the fame decanter. JOR THE UNITED STATES I87 4. A group of French and Au'aian foldiers danc- ing arm and arm, under a bower ercaed in the neigh.- bourhood of Mons. 5. A St. Domingo planter, a man of color, and a native of Africa, legiflating together in the fame colonial affembly.f To complete the entertainment of this delightful apartment, let a group of young ladies, clad in white robes, afkmble every day at a certain hour, in a gallery to be ereaed for the purpofe, and fing odes, and hymns, and anthems in praife of the blellings of peace. One of thefe fongs fhould confift of the following lines. Peace o'er the wo.ld her olive wand extends, And ivhicc-rob'd innocence from heaven defcends ; All crimes fliall ceafe, and ancient frauds mail tail, Returning juftice lifts aloft her fcale. In order more deeply to affea the minds of the citi- zens of the United States with the bleffings of peace, by contrafting them with the evils of war, let the follow- ing in fcriptions be painted upon the fign, which is placed over the door of the War Office. 1. An office for butchering the human fpecies. 2. A Widow and Orphan making office. ■J- At the time of writing this, there exifted wars between the United 6utcs and the American Indians, between the Britifh nation and Tippoo i ,ib, te:ween the planters of St Domingo and their African (laves, zrA b«:wccn the French nation and the emperor of Germany. lS8 A PLAN OF A PEACE OFFICE, &C. 3. A broken bone making office. 4. A Wooden leg making office. 5. An office for creating public and private vices. 6. An office for creating a public debt. 7. An office for creating fpeculators, flock Jobbers, and Bankrupts. 8. An office for creating famine. 9 An office for creating peftikntial difeafes. 10. An office for creating poverty, and the deftruc- tion of liberty, and national happinefs. In the lobby of this office let there be painted re- prefentations of all the common military inftruments of death, alfo human flculls, broken bones, unburied and putrifying dead bodies, hofpitals crouded with fick and wounded Soldiers, villages on fire, mothers in befieged towns eating the flefli of their children, fhips finking in the ocean, rivers dyed with blood, and extenfive plains without a tree or fence, or any other objea, but the ruins of deferted farm houfes. Above this ?roup of woeful figures,—let the following words be inLvted, in red charaaers to re- prefent human blood, « NATIONAL GLORY." Information to Europeans who are disposed to migrate to the unites states of america. In a letter to a friend in Great Britain. AGREEABLY to your requeft contained in your letter of the 29th of Auguft, 1789' I have at laft fat down to communicate fuch faas to you, upon the fubjea of migration to this country, as have been the refult of numerous enquiries and obfervation. I am aware that this fubjea has been handled in a maf- tcrly manner by Doaor Franklin, in his excellent little pampkt, entitled " Advice to thofe who would wifli " to remove to America," but as that valuable little work is very general, and as many important changes have occurred in the affairs of the United States fince its publication, I fliall endeavour to comply with your wifhcs, by adding fuch things as have been omitted by the Doaor, and fliall accommodate them to the prefent ftate of our country. I fliall begin this letter by mentioning the defcrip- tions of people, who ought not to come to America. I. Men of independent fortunes who can exift only in company, and who can converfe only upon public amufements, fhould not think of fettling in the United States. I have known feveral men of that charaaer in this country, who have rambled from State *9» INFORMATION TO EUROPEANS to State, complaining of the dulnefs of each of them, and who have finally returned and renewed their for- mer connexions and pleafures in Europe. II. Literary men, who have no profelfional purfuits, will often languifh in America, from the want of fociety. Our authors and fcholars are generally men of bufinefs, and make their literary purfuits fubfervient to their interefts. A lounger in book ftores, breakfafting parties for the purpofe of literary converfation, and long attic evenings, are as yet but little known in this country. Our companies are generally mixed, and converfation in them is a medley of ideas upon all fubjeas. They begin as in England with the weather —foon run into politics —now and then diverge into li- terature—and commonly conclude with faas relative to commerce, manufaaures and agriculture, and the beft means of acquiring and improving aneftate. Men, who are philofophers or poets, without other purfuits, had better end their days in an old country. III. The United States as yet afford but little en- couragement to the profeffers of moft of the fine arts. Fainting and fculpture flourifh chiefly in wealthy and luxurious countries. Our native American portrait painters who have net fought proteaion and encou- ragement in Great Britain, have been obliged to travel occafionally from one State to another in order to fupport themfelves. The teachers of mufic have been more fortunate in America. A tafte for this accom- MIGRATING TO THE UNITED STATES. I9I plifhment prevails very generally in our large cities : and eminent mailer's in that art, who have arrived here fince the peace, have received confiderable fums of money by exercifing their profeffion among us. 1 fliall now mention thofe defcriptions of people, who may better their condition by coming to America. I. To the cultivators of the earth th>: United States open the firft afylum in the world. To infure the fuccefs and happinefs of an European Farmer in our country, it is neceffary to advife him either to purchafe or to rent a farm which has undergone fome improve- ment. The bufinefs of fettling a new traa of land, and that of improving a farm, are of a very different nature. The former muft be efkaed by the native American. who is accuftomed to the ufe of the axe and the grub- bing hoe, and who poffeffes almoft cxclufively a know- ledge of all the peculiar andnamckfs arts of felf-pTefeT- vation in the woods. I have known many inftances of Europeans who have fpent all their cafh in unfuccefs- ful attempts to force a fcttlemcnt in the wildernefs, and who have afterwards been expofed to poverty and diftrefs at a great diftance from friends and even neighbours. I would therefore advife all farmers with moderate capitals, to purchafe or rent improved farms in the old fettlements of our States. The prke and rent of thefe farms are different in the different parts of the union. In Pennfylvania, the price of farms 192 INFORMATION TO EUROPEANS is regulated by the quality of the land—by the value ot the improvements which are ereatfd upon it—by their Wcinity to fea ports and navigable water—and by the good or bad ftate of the roads which lead to them. There is a great variety, of courfe, in the price of farms : while forne of them have been fold for five guineas— others have been fold at lower prices, clown to one gui- nea, and even half a guinea per acre, according as they were varied by the above circumftances. It is not expeaed that the whole price of a farm fliould be paid at the time of purchafing it. An half, a third, or a fourth, is all that is generally re- quired. Bonds and mortgages are given for the re- mainder, (and fometimes without intereft) payable in two, three, five, or even ten years. The value of thefe farms has often been doubled rnid even trebled, in a few years, where the new mode of agriculture has been employed in cultivating them : fo that a man with a moderate capital, may, in the courfe of fifteen years, become an opulent and independent freeholder. If, notwithftanding what has been faid of the difficulties of effcaing an eftablifhment in the woods, the low price of the new lands fliould tempt the European Farmer to fettle in them, then let me add, that it can only be done by aflbciating himfelf in a large company, under the direaion of an active and intelligent American farmer. To fecure even a Migrating to the united states. 193 Company of European fettlers from difappointment and want in the woods, it will be neceffary to clear a few acres of land the year before, and to fow them with grain, in order to provide fubfiftance for the company, till they can provide for themfelves, by clearing their own farms. The difficulties of eftablifh- ing this new fettlement, will be further leffened, if a few cabins, a grift and a faw mill be ereaed, at the fame time the preparations are made for the temporary fubfiftance of the company. In this manner, moil of the firft fettlements of the New England men have been made in this country. One great advantage, attend- ing this mode of fettling, is, a company may always carry with them a clergyman and a fchoolmafter, of the fame, religion and language with themfelves. If a fettler in the woods fliould poffefs a tafte for rural elegance, he may gratify it without any expenfe, by the manner of laying out his farm. He may fhade his houfe by means of ancient and venerable forreft- trees. He may leave rows of them Handing, to adorn his lanes and walks—or clufters of them on the high grounds of his fields, to fhade his cattle, If he fhould fix upon any of thofe parts of our weft- em country, which are covered with the fugar-trees, he may inclofe a fufficient number of them to fupply his family with fugar; and may confer upon them at the fame time the order and beauty of a fine or- chard. In this manner, a highly improved feat may C c *94 ftsTORMATION TO EUROPEANS be cut out of the woods in a few years, which will fur- pafs both in elegance and value a farm in an old fettkment, which has been for twenty years the fub- jea of improvements in tafte" and agriculture. To contemplate a dwelling-houfe—a barn—ftables—fields —meadows—an orchard—a garden, &c. which have been produced from original creation by the labour of a fingle life, is, I am told, to the proprietor of them, one of the higheft pleafures the mind of man is capa- ble of enjoying. But how much muft this pleafure be increafed, when the regularity of art is blended in the profpea, with the wildnefs and antiquity of nature ? It has been remarked in this country, that clearing the land of its woods, fometimes makes a new fettk- ment unhealthy, by expofing its damp grounds to the aaion of the fun. To obviate this evil, it will be neceflary for the fettkr either to drain and cultivate his low grounds, as foon as they are cleared, or to leave a body of trees between his dwelling houfe, and the fpots from whence the morbid effluvia are derived. The laft of thefe methods has, in no inftance that I have heard of, failed of preferving whole families from fuch difeafes as arife from damp or putrid exha- lations. To country gentlemen, who have been accuftom- ed to live upon the income of a landed eftate in Europe, it will be neceffary to communicate the following in- formation, \iz. that farms, in confequence of the MIGRATING TO THE UNITED STATES. 1$$ unproduaivc woodland, which is generally conneaed with them, feldom yield more than three or four per cent, a year in r fti, except in the neighbour- hood of large cities. Befides, from the facility with which money enough may be faved in a few years, to purchafe land in this country, tenants will not accept of long leaks : and hence they are not fufficiently interefted in the farms they rent, to keep them in repair. If country gentlemen wifh to derive the greateft advantage from laying out their money in lands, they muft refide in their vicinity. A capital of five thoufand guineas, invefted in a number of contiguous farms, in an improved part of our country, and cultivated by tenants under the eye and direaion of a landlord, would foon yield a greater income than double that fum would in moft parts of Europe. The landlord in this cafe muft frequently vifit and infpea the ftate of each of his farms : and now and then he muft flop to repair a bridge or a fence in his excurfions through them. He muft receive all his rents in the produce of the farms. If the tenant find his own flock, he will pay half of all the grain he raifes, and fometimes a certain proportion of ve- getable and live flock, to his landlord. The divifion of the grain is generally made in the field, in fheaves or flacks, which are carried home to be thrafhed in the barn of the landlord. An eftated gentleman, who can reconcile himfelf to this kind of life, may be both happy and ufefiU* He may inftrua his I96 INFORMATION TO EUROPEANS tenants by his example, as well as precepts in the new modes of hufbandry : he may teach them the art and advantages of gardening1'* he may infpire them with habits of fobriety, induftry, and ceconomy •, and thereby become the father and proteaor of a depen- dant and affeaionate neighbourhood. After a bufy fummer and autumn, he may pafs his winters in polifh- ed fociety in any of our cities, and in many of our country villages. But fhould he be difinclined to fuch extenfive jfcenes of bufinefs, he may confine his purchafes and labours to a fingle farm, and fecure his fuperfluous cafh in bonds and mortgages, which will yield him fix per cent, Under this head, it is proper to mention, that the agricultural life begins to maintain in the United States, the fame rank that it has long maintained in Great Britain. Many gentlemen of education among hs have quitted liberal profeffions, and have proved, by their fuccefs in farming, that philofophy is in no bufinefs more ufeful or profitable, than in agriculture. II. Mechanics and manufacturers, of every def- cription, will find certain encouragement in the Uni- ted States. During the conneaion of this country with Great Britain, we were taught to believe that agriculture and commerce fhould be the only purfuits of the Americans: but experiments and reflexion have taught us, that our country abounds with re^ MIGRATING TO THE UNITED STATES. I97 fources for manufaaures of all kinds : and that moft of them may be conduaed with great advantage in all the ftates. We are already nearly independent of the whole world for iron-work, paper, and malt liquors : and great progrefs has been made in the manufac- turies of glafs, pot-afh, and cloths of all kinds. The commercial habits of our citizens have as yet prevented thtir employing large capitals in thofe manufaauries : but I am perfuaded that if a few Euro- pean adventurers would embark in them with capitals equal to the demand for thofe manufaaures, they would foon find an immenfe profit in their fpeculations. A fingle farmer in the ftate of New York, with a capital of five thoufand pounds, has cleared one thoufand a year by the manufaaure of pot-afh alone. Thofe mechanical arts, which are accomodated to the infant and fimpkftateofa country,will bid faireft to fucceed among us. Every art, conneaed with cul- tivating the earth—building houfes and fhips, and feed- ing and clothing the body, will meet with encourage- ment in this country. The prices of provifions are fo different in the different ftates, and even in the different parts of the fame ftate, and vary fo much with the plenty and fcarcity of money, that it would - be difficult to give you fuch an account of them as would be ufeful. I need only remark, that the difpro- portion between the price of labour and of provifions, is much greater in every part of the LTnited States, than in any part of Europe : and hence our tradefmen I98 INFORMATION TO EUROPEANS every where eat meat and butter every day : : nd moft of them realize the wifh of Henry IV. of France, for the peafants of his kingdom, by dining not only once, but two or three times, upon poultry, in every week of the year. It is a Angular faa in the hiftory of the mechanical arts in this country, that the fame arts feldom defcend from father to fon. Such are the profits of even the humbkft of them, that the fons of mechanics generally rife from the lower to the more refpeaabk occupa- tions : and thus their families gradually afcend to the firft ranks in fociety among us. The influence, which the profpeas of wealth and confequence have in invigo-v rating induftry in every line of mechanical bufinefs, is very great. Many of the firft men in America, are the fons of reputable mechanics or farmers. But I may go farther, and add, that many men, who diftinguifhed themfelves both in the cabinet and field, in the late war, had been mechanics. I know the Britifh officers treated the American caufe with contempt, from this circumftance : but the event of the war fhewed, that the confidence of America was not mifplaced in that body of citizens. III. Labourers may depend upon conftant em- ployment in the United States, both in our towns and in the country. When they work by the day, they receive high wages: but thefe are feldom conrmu.'d MIGRATING TO THE UNITED STATES. I99 through the whole year. A labourer receives annually, with his boarding, wafhing, and lodging, from' fif- teen to eighteen guineas, in the middle ftates. It is agreeable to obferve this clafs of men frequently raifed by their induftry from their humble ftations, into the upper ranks of life, in the courfe of twenty or thirty years. IV. Persons who are willing to indent fhemfel\e!i as Ihrvants for a few years, will find that humble ftatiou no obftacle to a future eftablifliment in our country. Many men, who came to America in that capacity, are now in affluent circumftances. Their former fituation, where they have behaved well, does not preclude them from forming refpeaable connec- tions in marriage, nor from fharing, if otherwife qualified, in the offices of our country. V. The United States continue to afford encourage- ment to gentlemen of the learned profefftons, provided they be prudent in their deportment, and of fufficient knowledge : for fince the eftablifliment of colleges and fchools of learning in all our ftates, the fame degrees of learning will not fucceed among us, which fuccceded fifty years ago. Several lawyers and phyficians, who have arrived here fince the peace, are now in good bufinefs: and many clergymen, natives of England, Scotland, and Ireland, are comfortably fettled in good parifhes. A 400 INFORMATION TO EUROPEANS minifter of the gofpel in a country place muft not ex- pea to have all his falary paid in cafli : but he will notwithftanding feldom fail of obtaining a good fubfif- tance from his congregation. They will furnifh his table with a portion of all the live ftock they raife for their own ufe : they will fhoe his horfes—repair his implements of hufbandry, and affift him in gathering in his harvefts, and in many other parts of the bufinefs of his farm. From thefe aids, with now and then a little cafli, a clergyman may not only live well, but, in the courfe of his life, may accumulate an handfome eftate for his children. This will more certainly happen, If he can redeem time enough from his paro- chial duties, and the care of his farm, to teach a fchool. The people of America are of all feas : but the greateft part of them are of the independent, prefbyterian, epif- copal, baptift, and methodift denominations. The principles held by each of thefe focieties in America are the fame as thofe which are held by the proteftant churches in Europe, from which they derive their origin. VI. Schoolmasters of good capacities and fair charaaers may exepa, to meet with encouragement in the middle and fouthern ftates. They will fucceed better, if they confine their inftruaions to reading, writing, Englifh grammar, and the fciences of number and quantity. Thefe branches of literature are of general neceffity and utility : and of courfe every MIGRATING TO THE UNITED STATES. 20t townfliip will furnifh fcholars enough for the main- tenance of a fchoolmafter. Many young men have rifen by means of the connexions they have formed in this ufeful employment, to rank and confequence in the learned profeffions in every part of this country. From this account of the United States, you will eafily perceive, that they are a hot-bed for induftry and genius in almoft every human purfuit. It is in- conceivable how many ufeful difcoveries neceffity has produced within thefe few years, in agriculture and manufaaures, in our country. The fame neceffity has produced a verfatility of genius among our citizens : hence we frequently meet with men who have excrcif- ed two or three different occupations or profeffions in the courfe of their lives, according to the influence which intereft, accident, or local circumftances have had upon them. I know that the peculiarities, which have been mentioned in the American charaaer, ftrike an European, who has been accuftomed to confider man as a creature of habit, formed by long eftabliflied governments, and hereditary cuftoms, as fo many deviations from propriety and order. But a wife man, who knows that national charaaers arife from circum- ftances, will view thefe peculiarities without furprife, and attribute them wholly to the prefent ftate of man- ners, fociety, and government in America. From the numerous competitions in every branch of bufinefs in Europe, fuccefs in any purfuit, may be D d 202 INFORMATION TO EUROPEANS looked upon in the fame light as a prize in a lottery. But the cafe is widely different in America. Here there is room enough for every human talent and virtue to expand and flourifh. This is fo invariably true, that I believe there is not an inftance to be found, of an induftrious, frugal prudent European, with fober manners, who has not been fuccefsful in bufinefs, In this country. As a further inducement to Europeans to tranfport themfelves acrofs the Ocean, I am obliged to mention a faa that does little honour to the native American ; and that is, in all competitions for bufinefs, where fuc- cefs depends upon induftry, the European is generally preferred. Indeed, fuch is the facility with which pro- perty is acquired, that where it does not operate as a ftimulus to promote ambition, it is fometimes accom- panie kept up alike by the increafe of the price, and the divifion of farms, a migration of part of the com- munity becomes abfolutely neceffary. And as this part of the community often confifts of the idle and extravagant, who eat without working, their removal, by increafing the facility of fubfiftence to the frugal ancl induftrious who remain behind, naturally incrcafes the number of people, juft as the cutting off the fuckers of an apple-tree increafes the fize of the tree, and the quantity of fruit. I have only to add upon this fubjea, that the migrants from Pennfylvania always travel to the fouth- ward. The foil and climate of the weftern parts of Virginia, North and South-Carolina, and Georgia, afford a more eafy fupport to lazy farmers, than the ftubborn but durable foil of Pennfylvania.—Here, our ground requires deep and repeated plowing to render it fruitful—there, Scratching the ground once or twice affords tolerable crops. Jn Pennfylvania, the length and coldnefs of the winter make it neceffary for the farmers to beftow a large fhare of their labour in pro- viding for and feeding their cattle ; but in the fouthern ftates, cattle find pafture during the greateft part of the winter, in the fields or woods. For thefe reafons, the greateft part of the weftern counties of the States, that have been mentioned, are fettled by original in- habitants of Pennfylvania. During the late war, the POPULATION, &C. IN PENNSYLVANIA. 22$ militia of Orange county, in North Carolina, were enrolled, and their number amounted to 3,500, every man of whom had migrated from Pennfylvania. From this you will fee, that our State is the great outport of the United States for Europeans; and that, after performing the office of . a fieve by detaining all thofe people who poffefs the ftamina of induftry and virtue, it allows a paffage to the reft, to thofe States which are accommodated to their habits of jndolence. I fhall conclude this letter by remarking, that in the mode of extending population and agrkulture, which I have defcribed, we behold a new fpecies of war. The third fettler may be viewed as a conqueror. The weapons with which he atchieves his conquefts, are the implements of hufbandry: and the virtues which direa them, are induftry and ceconomy. Idlenefs— extravagance—and ignorance fly before him. Happy would it be for mankind, if the kings of Europe would adopt this mode of extending their territories : it would foon put an end to the dreadful conneaion, which has exifted in every age, between war and poverty, and between conqueft and defolation. With great refpea, I have the honor to be, Sir, Your moft obedient humble fervant. Gg *■ . I I ■ I II ■! £AN ACCOUNT OF THE MANNERS OF THE GERMAN INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. THE ftate of Pennfylvania is fo much in- debted for her profperity and reputation, to the German part of heir citizens, that a fhort account of their manners may, perhaps, be ufeful and agreeable fo their fellow citizens in every part of the United States. The aged,Germans, and the anceftors of thofe who are young, migrated chiefly from the Palatinate; from Alcace, Swabis, Saxony, and Switzerland : but natives of every principality and dukedom, in Germany, are to be found in different parts of the ftate. They brought but little property with them. A few pieces of gold or filver coin, a cheft filled with clothes, a bible, and a prayer or an hymn book conftituted the whole ftock of moft of them. Many of them bound themfelves, or one or more of their children, to maf- ters after their arrival, for four, five, or feven years, in order to pay for their paffages acrofs the ocean. A clergyman always accompanied them when they came in large bodies. The principal part of them were farmers; but there were many mechanics., who brought with fehem a knowledge of thofe arte which are necef- AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN INHABITANTS $CC» 2.%"] fary and ufeful in all countries. Thefe mechanics were chiefly weavers, taylors, tanners, fhoemakers, comb-makers, fmiths of all kinds, butchers, paper- makers, watch makers, and fugar bakers. I fhall begin this account of the German inhabitants of Pennfylvania, by defcribing the manners of the German farmers. This body of citizens are not only induftriou* and frugal, but fkilful cultivators of the earth. I fhall enumerate a few particulars, in which they differ from moft ot the other farmers of Pennfyl- vania. i ft. In fettling a traa of land, they always pro- vide large and fuitable accomodations for their horfes and cattle, before they lay out much money in building a houfe for themfelves. The barn and the ftables are generally under one roof, and contrived in fuch a manner as to enable them to feed their horfes and cattle, and to remove their dung, with as little trouble as poflible. The firft dwelling houfe upon fhis farm is fmall, and built of logs. It gen- erally lafts the life time of the firft fettler of a traa of land; and hence they have a faying, that " a '« fon fhould always begin his improvements where « his father left off,"—that is, by building a large and convenient ftone houfe. 2d. They always prefer good land or that land on which there is a large quantity of meadow ground. 22t AN ACCOUNT OP THE GERMAN From an attention to the cultivation of grafs, they often double the value of an old farm in a few years, and grow rich on farms, on which their predeceflbrs of whom they purchafed them, have nearly ftarved. They prefer purchafing farms with fome improvements to fettling on a new traa of land. 3d. In clearing new land, they do not girdle the trees fimply, and leave them to perifh in the ground, as is the cuftom of their Englifh or Irifh neighbours ; but they generally cut them down and burn them. In deftroying under-wood and bufhes, they generally grub them out of the ground ; by which means a field is as fit for cultivation the fecond year after it is ckared, as it is in twenty years afterwards. The advantages of this'mode of clearing, confift in the im- mediate produa of the field, and in the greater faci- lity with which it is ploughed, harrowed and reaped. The expenfe of repairing a plough, which is often broken two or three times in a year by fmall flumps concealed in the ground, is often greater than the ex- traordinary expenfe of grubbing the fame field com- pletely, in clearing it, 4th. They feed their horfes and cows, of which they keep only a fmall number, in fuch a manner, that the former perform twice the labour of thofe horfes, and the latter yield twice the quantity of milk of thofe cows, that are lefs plentifully fed. There is great ceconomy in this praaice, efpecially INHABITANTS «F PENNSYLVANIA. 329 in a country where fo much of the labour of a farmer is neceffary to fupport his domeftic ani- mals. A German horfe is known in every part of the ftate : indeed he feems to " feel with his " lord, the pleafure and the pride" of his ex- traordinary fize or fat. 5 th. The fences of a German farm are generally high, and well built; fo that his fields feldom fuf- fer from the inroads of his own or his neighbours, horfes, cattle, hogs, or fheep. 6th. The German farmers are great oeconomifts of their wood. Hence they burn it only in ftoves, in which they confume but a 4th. or 5th. part of what is com- monly burnt in ordinary open fire places: befides, their horfes are faved by means of this ceconomy, from that imme/nfe labour, in hauling wood in the middle of winter, which frequently unfits the horfes of their neighbours for the toils of the enfuing fpring. Their houfes are, moreover, rendered fo comfortable, at all times, by large clofe ftoves, that twice the bufinefs is done by every branch of the family,in knit- ing, fpinning, and mending farming utenfils, that is done in houfes where every member of the family crouds near to a common fire-place, or fliivers at a diftance from it,—with hands and fingers that move, by reafon of the cold, with only half their ufual quick- r.efs. 2J0 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN They difcover ceconomy in the prefervation and in- creafe of their wood in feveral other ways. They fometimes defend it, by high fences, from their cattle ; by which medns the young foreft trees are fuffered to grow, to replace thofe that are cut down for the neceffary ufe of the farm. But where this cannot be conveniently done, they furround the flump of that tree which is moft ufeful for fences, viz. the chefnut, with a fmall triangular fence. From this flump a number of fuckers fhoot out in a few years, two or three of which in the courfe of five and twenty years, grow into trees of the fame fize as the tree from whofe roots they derived their origin. 7th. They keep their horfes and cattle as warm as poflible in winter, by which means they fave a great deal of their hay and grain ; for thofe animals when cold, eat much more than when they are in a more comfortable fituation. 8th. The German farmers live frugally in their families, with refpea to diet, furniture and apparel. They fell their moft profitable grain, which is wheat; and eat that which is lefs profitable, but more nourifh- ing, that is rye or Indian corn. The profit to a farmer* from this fingle article of ceconomy, is equal, in the courfe of a life time, to the price of a farm for one of his children. They eat fparingly of boiled animal food, with large quantities of vegetables, particularly fallad, turnips, onions, and cabbage, INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 231 the laft of which they make into four crout. They likewife ufe a large quantity of milk and cheefe in their diet. Perhaps the Germans do not propor- tion the quantity of their animal food, to the degrees of their labour; hence it .has been thought, by fome people, that they decline in ftrength fooner than their Englifh or Irifh neighbours. Very few of them ever ufe diftilled fpirits in their families: their com- mon drinks are cyder, beer, wine, and fimple water. The furniture of their houfe is plain and ufeful. They cover themfeves in winter with light feather beds inftead of blankets: in this contrivance there is both convenience, and ceconomy, for the beds are warmer than blankets, and they are made by them- felves. The apparel of the German farmers is-u- fually homefpun. When they ufe European articles of drefs, they prefer thofe which are of the beft qua- lity, and of the higheft price. They are afraid of debt, and feldom purchafe any thing without paying tafh for it. 9th. The German farmers have large or profitable gardens near their houfes. Thefe contain little elfe but ufeful vegetables. Pennfylvania is indebted to the Ger- mans for the principal part of her knowledge in hor- ticulture. There was a time when turnips and cabbage were the principal vegetables that were ufed in diet by the citizens of Philadelphia. This will not furprife thofe perfons, who know that the firft Englifh fettlers in Permfvlvania left England while horticulture was in 232 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN its infancy in that country. It was not till the reign of William III. that.this ufeful and agreeable art was cultivated by the Englifh nation. Since the fettkmcnt of a number of German gardeners in the neighbour- hood of Philadelphia, the tables of all clafies of citizens have been covered with a variety of vegetables, in every feafon of the year; and to the ufe of thefe vegetables, in diet, may be afcribed the general exemp- tion of the citizens of Philadelphia from difeafes of the fkin. ioth. The Germans feldom hire men to work upon their farms. The feebknefs of that authority which mafters poffefses over hired fervants, is fuch that their wages are feldom procured from their labour, except in harveft, when they work in the prefence of their mafters. The wives and daughters of the German farmers frequently forfake, for a while, their dairy and fpinning-wheel, and join their hufbands and brothers in the labour of cutting down, colkaing and bringing home the fruits of their fields and orchards The work of the gardens is generally done by the women of the family. nth. A large and ftrong waggon covered with linen cloth, is an effential part of the furniture of a German farm. In this waggon, drawn by four or five large horfes of a peculiar breed: they convey to market over the roughtft roads, between 2 or 3 thou- f.nd pounds weight of the produce of their farms. In INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 233 the months of September and Oaober, it is no uncom- mon thing, on the Lancaftcr and Reading roads, to meet in one day from fifty to an hundred of thefe wag- gons, on their way to Philadelphia, moft of which be- long to German farmers. 12th. The favourable influence of agriculture, ..s conduaed by the Germans in extending human hap- pinefs, is manifefted by the joy they exprefs upon the birth of a child. No dread of poverty, nor diftruft of Providence from an encreafing family, deprefs the fpirits of thefe induftrious and frugal people. Upon the birth of a fon, they exult in the gift of a ploughman or a wnjgoner; and upon the birth of a dauorhter; ti^y rejoice in the addition of another fpinfter, or milkmaid to their family. Happy ftate of human fockty ! what bleffincs can civilization confer, that cm atone for the extinction of the ancient and • patriarchal pleafure of raifing up a numerous and healthy family of chudren, to labour for their parents, for themfelves, and for their country ; and finally to partake of the knowledge u::d harv- pinefs which are annexed to exiftence ! The jcy.0fy.2- reuts upon the birth of a child is the graterul echo of cr<~ati'iv goodnefs. May the mountains of I3^.ai-^v^.i'.a. be for ever vocal, with fongs of joy upon the.e occafions ! They will bs the infallible i gns of inno- cence, induftry, wealth and h.nniucfs in the ilate. 13th. Th: Germans take great oaias to produce, in their children, not o-uy hab.is of labour, but a love Hh 2^4 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN of it. In this they fubmit to the irrcvcrfible fentencc infliaed upon man, in fuch a manner, as to convert the wrath of heaven into private and public happinefs. « To fear God, and to love work," are the firft leffons they teach their children. They prefer induftrious ha- bits to money itfelf; hence; when a young man afks the confent of his father to marry the girl of his choice, he does not enquire fo much whether fhe be rich or poor ? or whether fhe poffefses any perfonal or mental accomplifhments—as whether fhe be induftiious, and acquainted with the duties of a good houfe-wife ? 14th. The Germans fet a great value upon patrimo- nial property. This ufeful principle in human nature prevents much folly and vice in young people. It moreover leads to lafting and extenfive advantages, in the improvement of a farm ; for what inducement can be ftronger in a parent to plant an orchard, to preferve foreft-trees or to build a commodious and durable houfe, than the idea, that they will all be pofkfsed by 2 fucceffion of generations, who fhall inherit his blood and name. 15th. The German farmers are very much influenc- ed in planting snd pruning trees, alfo in fowing and reaping, by the age, and appearances of the moon. This attention to the ftate of the moon has been afcribed to fuperftition; but if the faas related by Mr. Wilfon in his obfervations upon climates are true, part of their fuccefs in agriculture muft be afcribed to their being fo much influenced by it. INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 23J 16th. From the hiftory that has been given of the German agriculture, it will hardly be neceffary to add that a German farm may be diftinguifhed from the farms of the other citizens of the ftate, by the fuperior fize of their barns; the plain, but compaa form of their houfes; the height of their enclofures; the extent of their orchards; the fertility of their fields; the luxuri- ance of their meadows, and a general appearance of plenty and neatnefs in everything that belongs to them. The German mechanic poffeffes fome of the traits of the charaaer that has been drawn of the German farmer. His firft objea is to becipme a freeholder ; and hence we find few of them live in rented houfes. The higheft compliment that can be paid to them on entering their houfes is to afk them, " is this houfe your own." They are induftrious, frugal, punaual and juft. Since their fettkment in Pennfylvania, many of them have acquired a knowledge of thofe mechanical arts, which are more immediately neceffa- ry and ufeful in a new country ; while they continue at the fame time, to carry on the arts they impor- ted from Germany, with vigour and fuccefs. But the genius of the Germans of Pennfylvania, is not confined to agriculture and the mechanical arts. Many of them have acquired great wealth by foreign and domeftic commerce. As merchants they arc can- did and punaual. The bank of North America has witneflcd, from its firft inftitution, their fidelity to all their pecuniary engagements. 2%6 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GASMAN Thus far Iir.ve I defcribed the indiviau.- charaaer of feveral orders of the Gc-nriM citizens of !'••'.nfyivania. I fhall now take notk .' of fome of their ma ;nt"s :~ a colkaive capacity. All the different feels n;v _, them are particularly attentive, to the reh^hm.- ■ cation of their children, and to the eftabh ^u . * .1 fupport of the chriftian religion. For tms purpote they fettle as much as ■ offiblc together—vno r. .c the ereaion of a fchool houre and a place of worihip the firft objea of their care. They commit the ed\ca- tion and' Inftruaion of their children in a peculiar manner to the minifters and officers of their churches •, —hence they grow up with prejudices in favour of pub- lic worfiiip, and of the obligations of chriftianity. Such has been the influence of a pious education among the German Lutherans in Pennfyb-::nia, that in the courfe of nineteen years, only one. of them has ever been brought to a place of public fhame. on punifhment. As members of civil government, the Germans are peaceable—and exaa in the payment of their tax- es. Since they have participated in the power of the ftate, many of them have become fenfible and enlightened in the fcience of kgiflation. Pennfylvania has had fhe fpeaker's chair of her afkmb'y, and the vicc-prefident's oslice of her council, filled with dignity by gentlemen of German families. The fame gentlemen have fince been advanced to feats in the houfe of representatives, under the new conftitution INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 237 of the United States. In the great controverfy about the national government, a large majority of the Germans in Pennfylvania decided in favour of its adoption, notwithftanding the moft popular arts were ufed to prejudice them againft it. The Germans are but little addiaed to convivial pleafmes. Te.ey feldom meet for the fimple purpofe of eating and drinking in what are juftly called " feeding " pariies" ; but th«y are not ftrangers to the virtue of hofpitality.—The hungry or benighted traveller, is always fure to find a hearty welcome under their roofs. A gentleman of Irifh extraaion, who loft hi; way in travelling through Lancafter county, called late at night at the door of a German farmer. He was kindly received and entertained with the beft of every thing the houfe afforded. The next morning, he offered to pay his hoft for his lodging, and other accommodations : " No" faid the friendly German, in broken Englifh—« 1 will take nothing t( from you. I was once loft, and entertained, as « you have been, at the houfe of a ftranger who « would take no pay from me for his trouble. I " am therefore now only difcharging that debt: « do you pay your debt to me in the fame way t< to fomebody elfe."—- They are extremely kind and friendly as neighbours. • They often alhft each other by loans of money for 238 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN a fhort time, without intereft, when the purchafe of a plantation makes a larger fum neceflary than is commonly poffefsed by a fingle farmer. To fecure their confidence, it is neceflary to be punaual. They never lend money a fecond time, to a man who has once difappointed them in paying what he had bor- rowed agreeably to his promife or obligation. It was remarked, during the late war, that there were very few inftances of any of them difch?rging a bond, or a debt, with depreciated paper money. It has been faid, that the Germans are deficient in learning; and that in confequence of their want of more general and extenfive education, they are much addiaed to fuperftition, and are "frequently impofed upon in the management of their affairs. Many of them have loft valuable eftates by being unacquainted with the common forms of law, in the moft fimpk tranfaaions; and many more of them have loft their lives, by applying to quacks in fick- nefs : but this objeaion to the Germans will foon ccafe to have any foundation in Pennfylvania. Seve- ral young men, bo*n of German parents, have been educated in law, phyfic and divinity, who have dc- monftrated by their abilities and knowledge, that the German genius for literature has not depreciated in America. A college has lately been founded by, the ftate in Lancafter,f and committed chiefly to the care •f This college is callad alter Dr. Vrankm:-, who was prefident of the fr ire at riiet:mj it was rounded, ar.J who co.'v i'juted very liberally to its funis. INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. of the Germans of all feas, for the purpofe of diflu- fing learning among their children. In this college they are to be taught the German and Englifh lan- guages, and all thofe branches of literature which are ufually taught in the colleges of Europe and America. The principal of this college is a native of Pennfylvania, of German parentage.* His extenfive knowledge and tafte in the arts and fciences, joined with his induftry in the difcharge of the duties of his ftation, have afforded to the friends of learning in Pennfylvania, the moft flattering profpeas of the future importance and ufefulnefs of this inftitution, Both fexes of the Germans difcover a ftrong propen- fity to vocal and inftrumental mufic. They excel, in pfalmody, all the ether religious fockties in the ftate. The freedom and toleration of the government has produced a variety of feas, among the Germans in Pennfylvania. The Lutherans compofe a great propor- tion of the German citizens of the ftate. Many of their churches are large and fplendid. The German Prefbyte- rians are the next to them in numbers. Their churches are likewife large and furnifhed, in many places, with organs. The clergy, belonging to thefe churches, have moderate falaries, but they are punaually and juftly paid. In the country they have glebes which are flocked and occafionally worked by their congregations. The ' The Revarcrtd Dr. Honry Muhlenberg. 24^ AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN extra expences of their minifters, in all their excurfioni to their ecclefiaftical meetings, arc borne by their ref- peaive congregations. By this means the difcipline and general intereftis of their churches are preferved and promoted. The German Lutherans and Prcfby- terians live in great harmony with each other, infomuch that they often preach in each other's churches, and in fome inftances unite in building a church, in which they both worfhip at different times. This harmony between two feas, one fo much oppofed to e.;ch other, is owing to the relaxation of the Pvefbyterians in fome of the peculiar doarines cf Calvamfm. I have called them Prefbyterians, becaufe moft of them objea to being defignated by the name of Cilvanifts. The Menonifts, the Moravians, the Sw'mgrieJders, and the Catholics, compofe the other feas of the German inha- bitants of Pennfylvania. The Menonifts hold war and oaths to be unlawful. They admit the facraments of baptifm, by fprinkling, and the fupper. From them a lea Las arifen, who hold, with th.i above principles and ceremonies, the neceffity of immerfion baptifm ; hence they are called Dunkers, or Baptifts. Prcvioufly to their partaking of the facrament of the fupper, they wafh each other's feet, and fit down to a love-feaft. They praaice thefe ceremonies of their religion with great humility and fokmnity. They, moreover, hold the doarine of univerfal falvation. From this ka there have been feveral feceders, one of whom devoted themfelves to perpetual celibacy. They have exhibited INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 24 J- for many years, a curious fpeaacle of pious mortifica- tion, at a village called Ephrata, in Lancafter county^ They are at prefent reduced to fourteen or fifteen members. The Separatifis who likewife diffented from the Dunkers, rejea the ordinances of baptifm and the facrament; and hold the doarine of the Friends, con- cerning the internal revelation of the gofpel. They hold, with the Dunkers, the doarine of univerfal fal- vation. The lingular piety, and exemplary morality c£ thefe feas, have been urged, by the advocates for the falvation of all mankind, as a proof that the belief of that doarine is not fo unfriendly to morals, and the order of fociety, as has been fuppofed. The Dunkers and Separatifis agree in taking no intereft upon money, and in not applying to law to recover their debts. The German Moravians are a numerous and refpec- tabk body of chriftians in Pennfylvania. In thei r village of Bethlehem, there are two large ftone buildings, in which the different fexes are educated in habits of induftry in ufeful manufaaures. The fitters (for by that epithet the women are called) all fleep in two large and neat apartments. Two of them watch over the reft, in turns, every night, to afford relief from thofe fudden indifpofitions which fometimes occur, in the moft healthy perfons, in the hours of fleep. It is impoflible to record this faa, without paufing a moment to do homage to that religion, which pro- Ii 242 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN duces fo much union and kindnefs in human fouls-. The number of women, who belong to this fequeft- ered female fociety, amounts fometimes to 120, and ffldom to lefs than 100. It is remarkable that not- withftanding they lead a fedentary life, and fet con- ftantly inclofe ftove-rooms in winter, that not more than one of them, upon an average, dies in a year. The difeafe which generally produces this annual death, is the confumptioH. The conditions and ages of the women of the village, as well as of the fociety that has been mentioned, are diftinguifhed by ribbons of a peculiar kind which they wear on their capa: the widows, by white ; the married women, by blue; the fingle women, above 18 years of age, by pink; and thofe under that age, by a ribbon of a cinnamon colour. Formerly this body of Moravians held all their property in common in imitation of the pr imi- tive chriftians; but, in the year 1760, a divifion of the whole of it took place, except a tavern, a tan-yard, 2*000 acres of land near Bethlehem, and 5000 acres near Nazareth, a village in the neigbourhood of Bethlehem. The profits of thefe eftates are appropri- ated to the fupport and propagation of the gofpel. There are many valuable manufaaures carried on at Bethlehem. The inhabitants poffefs a gentknefs in their manners, which is peculiarly agreeable to ftrangers. They inure their children, of five and fix years old, to habits of early induftry. By this means they are not only taught thofe kinds of labor which are fuited to INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 243 their ftrength and capacities, but are preferved from many of the hurtful vices and accidents to which children are expofed. The Swingfielders are a fmall fociety. They hold the fame principles as the Friends, but they differ from them in ufing pfalmody in their worfhip. The German Catholics are numerous in Philadelphia, and have feveral fmall chapels iu other parts of the ftate. There is an incorporated charitable fociety of Germans in Philadelphia, whofe objeas are their poor and diftreffed countrymen. There is likewife a German fociety of labourers and journeymen mechanics, who contribute 2S. 6d. eight times a year, towards a fund, out of which they allow 30s. a week to each other's families, when the head of it is unable to work; and 7I. 10s to his widow, as foon as he is taken from his family by death. The Germans of Pennfylvania, including all the feas that have been mentioned, compofe nearly one third part of the whole inhabitants of the ftate. The intercourfe of the Germans with each other, is kept up chiefly in their own language ; but moft of their men, who vifit the capital, and the trading or country towns of the ftate, fpeak the Englifh Ian- 244 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN guage. A certain number of the laws of the ftate are now printed in German, for the benefit of thofe of them who cannot read Englifh. A large number of German news-papers are likewife circulated through the ftate, through which knowledge and intelligence have been conveyed, much to the advantage of the go- vernment. There is fcarcely an inftance of a German, of either fex, in Pennfylvania, that cannot read; but many of the wives and daughters of the German far- mers cannot write. The prefent ftate of fociety among them renders this accomplifhment of little confequence to their improvement or happinefs. If it were poflible to determine the amount of all the property brought into Pennfylvania by the prefent German inhabitants of the ftate, and their anceftors, and then compare it with the prefent amount of their property, the contraft would form fuch a monument of human induftry and (economy as has feldom been contemplated in any age or country. I have been informed that there was an ancient prophecy which foretold, that " God would blefs " the ^Germans in foreign countries." This predic- tion has been faithfully verified in Pennfylvania. They enjoy here every blefling that liberty, toleration, independence, affluence, virtue and reputation, can confer upon them. How different is their fituation here ; from what it was in Germany! Could the fubjeas of the prince* INHABITANTS OF PENNSYLVANIA. 245 of Germany, who now groan away their lives in flavery and unprofitable labour, view fram an emi- nence, in the month of June, the German fettkments of Stratfburg, or Manheim in Lancafter county, or of Lebanon or Bethlehem in the counties of Dauphin and Northampton ; could they be accompanied on this eminence, by a venerable German farmer, and be told by him that many of thofe extenfive fields of grain, full-fed herds, luxuriant meadows, orchards, promifing loads of fruit, together with, the fpacious barns—and commodious flone-dwelling houfes, which compofe the profpeas that have been mentioned, were all the produa of the labour of a fingle fa- mily, and of one generation ; and that they were all fecured to the owners of them by certain laws; I am perfuaded, that no chains would be able to detain them from fharing in the freedom of their Pennfyl- vania friends and former fellow-fubjeas. " We will affert our dignity—(would be their language) we will be men—we will be free—we will enjoy the fruits of our own labours—we will no longer be bought and fold to fight battles—in which we have neither intereft nor refentment—we will inherit a portion of that bleffing which God has promifed to the Germans in foreign countries—we will be Pennfylvanians." I fhall conclude this account of the manners of the German inhabitants of Pennfylvania by remark- \ 246 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN ingthat if I have failed in doing them juftice, it has not been the fault of my fubjea. The German charaaer once employed the pen of one of the firft hiftorians of antiquity. I mean the elegant and enlightened Tacitus. It is very remarkable that the Germans in Pennfylvania retain in a great degree all the virtues, which this author afcribes to their anceftors in his treatife " de moribus Germanorum".— They inherit their integrity—fidelity—and chaftity— but chriftianity has banifhed from them, their drun- kennefs, idlenefs, and love of military glory. There is a fingular trait in the features of the German charaaer in Pennfylvania, which fhews how long the moft trifling cuftoms may exift among a people who have not been mixed with other nations. Tacitus defcribes the manner in which the ancient Germans build their villages in the following words. " Suam quifque domum fpatiis circumdat five adverfus cafus ignis remedium, five infcitia adificandi."\ Many of the German villages in Pennfylvania are conftruc- ted in the fame manner. The fmall houfes are com- pofed of a mixture, of wood, brick and clay, neatly united together. The large houfes are built of ftone, and many of them after the Englifh fafhion. Very few of the houfes in Germantown are conneaed together. —Where the Germans connea their houfes in their ■J- Each inin leaves a fpice between his houfe, and thofe of his neigh- bours, either to ^v\,ia the danger fiom fire, or from ur.fui.fulncf. ia fc-chitecinre. INHABITANTS OS PENNSYLVANIA. 24? villages, they appear to have deviated from one of the cuftoms they imported from Germany. Citizens of the United States learn from the account that has been given of the German inhabitants of Pennfylvania, to prize knowledge and induftry in agriculture and manufaaures, as the bafis of domeftic happinefs and national profperity. Legislators of the United States, learn from/he wealth, and independence of the German inhabitants of Pennfylvania, to encourage by your example, and laws, the republican virtues of induftry and economy. They are the only pillars which can fupport the prefent conftitution of the United States. Legislators of Pennfylvania,—learn from the hiftory of your German fellow citizens that you pof- fefs an inexhauftible treafure in the bofom of the ftate, in their manners and arts. Continue to patro- nize their newly eftabiifhed feminary of learning and fpare no expenfe in fupporting their public free-fchools. The vices which follow the want of religious inftruaion, among the children cf poor people, lay the foundation of moft of the jails, and places of public punifhment in the ftate. Da not contend wifh their prejudices in favour of their language. It will be the channel through which the knowledge and difcoveries of one of the wifeft nations in Europe, may be conveyed into our coun- 248 AN ACCOUNT OF THE GERMAN try. In proportion as they are inftruaed and en- lightened in their own language, they will become acquainted with the language of the United States. Invite them to fhare in the power and offices of go- vernment : it will be the means of producing an union in principle and condua between them, and thofe of their enlightened fellow-citizens who are defcended from other nations. Above all, cherifh with peculiar tendernefs, thofe feas among them who hold war to be unlawful.—Relieve them from the oppreffion of abfurd and unneceflary militia laws. Protea them as the repofitories of a truth of the gofpel, which has exifted in every age of the church, and which muft fpread hereafter over every part of the world. The opinions refpeaing the commerce and flavery of the Africans, which have nearly produced a revo- lution in their favour, in fome of the European go- vernments, were tranfplanted from a ka of chriftians in Pennfylvania. Perhaps thofe German feels of chriftians among us, who refufe to bear arms for the purpofe of fhedding hum?n blood, may be preferved by divine providence, as the centre of a circle, which fhall gradually embrace all the nations of the earth in a per- petual treaty of friendfhip and peace. Thoug&ts ofc Common S&nse. THE human mind in common with other branches of philosophy, has become the subject of attention in the present age of free and general enquiry. While new facul- ties are discovering in it, it will conduce equal to our acquir- ing a perfect knowledge of its powers, to detect and remove such supposed faculties as do not belong to it. t have long suspected the term common sense to be applied improperly to designate a faculty of the mind. I shall not re- peat the accounts which have been given of it by Cicero— Burner—.Berkely—Shaftesbury—.Bentely—Fenelon—Locke Hume—Hobs—.Priestly and others, all of whom agree in de- scribing it as a /acuity or part of a faculty, possesing a quick and universal perception of right and wrong, truth and error, and oi propriety and impropriety in human affairs. I shall copy, as the substance of all that those authors have said upon this subject, Dr. Reid's account of common sense, published in the 2d. chapter of the sixth number of his Essays on the intellectual powers of man.—" It is absurd to concieve " (says the Doctor) that there can be any opposition between " reason and common sense. It is the first born of reason, " and, as they are commonly joined together in speech and " writing, they are inseperable in their nature." " We ascribe to reason two offices or two degrees. The fil-st u is to judge of things self-evident; the second is to draw con- K k S50 THOUGHTS On common sensk. " elusions that are not self-evident from things that are. The * first of these is the province, and the sole province, of com- ** mon sense, and therefore it coincides with reason in its whole " extent, and is only another name for one branch or one de- ** gree of reason." " There is an obvious reason why this degree of reason (t should have a name appropriated to it, and that is, that in " the greatest part of mankind no other degree of reason is to " be found. It is this degree of reason that entitles them to ct the denomination of reasonable creatures." u These two degrees of reason differ in other respects, " which would be sufficient to entitle them to distinct names. " The first is the gift of heaven—the second is learned by " practice and rules, when the first is not wanting." ■ ■ Thus far Dr. Reid. It is with great diffidence that I object to any thing that comes from a gentleman from whose writings I have derived so much entertainment and instruction, and who has done so much towards removing the rubbish that has for many ages obscured the science of metaphysicks. This diffidence to offer a single objection to Dr. Reid's opinion upon the subject under consideration, is encreased by the groupe of popular and respectable names under which he has supported it. The idea which I have adopted of common sense is plain and simple. I consider it as the perception of things as they appear to the greatest part of mankind. It has no relation to their being true or false, right or wrong, proper or improper. For the sake of perspicuity, I shall define it to be, Opinion* THOUGHTS ON COMMON SKXSE. 251 and Feelings in unison with the Opinions and FeelMgs of the bulk of mankind. From this definition it is evident that common sense must necessarily differ in different ages and countries and, in both, must vary with the progress of taste, science, and religion. In the uncultivated state of reason, the opinions and feelings of a majority of m.uikind will be wrong, and, of course, their common or universal sense will partake of their errors. In the cultivated state of reason, just opinions and feelings will become general, and the common sense of the majority will be in unison with truth. I beg leave to illustrate what I mean by a few examples. I. There are many things which were contrary to common sense in former ages, both In philosophy and religion, which are now universally believed, insomuch that to call them in question is to discover a want of judgment, or a defective edu- cation. 2. It is contrary to common sense to speak or write in favdur of republicanism, in several European countries ; and iris equally contrary to it to speak or write in favour of monarchy, in the United States of America. 3. The common sense of the planters in Jamaica, is in fa- vour of the commerce and slavery of the Africans.—In Penn- sylvania, reason, humanity, and common sense, have univer- sally declared against them. 4. In Turkey, it is contrary to the common sense of de- licacy which prevails in that country for a gentleman to dance with a lady. No such common sense prevails in any of th« western countries of Europe, or in the States of America. 252 THOUGHTS ON COMMON SENSE. 5. It is contrary to the common sense of many numerous sects to believe that it is possible for men to go to heaven, who do not embrace their principles, or mode of worship___ Among rational men, this common sense is contrary to truth and christian religion. 6. The common sense of mankind has generally been in favour of established modes and habits of practice, in medi- cine. Opium, bark, mercury and the lancet have all forced their way into general use, contrary to this common sense. Their utility is a proof how little common sense accords with the decisions of reason, and how improperly it is supposed to be a pan of that noble power of the mind. 7. It is agreable to the common sense of a great part of of mankind, to revenge public and private injuries by wars and and duels, and yet no wise or just reason has ever been given to justify the practice of either of them. 8. The common sense of the bulk of the inhabitants of the British Dominions, and of the United States, is in favour qf hoys ppending four or five years in learning the Latin and Gxeek languages, in order to qualify them to understand the English language. Those persons who recollect that the most perfect language in the world, viz. the Greek, was learned with- out the medium or aid of a dead or foreign language, consider the above practice (founded in common sense) as contra- ry,to right reason and productive of many evils in education. But further, under this head. The common sense of the same immense proportion of people, is in favour of teach- ing boys words, before they are taught ideas. Now na- ture and right reason both revolt at this absurd practice. THOUGHTS ON CQMMON SENSE* 312 9. The common sense of nearly all nations, is in favour of preventing crimes by the punishment of death, but right rea- son, policy, and the experience of a wise and enlightened prince,! all concur in proving that the best means of preven- ting crimes, is by living and not by dead examples. Jn the perfection of knowledge, common sense and truth will be in unison with each other. It is now more related to error than to truth, and in the sense in which I have described it, it implies more praise than censure to want it. To say that a man has common sense, is to say that he thinks with his age or country, in their false, as well as their true opinions ; and the greater the proportion of people, he acts and thinks with, the greater share he possesses of this com- mon sense.—After all that has been said in its favour, I can- not help thinking that it is the characteristic only of commqp minds. To think and act with the majority of mankind, when they are right, and differently from them, when they are wrong, constitutes in my opinion, the perfection of human wisdom and Conduct. The feelings and opinions of mankind are often confounded ; but they are widely different from each other. There may be just feelings connected with erroneous opinions and conduct. This is often the case in religion and government—But, in general, opinions and feelings are just and unjust in equal de- grees, according to the circumstance of age, country, and the progress of knowledge before mentioned. t Leopold, Emperor of Germany. *54 t:hught3 on common sense. Had this common sense depended upon the information of any one of the Jive external senses, I should have had no difficulty in admiring Dr. Reid's account of it, inasmuch as the per- ceptions they afford are the same, in their nature, in all heal- thy men, and in all ages and countries. But to suppose it to be an inferior degree, or the first act of reason, and afterwards to suppose it to be universal, is to contradict every thing that history and observation teach us of human nature.* In matters addressed to our reason, the principal business ef reason is to correct the evidence of our senses. Indeed, the perception of truth, in philosophy, seems to consist in little else than in the refutation of the ideas acquired from the testi- mony of our senses. In the progress of knowledge, when the exact connection between the senses and reason is perfect- ly understood, it is probable that the senses and reason will be in unison with each other, and that mankind will as sud- denly connect the evidence of all the senses with the decisions of reason, as they now connect, with certainty, the distance of objects with the evidence of the eyes. This general uni- son between the senses and reason, as in the case of vision, fnust be the result only of experience and habit. I cannot dismiss this subject without adding the following remark. Mankind are governed, says Mr. Bayle, by their prejudices^ and not by their principles. To do them good, we must, in some measure, conform to those prejudices;—-hence we find * The King of Prussia, in his posthumous works, says, •• Kesson never did any thing great," by which he must have ment the common degrees of it, or what is called, by Dr. Keid, common sense. THOUGHTS ON COMMON SENSE. 256 the most acceptable men in practical society, have been those who have never shocked their cotemporaries, by opposing popular or common opinions. Men of opposite characters, like objects placed too near the eye, are seldom seen distinct- ly by the age in which they live. They must content them- selves with the prospect of being useful to the distant and more enlightened generations which are to follow them. Gali- leo, who asked pardon of the Pope, on his knees, for contra- dicting the common sense of the, church, respecting the revo- lution of the earth, and Dr. Harvey, who lost all his business by refuting the common sense of former ages, respecting the circulation of the blood, now enjoy a reputation for their opin- ions and discoveries, which has in no instance ever been given to the cold blood of common sense. April 3rf. 1791. An account or the vices peculiar to the Indians of North America. IT has become fashionable of late years for the philosophers of Europe to celebrate the virtues of the savages of America. Whether the design of their encomiums was to expose Chris- tianity, and depreciate the advantages of civilization, I know not; but they have evidently had those effects upon the minds of weak people. Without contradicting the accounts that have been published by those gentlemen, of the virtues of the In- dians in North America, I shall briefly add an account of some of their vices, in order to complete their natural history. My information shall be taken from the travels of Charlevoix Hennepen—Carver—Rornans and Bartram, and from conver- sations with persons of veracity who have resided among them. The first vice I shall name, that is universal among our sav- ages, is UNCLEANNESS. They are, in general, stran- gers to the obligations both of morality and decency, as far as they relate to the marriage bed.—The exceptions to this re- mark, have been produced among those nations chiefly, who have had an occasional intercourse with civilized nations. 2. NASTINESS is another Indian vice; This is exempli- fied in their food—drinks—.dress—.persons—and above all, in their total disregard to decency in the time-—place—'and manner of their natural evacuations. PECULIAR TO THE INDIANS. 257 3. DRUNKENNESS is a more general vice among sav- ages than among civilized nations.—.Whole Indian tribes have been destroyed by it. Indeed they glory in their fondness for strong liquors, and consider it as a part of their character. A countryman who had dropt from his cart a keg of rum, rode back a few miles in hopes of finding it. On his way he met an Indian who lived in his neighbourhood, whom he ask- ed if he had seen his keg of rum on the road ? The Indian laughed in his face, and addressed him in the following words. " What a fool you are to ask an Indian such a question. Don't " you see I am sober ? Had I met with your keg, you would " have found it empty on one side of the road, and Indian " Tom drunk and asleep on the other." 4. GLUTTONY is very cdmmon among Indians. To this their long abstinence, produced by their idleness, naturally tempts them.—It is very common to see them stretch them- selves on the ground after a full meal, and grunt there for sev- eral hours till they recover from the effects of their intemper- ance. Mr. Bartram tells us, that they sometimes rise in the middle of the night, in order to gratify their appetites for eating. 5. TREACHERY is another Indian vice. Who ever trust- ed to an Indian treaty ?—They generally begin their wars, with professions of peace and perpetual friendship. 6 The CRUELTY of Indians is well known. They consi- der compassion as a mark of effeminacy. Their treatment of their prisoners, shews them to possess a spirit of revenge> which places them upon a footing with infernal spirits. 7 IDLENESS is the universal vice of savages. They are not only too lazy to work, but even to think. Nothing but the L 1 25$ AN ACCOUNT OF THE VICES powerful stimulus of hunger, or revenge, is sufficient to rouse them into action. 8. THEFT is an Indian vice. The Indians not only steal from their civilized neighbours, but from each other. A horse __-x gun—*or spirits, have charms in the eyes of an Indian that no restraints can prevent his stealing, whenever they come in his way. 9. GAMING belongs in an eminent degree to the Cata- logue of Indian vices. 10. But the infamy of the Indian character is completed by the low rank to which they degrade their women. It is well known, that their women perform all their work. They not only prepare their victuals, but plant, hoe and gather their corn and roots. They are seldom admitted to their feasts, or share in their conversation. The men oblige them to lie at their feet, when they sleep without fire ; and at their backs when they sleep before a fire. They afford them no assistance in the toil of tending, feeding, and carrying their children. They are even insensible of the dangers to which their women are often exposed in travelling with them. A gentleman from Northumberland county, informed me, that he once saw a bo- dy of Indian men and women wading across the river Susque- hannah. The men arrived first on the opposite shore, and pursued their journey along the river. The women, some of Whom had children on their backs, upon coming to a deep and rapid current, suddenly cried out for help, and made signs to their husbands and fathers to come to their assistance. The men stood for a few minutes—and after attentively surveying their distress, bursted out a laughing, and then with a merry indifference, walked from them along the shore. PECULIAR TO THE INDIANS. 259 This is a short nomenclature of the vices of the' Indians of North America. If it were necessary, I would quote the chap- ters and pages of the authors who have established, by their observations, the truth of the character I have given of them. I am not disposed to enter into an examination of their virtues, but I cannot help supposing them to be rather the qualities of necessity, than the offspring of feeling, or principle. Their hospitalitiy—.their friendships—their patience—and their fi- delity to engagements, are the effects of necessity, and are as essential to their existence, as honesty is to a band of associated robbers. Their politeness in never contradicting any person, I believe is the effect of indolence, for I know of nothing that lazy people dislike more than to dispute, even where truth is on their side, or where victory is certain.—iWhere is the man that in a lazy fit (to which all men at times are subject) has not heard false and absurd opinions advanced in company, without contradicting them ? The taciturnity of the Indians which has been so much cele- brated, as a mark of their wisdom, is the effect of their want of ideas. Except in cases of extraordinary pride, I believe taciturnity, in nine cases out often, in civilized company, is the effect of stupidity. I will make one more exception to this rule, and that is in favour of those people who are in the habits of communicating their thoughts, by writing for the public, or by corresponding with their friends. Ideas, whe- ther acquired from books, or by reflection, produce a plethora in the mind, which can only be relieved by depletion fr°m the pen, or tongue. But what shall we say to the encomiums that have been lavished upon the love of liberty which characterizes our sav- age neighbours I— Why—that they arise from an ignorance 260 AN' ACCOUNT OF THE VICES of the influence of property, upon the human -mind.—.Proper- ty, and a regard for law, are born together in all societies. The passion for liberty in an Indian, is as different from the passion for it in a civilized republican, as the impurity of lust, is, from the delicacy of love. There is a certain medium to be observed between an affection for law, and for liberty. An excess of the former has sometimes led to tyranny, while an excess of the latter, leads to idleness and vice. The Athe- nians appear to have been intoxicated with an excess of liberty when they spent their whole time in hearing and telling news. There is always an excess of law or liberty in a community where poor men are idle, or where vices of any kind are suf- fered with impunity. The only reflections that I shall add upon this subject, shall be, how are the blessings of civil government which exter pates, restrains, or punishes the vices that have been men- tioned! and how, great is the efficacy of Christianity, which, by purifying the heart, renders the practice of the contra- ry virtues natural and agreeable ? Observations upon the influence of the hap.itual use of Tobacco upon health, morals, and property. WERE it possible for a being who had resided upoh our globe, to visit the inhabitants of a planet, where reason governed, and to tell them that a vile weed was in gene- ral use among the inhabitants of the globe it had left, which afforded no nourishment—that this weed was cultivated with immense care—that it was an important article of com- merce—that the want of it produced real misery—that its taste was extremely nauseous, that it was unfriendly to health and morals, and that its use was attended with a considerable loss of time and property, the account would be thought incredible, and the author of it would proba- bly be excluded from society, for relating a story of so im- probable a nature. In no one view, is it possible to con- template the creature man in a more absurd and ridicu- lous light, than in his attachment to Tobacco. This weed is of a stimulating nature whether it be used in smoaking, chewing or in snuff. Like opium and spiritou5 liquors, it is sought for in all those cases where the body is debilitated indirectly by intemperance in eating, or by excessive application to study, or business, or directly by sedative pas- sions of the mind, particularly by grief and fear. Persons after losing relations or friends by death, often resort to it. One of the greatest snuffers I ever knew, used it for the first time, in order to console her under a presentiment she enter- tained, that she should die in childbed. Fear creates a desire for Tobacco. Hence it is used in a greater quantity by sol- ~S2 OBSERVATIONS ON THE diers and sailors than by other classes of people. It is used most profusely by soldiers when they act as picket guards, or centinels, and by sailors in stormy weather. Persons la- bouring under that state of madness which is accompanied with a sense of misery, are much devoted to it, hence the tenants of mad-houses often accost their attendants and visit- ors, with petitions for Tobacco, The progress of habit in the use of Tobacco is exactly the same as in the use of spiritous liquors. The slaves of it begin, by using it only after dinner—then during the whole after- noon and evening, afterwards before dinner, then before breakfast, and finally during the whole night. I knew a lady who had passed through all these stages, who used to wake regularly two or three times every night to compose her sys- tem with fresh doses of snuff. Again—the progress in the decay of the sensibility of the nose to the stimulus of snuff is analogous to the decay of the sensibility of the stomach, to the stimulus of spiritous liquors. It feels for a while the action of Rappee ; next it requires Scotch snuff, afterwards Irish- black-guard—and finally it is affected only by a composition of Tobacco and ground glass. This mixture is to the nose, what Cayenne pepper and Jamaica spirits are to the stomachs of habitual dram drinkers. The appetite for Tobacco is wholly artificial. No person was ever bom with a relish for it. Even in those persons who are much attached to it, nature frequently recovers her disrel- ish to it. It ceases to be agreeable in every febile indispo- sition. This is so invariably true, that a disrelish to it is of- ten a sign of an approaching, and a return of the appetite for tc, a sign of a departing fever. USE OF TOBACCO. 2 S3 In considering the pernicious effects of Tobacco, I shall begin agreeably to the order I have laid down, by taking no- tice of its influence upon health ; and here I shall mention its effects not only upon the body, but upon the mind. 1. It impairs the appetite. \Vhere it does not produce this effect, 2. It prevents the early and complete digestion of the food, and thereby induces distressing, and incurable diseases not only of the stomach, but of the whole body. This effect of Tobacco is the result of the waste of the saliva in chewing, and smoking, or of the Tobacco insinuating itself into the stomach, when used in chewing, or snuffing.-=-----1 once lost a young man of 17 years of age, of a pulmonary con- sumption, whose disorder was brought on by the intemperate use of segars. 3. It produces many of those diseases which are supposed to be seated in the nerves. The late Sir John Prlngle was subject in the evening of his life to tremors in his hands. In his last visit to France, a few years before he died, in compa- ny with Dr. Franklin, he was requested by the Doctor to ob- serve, that the same disorder was very common among those people of fashion who were great snuffers. Sir John was led by this remark to suspect that his tremors were occasioned by snuff which he took in large quantities. He immediately left off taking it, and soon afterwards recovered the perfect use of his hands. I have seen head-ache, vertigo, and epilepsy produced by the use of Tobacco. A Physician in Connecti- cut has remarked that it has in several instances produced pal- sy and apoplexy ; and Dr. Tissot ascribes sudden death in one instance, to the excessive use of it in smoaking. 264 OBSERVATIONS ON THE 4. A citizen of Philadelphia lost all his teeth by drawing the hot smoke of Tobacco into his mouth by means of a short pipe, and I have been informed of a cancer on the lip, which terminated fatally from the same cause, in a farmer in Nor- thumberland county in this state. The acrid nature of the matter which is mixed with the smoke of the Tobacco may easily be discovered by the taste or smell of a pipe stem that has been in use for two or three weeks. 5. Tobacco when used in the form of snuff seldom fails of impairing the voice by obstructing the nose. It moreover imparts to the complexion a disagreeable dusky colour. I have thus briefly enumerated the morbid effects of Tobac- co upon the human body. It remains under this head to mention, that the want of it is a source of uneasiness more distressing than many bodily disorders. This uneasiness in persons who have long been accustomed to the use of Tobac- co has in some instances produced an agitation of mind that has bordered upon distraction. Colonel Burr informed me that the greatest complaints, dissatisfaction and suffering that he heard the soldiers who accompanied General Arnold in his march from Boston to Quebec through the wilderness, in the year 1775, were from the want of Tobacco. This was the more remarkable, as they were so destitute of provisions as to be obliged to kill, and eat their dogs. The Persians, we are told by travellers, expatriate themselves, when thSy are forbidden the use of Tobacco, in order to enjoy it in a foreign country. These facts will not surprise those persons who have been accustomed to view our appetites when perverted to such things as artificial and disagreeable, to be much more ungovernable than the appetite for things that are originally natural and agreeable. Use of tobacco. 26: But the Use of Tobacco has been known to produce a more serious effect upon the mind than the distress that has been mentioned. Sir John Pringle's memory was impaired by Bnuff. This was proved by his recovering the perfect exer- cise of it after he left off taking snuff agreeably to the advice of his friend Dr. Franklin. Dr. Masillac informed me that his father lost his memory at forty years of age by the exces- sive use of snuff. He took for several years two ounces of it every day. In answer to these observations upon the morbid effects of Tobacco it has been said, 1. That it possesses many medical virtues. I grant it, and the facts which establish its utility in medicine furnish tas with additional arguments against the habitual use of it. How feeble would be the effects of opium and bark upon the the body, if they constituted a part of the condiments of our daily food ;—«While I admit the efficacy of tobacco as a medi- cine, I cannot help adding, that some of the diseases; or symptoms of diseases which it relieves, are evidently induced by the habit of using it. Thus a dram of ardent spirits sus- pends, for a while, a vomiting and tremors of the hands, but who does not know that those complaints, are the effects of the intemperate and habitual use of spiritous liquors ? 2. The advocates for Tobacco, tell us that smoking and snuff relieve that uneasiness which succeeds a plentiful meal. I admit that the stimulars of the Tobacco restores the system from the indirect weakness which is induced by intemper- ance in eating, but the relief which is thus obtained, illy com- pensates for the waste of the saliva in smoking-, at a time M m Zbb i.IiSERVATIONS O*. THE when it h most wanted, or for the mixtre of a portion of the tobacco with the aliment in the stomach by means of snuffing. But why should Ave cure one evil by producing another ? Would it not be much better to obviate the necessity of using Tobacco by always eating a moderate meal ? The recollec- tion of the remedy probably disposes to that intemperance in eating which produces the uneasiness that has been men- tioned. 3. We are sometimes told that Tobacco is a preservative from contagious diseases. But many facts contradict this assertion. Mr. Howard informs us that it had no efficacy in checking the contagion of the plague, and repeated ex- perience in Philadelphia has proved, that it is equally in- effectual in preserving those who use it, from the Influenza and Yellow Fever. 4. It has been further said that chewing and smoking To- bacco assist the intellectual operations. So do wine, and dis- tilled spirits, but shall we upon that account, have recourse to those liquors when we wish to stimulate our thinking facul- ties ? Tea and Coffee are to be preferred, when we wish to stimulate the mind. Mr. Pope recommends a trotting horse for the same purpose. Rousseau excited his invention by walking backwards and forwards in his room. I suspect that Tobacco is often used, rather to supply the want of ideas than to collect, or excite them. The absence of sensation, whether of external impressions upon the body, or of the re- action of the mind in thought, is always accompanied with misery. The Indians afford a striking proof of this remark —.hence they spend whole days and even weeks in smoking, in order to relieve themselves from the anguish which attends the inactivity and vacuum of their minds. LSL OF TOBACCO. 267 We proceed next to mention the influence of the habitual use of Tobacco upon morals. 1. One of the usual effects of smoaking and chewing is thirst. This thirst cannot be allayed by water, for no seda- tive or even insipid liquor will be relished after the mouth and throat hatS been exposed to the stimulus of the smoke, or juice of Tobacco. A desire of course is excited for strong drinks, and these when taken between meals soon lead to in- temperance and drunkenness. One of the greatest sots I ever knew, acquired a love for ardent spirits by swallowing cuds of Tobacco, which he did, to escape detection in the use of it, for he had contracted the habit of chewing, con- trary to the advice and commands of his father. He died of a Dropsy under my care in the year 1780. 2. The use of Tobacco, more especially in smoking, dis- poses to idleness, and idleness has been considered as the root of all evil. " An idle man's brain, (says the celebrated and original Mr. Bunyan) is the Devil's work shop." 3. The use of Tobacco is necessarily connected with the neglect of cleanliness. The influence of this neglect upon morals has been happily pointed out in an extract from cap- tain Cook's journal, which is published by Sir John Pringle in one of his Orations before the Royal Society of London. 4. Tobacco, more especially when used in smoking, is generally offensive to those people who do not use it. To smoke in company under such circumstances, is a breach of good manners; now, manners have an influence upon morals. They may be considered as the out post of virtue. A habit of offending the senses of friends or strangers, by the use of 268 OBSERVATIONS ON THE Tobacco, cannot therefore be indulged with innocence. It produces a want of respect for our fellow creatures, and this always disposes to unkind and unjust behaviour towards them. Wrho ever knew a rude man compleatly, or uniformly moral? The methodists forbad the use of Tobacco in the infancy of their society. The prohibition discovered high and just sense of the self-denial, decency, and universal civility which are required by the gospel. What reception may we sup- pose would the apostles have met with, had they carried into the cities and houses to which they were sent, snuff-boxes, pipes, segars, and bundles of cut, or rolls of hog, or pigtail Tobacco ? Such a costly and offensive apparatus -for gratify- ing their appetites, would have furnished solid objections to their persons and doctrines, and would have been a just cause for the clamours and contempt which were excited against them. It is agreeable to observe that a regard to good man- ners, upon this subject, has at last awakened in some parts of the world. In England smoking is not permitted in ta- verns and coffee-houses until after 10 o'clock at night, and in France snuffing is becoming unfashionable and vulgar. How much is it to be lamented that while the use of Tobacco is de- clining in two of the most enlightned countries in Europe, it is becoming more general in America. Who can see groups of boys of six or eight years old in our streets smoking segars, without anticipating such a depreciation of our pos- terity in health and character, as can scarcely be contemplate ed at this distance of time without pain and horror! It remains now that I briefly point out the influence of the use of tobacco upon time and property. Snuffing makes a great inroad upon time. A man who takes a pinch of snuff every twenty minutes, (which mos; habitual snuffers do) and snuffs USE O? TOBACCO. 269 fifteen hours in four and twenty, (allowing him to consume not quite half a minute every time he uses his box,) will waste a- bout five whole days of every year of his life in this useless, and unwholesome practice. But when we add to the profitable use to which this time might have been applied, the expences of Tobacco, pipes, snuff and spitting boxes—and of the injuries which are done to the cloathing, during a whole life, the ag- gregate sum would probably amount to several hundred dol- lars. To a labouring man this would be a decent portion for a son or daughter, while the same sum, saved by a man in affluent circumstances, would have enabled him by a contribu- tion to a public charity to have lessened a large portion of the ignorance, or misery of mankind. In reviewing the account that*has been given of the disa- greeable and mischievous effects of Tobacco, we are led to enquire, what are its uses upon our globe,—for we are as- sured that nothing, exists in vain. Poison is a relative term, and the most noxious plants have been discovered to afford sustenance to certain animals. But what animal besides man, will take Tobacco into its mouth ? Horses, Cows, Sheep, Cats, Dogs, and even Hogs refuse to taste it. Flies, Musque- toes, and the Moth are chased from our cloaths by the smell of it. But let us not arraign the wisdom and economy of na- ture in the production of this plant. Modern Travellers have Sit last discovered that it constitutes the food of a solitary and filthy wild beast, well known in the deserts of Africa, by the name of the Rock Goat. I shall conclude these observations by relating an Anecdote of the late Dr. Franklin. A few months before his death, he declared to one of his friends that he had never used Tobacco in any way in the course of his long life, and that he Avas dis- ■270 OUM.:t\ AT10NS 0\ THE USE OF TOBACCO. posed to believe there was not much advantage to be derived from it, for that he had nrvcr met with a man who used ii, who »dvised him to follow his example. An ACCOUNT OF THE sugar maple-tree OF THE united STATES: IN A LETTER TO THOMAS JEFFERSON", ESQ. THEN SECRETARY OF STATE OF THE UNITED STATES, AND ONE OF THE- VICE PRESIDENTS OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSO- PHICAL SOCIETY. Dear Sir, IN obedience to your request, I have sat down to commu- nicate to our society, through the medium of a letter to you, a short account of the Sugar Maple-Tree of the United States, together with such facts and remarks as I have been able to collect, upon the methods of obtaining sugar from it, and up- on the advantages both public and private, of this Sugar. The Acer Sacharinum of Linnseus, or the Sugar Maple-tree, grows in great quantities in the western counties of all the Middle States of the American Union. Those which grow in New-York and Pennsylvania yield the sugar in a greater quantity than those which grow on the waters of the Ohio.—. AN ACCOUNT OF THE SUGAR MAI'LK TREE. J 7 1 These trees are generally found mixed with the Beech, (a) Hemlock, (b) White and water Ash, (c) the Cucumber tree, (d) Linden, (e) Aspen, (f) Butter Nut, (g) and Wild Cher- ry trees (h). They sometimes appear in groves covering five or six acres in a body, but they are more commonly in- terspersed with some, or all of the forest trees which have been mentioned. From 30 to 50 trees are generally found upon an acre of ground. They grow only in the richest soils and frequently in stony ground. Springs of the purest water abound in their neighbourhood. They are, when fully grown, as tall as the white and black oaks, and from two to three feet in diameter.* They put forth a beautiful white blossom in the Spring before they show a single leaf. The colour of the blossom distinguishes them from the acer rubrum, or the common maple, which affords a blossom of a red colour. The wood of the Sugar Maple-tree is extremely inflammable, and is prefered upon that account by hunters and surveyors for fire wood. Its small branches are so much impregnated with sugar as to afford support to the cattle, horses, and and sheep of the first settlers during the winter, before they are able to cultivate forage for that purpose. Its ashes afford (a) Fagus Ferruginea. (b) Pinus abies. (c) Fraxinus Americana, (d) Magnolia acuminata, (e) Tilia Ameri- cana, (f) Populus tremula.. (g) Juglans alba (oblonga.) (h) Prunus Virginiana, of Linnxus. * Baron La Hontan, in his voyage to North America, gives the following account of the Muple-tree in Canada. After describing the black Cherry-tree, some of which he says are as tall as the loftiest oaks, and as big as a hogs- head, he adds, " The Maple-tree is much of the same heigiit " and bulk. It bears no resemblance to that sort we have in " Europe." 272 AN ACCOUNT OF a great quantity of pot ash, exceeded by few, or perhaps by none of the trees that grow in the woods of the United States. The tree is supposed to arrive at its full growth in the woods in twenty years. It is not injured by tapping ; on the contrary, the oftner it is tapped, the more syrup is obtained from it. In this re- spect it follows a law of animal secretion. A single tree has not only survived, but flourished after forty-two tappings in" the same number of years. The effects of a yearly discharge of sap from the tree in improving and increasing the sap, is de- monstrated from the superior excellence of those trees which have been perforated in an hundred places, by a small wood- pecker which feeds upon the sap. These trees after having been wounded in this way, distil the remains of their juice on the ground, and afterwards acquire a black colour. The sap of these trees is much sweeter to the taste than that which is obtained from trees which have not been previously wounded, and it affords more sugar. From twenty-three gallons and one quart of sap procured in twenty hours fromonly two of these dark coloured trees, Ar- thur Noble, Esq. of the state of New-York, obtained four pounds and thirteen ounces of good grained sugar. A tree of an ordinary size yields in a good season from twenty to thirty gallons of sap, from which are made from five to six pounds of sugar. To this there are sometimes re- markable exceptions. Samuel Low, Esq. a Justice of Peace in Montgomery county, in the state of New-York, informed Arthur Noble, Esq. that he had made twenty pounds and one ounce of sugar between the 14th and 23d of April, in the THE SUGAR MAPLE-TREE. 373 year 1789, from a single tree that had been tapped for seve- ral successive years before. From the influence which culture has upon forest and other trees, it has been supposed, that by transplanting the Sugar Maple-Tree into a garden, or by destroying such other trees as shelter it from the rays of the Sun, the quantity of the sap might be increased; and its quality much improved. I have heard of one fact which favours this opinion. A farmer in Northampton county, in the state of Pennsylvania, planted a number of these trees above twenty years ago in his meadow from three gallons of the sap of which he obtains every year a pound of sugar. It was remarked formerly that it required five or six gallons of the sap of the trees which grow in the woods, to produce the same quantity of sugar. The sap distils from the wood of the tree. Trees which have been cut down in the winter for the support of the do- mestic animals of the new settlers, yield a considerable quan- tity of sap as soon as their trunks and limbs feel the rays of the Sun in the spring of the year. It is in consequence of the sap of these trees being equal- ly diffused through every part of them, that they live three years after they are girdled, that is, after a circular incision is made through the bark into the substance of the tree for the purpose of destroying it. It is remarkable that grass thrives better under this tree in a meadow, than in situations exposed to the constant action of the Sun. Nn 274 AN ACCOUNT OF The season for tapping the trees is in February, March, and April, according to the weather which occurs in these months. Warm days and frosty nights are most favourable to a plen- tiful discharge of sap.* The quantity obtained in a day from a tree, is from five gallons to a pint, according to the greater or less heat of the air. Mr. Low, informed Arthur Noble, Esq. that he obtained near three and twenty gallons of sap in one day (April 14, 1789.) from the single tree which was be- fore mentioned. Such instances of a profusion of sap in single trees are however not very common. There is always a suspension of the discharge of sap in the night if a frost succeed a warm day. The perforation in the tree is made with an axe or an auger. The latter is prefer- ed from experience of its advantages. The auger is introdu- ced about three-quarters of an inch, and in an ascending di- rection (that the sap may not be frozen in a slow current in the mornings or evenings) and is afterwards depened gra- dually to the extent of two inches. A spout is introduced about half an inch into the hole, made by this auger, and pro- jects from three to twelve inches from the tree. The spout * The influence of the weather in increasing and lessen- ing the discharge of the sap from trees is very remarkable. Dr. Tongue supposed, long ago, (Philosophical Transac- tions, No. 68) that changes in the weather of every kind might be better ascertained by the discharges of sap from trees than by weather glasses. I have seen a journal of the ef- fects of heat, cold, moisture, drought and thunder upon the discharges from the sugar trees, which disposes me to be- lieve there is some foundation for Dr. Tongue's opinion. THE SUGAR MAPLE-TREE. 275 is general-made of the Sumach (a) or Elder, (b) which com- monly grow in the neighbourhood of the sugar trees. The tree is first tapped on the South side ; when the discharge of its sap begins to lesson, an opening is made on its North side, from which an increased discharge takes place. The sap flows from four to six weeks, according to the temperature of the weather. Troughs large enough to contain three or four gallons made of white pine, or white ash, or of dried water ash, aspen, linden, poplar, (c) or common maple, are placed under the spout, to receive the sap, which is carried every day to a large receiver, made of either of the trees before men- tioned. From this receiver it is conveyed, after being strain- ed, to the boiler. To preserve the sap from rain and impurities of all kinds, it is a good practice to cover the troughs with a concave board, with a hole in the middle of it. It remains yet to be determined whether some artificial heat may be applied so as to increase the quantity and im- prove the quality of the sap. Mr. Noble informed me, that he saw a tree, under which a farmer had accidently burnt some brush, which dropped a thick heavy syrup resembling molasses. This fact may probably lead to something useful hereafter. During the remaining part of the spring months, as also in the Summer, and in the beginning of Autumn, the Maple Tree yielda-a thin sap, but not fit for the manufactory of su- gar. It affords a pleasant drink in harvest, and has been used (a) Rhus, (b) Sambucus canadensis, (c) Liriodendron Tuli- pifera. 276 AN ACCOUNT OF instead of rum, in some instances by those farmers in Connecti- cut, whose ancestors have left to them here, and there, a sugar maple tree, (probably to shade their cattle,) in all their fields. Mr. Bruce describes a drink, of the same kind prepared by the inhabitants of Egypt, by infusing the sugar cane in water, which he declares to be " the most refreshing drink in^the world."* There are three methods of xreduceing the sap to sugar. 1. By freezing it; this method has been tried for many years,by Mr. Obediah Scott, a farmer in Luzerne county in this state, with great success. He says that one half of a given quantity of sap reduced in this way, is better than one-third of the same quantity reduced by boiling. If the frost should not be intense enough, to reduce the sap to the graining point, it may afterwards be exposed to the action of the fire for that purpose. 2. By spontaneous evaporation. The hollow stump of a maple-sugar tree, which had been cut down in the spring, and which was found sometime afterwards filled with sugar, first suggested this method of obtaining sugar to our farmers. So many circumstances of cold and dry weather, large and * Baron La Hontan, gives the following account of the sap of the sugar maple-tree, when used as a drink, and of the manner of obtaining it " The tree yields a sap which has a much pleasanter taste than the best lemonade or cherry wa- ter, and makes the wholesomest drink in the world. This liquor is drawn by cutting the tree two inches deep in the wood, the cut being made sloping to the length of ten or twelve inches; at the lower end of this gash, a knife is thrust into the tree slopingly, so that the water runs along the cut or gash, as through a gutter and falls upon the knife, which has some vessels placed underneath to receive it. Some trees THE SUGAR MAPLE TREE. 277 flat vessels, and above all so much time are necessary to ob- tain sugar, by either of the above methods, that the most gene- ral method among our farmers is to obtain it, 3. By boiling. For this purpose the following facts which have been ascertained by many experiments, deserve atten^ tion. 1. The sooner the sap is boiled, after it is collected from the tree, the better. It should never be kept longer than twenty four hours, before it is put over the fire. 2. The larger the vessel in which the sap is boiled, tht more sugar is obtained from it. 3. A copper vessel affords a sugar of a fairer colour than an iron vessel. The sap flows into wooden troughs from which it is carried and poured into stone troughs or large cisterns in the shape of a canoe or large manger made of white ash, linden, bass wood, or white pine, from which it is conveyed to the kettle in which it is to be boiled. These cisterns, as well as the kettle, are generally covered by a shed to defend the sap will yield five or six bottles of this water in a day, and some inhabitants of Canada might draw' twenty hogsheads of it in one day, if they would thus cut and notch all the maple trees of their respective plantations. The gash does no harm to the tree. Of this sap they make sugar and syrup which is so valuable that there can be no better remedy for fortifying the stomach. 'Tis but few of the inhabitants that have the patience to make them, for as common things are slighted, so there are scarce any body, but children that give themselves the trouble of gashing these trees." 278 AN ACCOUNT OF from the rain. The sugar is improved by straining the sap through a blanket or cloth, either before or after it is half boiled. Butter, hogs-lard, or tallow, are added to the sap in the kettle to prevent its boiling over, and lime, eggs or new milk are mixed with it in order to clarify it. I^have seen clear sugar made without the addition of either of them. A spoonful of slack lime, the white of one egg, and' a pint of new-milk are the usual proportions of these articles which are mixed with fifteen gallons of sap. In some samples which I have lately seen of maple-sugar clarified with each of the above articles, that, in which milk alone was used, had an evident superiority over the others, in point of colour. The sugar after being sufficiently boiled, is grained and clayed, and afterwards refined, or converted into loaf sugar. The methods of. conducting each, of these processes is so nearly the same with those which are used in the manufactory of West-India sugar, and are so generally known, that I need not spendi a$y time ift describing them. It has been, a subject of enquiry whether the maple sugar might; not be improved; in its quality and increased in its quantity by-the establishment of boiling houses in the sugar maple country to be conducted by, asMQafedlabor. From the scattered situation of the trees, the difficulty of carrying the sap to a great distance, and from the many expenses which must accrue from supporting labourers and horses ia the voods in a season of the year in which nature affords no sus- tenance to man or beast, I am disposed to believe, that the most productive method, both ur quantity and, profit, of ob- taining this sugac will be by the labour of private families. For a great number of years many hundred private families in New-York and Pennsylvania have supplied themselves THE SUGAR MAPLE-TREE. 279 plentifully with this sugar during the whole year. I have heard of many families who have made from two to four hundred pounds in a year; and of one man who sold six hun- dred pounds, all made with his own hands in one season.* Not more knowledge is necessary for making this sugar than is required to make soap, cyder, beer, sour-crout> &c and yet one or all of these are made in most of the farm houses of the United States. The kettles and other utensils of a farmer*s kitchen, will serve most of the purposes of making sugar, and the time required for the labor, (if it deserves that name) is at a season when it is impossible for the farmer to empldy himself in any species of agriculture. His wife and alFhis children above ten years of age, moreover may assist him in this business, for the profit of the weakest of them is nearly equal to that of a man, when hired for that purpose-. A comparative view of this sugar has been frequently made with the 'sugar which is obtained from the West-India sugar cane, with respect to its quality, price, and the possible or probable quantity that can be made of it in the United States. each of which I shall consider in order. * The following receipts published by William Cooper, Esq. in the Albany Gazette, fully establishes this fact. « Received, Cooper's Town, April 30th, 1790, of William Cooper, sixteen pounds, for ax hundred and forty pounds of sugar made with my own hands, without any assistance in less than four weeks, besides attending to the other business of my farm, as providing fire wood, taking care of the cattle, &c. John Nicholls. Witness R. Smith. A single family, consisting of a man and his two sons, on the maple sugar lands between the Delaware and Susque- hannah made 18001b. of maple sugar in one season. 280 AN ACCOUNT O? 1. The quality of this sugar is necessarily better than that which is made in the West Indies. It is prepared in a sea- son when not a single insect exists to feed upon it, or to mix its excretions with it, and before a particle of dust or of the pollen of plants can float in the 'air. The same observation cannot be applied to the West India sugar. The insects and worms which prey upon it, and of course mix with it, com- pose a page in a nomenclature of natural history. I shall say nothing of the hands which are employed in making sugar in the West Indies, but, that men who work for the exclusive benefit of others, are not under the same obligations to keep their persons clean while they are employed in this work, that men women and children are, who work exclusively for the benefit of themselves, and who have been educated in the hab- its of cleanliness. The superior purity of the maple sugar is farther proved by its leaving a less sediment, when dis- solved in water, than the West India sugar. It has been supposed that the maple sugar is inferior to to the West India sugar in strength. The experiments which led to this opinion, I suspect have been inaccurate, or have been made with maple sugar, prepared in a slovenly manner. I have examined equal quantities, by weight, of both the grained and the loaf sugar, in hyson tea, and in coffee, made in every respect equal by the minutest circumstances that could effect the quality or taste of each of them, and could percieve no inferiority in the strength of the maple sugar. The liquors which decided this question were examined at the same time, by Alexander Hamilton, Esq. Secretary of the Treasury of the United States, Mr. Henry Drinker, and several Ladies, who all concurred in the above opinion. 2. Whoever considers that the gift of the sugar maple trees is from a benevolent Providence, that we have many millions THE SUGAR MAPLE-TREE. 281 of acres in our country covered with them, that the tree is improved by repeated tappings, and that the sugar is obtain- ed by the frugal labour of a farmer's family, and at the same time considers the labour of cultivating the sugar cane, the capitals sunk in sugar works, the first cost of slaves and cattle, the expenses of provisions for both of them, and in some instances the additional expence of conveying the sugar to a market, in all the West India islands, will not hesitate in believing that the maple sugar may be manufactured much cheaper, and sold at a less price than that which is made in the West Indies. 3. The resources for making a sufficient quantity of this sugar not only for the consumption of the United States, but for exportation, will appear from the following facts. There are in the states of New-York and Pennsylvania alone at least ten millions of acres of land which produce the sugar maple-tree, in the proportion of thirty trees to one acre. Now, supposing all the persons capable of labour in a family to consist of three, and each person to attend 150 trees and each tree to yield 5lbs. of sugar in a season, the product of the labour of 60,000 families would be 135,000,000 pounds of sugar, and allowing the inhabitants of the United States to" compose 600,000 families, each of which consumed 200 pounds of sugar in a year, the whole consumption would be 120,000,000 pounds in a year, which would leave a balance of 15,000,000 pounds for exportation. Valuing the sugar at 6-90 of a dollar per pound, the sum saved to the United States would be 8,000,000 dollars by home consumption, and the sum gained by exportation would be, 1,000,000 dollars. The only part of this calculation that will appear improbable is, the number 6f families supposed to be employed in the O o 281. AN ACCOUNT OF the manufactory of the sugar, but the difficulty of admitting this supposition will vanish when we consider, that double that number of families are employed every year, in making cyder, the trouble, risks and expences of which are all much greater than those of making maple-sugar. But the profit of the maple tree is not confined to its sugar. It affords a most agreeable molasses, and an excellent vinegar. The sap which is suitable for these purposes is obtained after the sap which affords the sugar has ceased to flow, so that the manufactories of these different products of the maple tree, by succeeding, do not interfere with each other. The molasses may be made to compose the basis of a pleasant summer beer. The sap of the maple is moreover capable 6f affording a spirit, but we hope this precious juice will never be prostituted by our citizens to this ignoble pur- pose. Should the use of sugar in diet become more general in our country, it may tend to lessen the inclination or supr posed necessity for spirits, for I have observed a relish for sugar in diet to be seldom accompanied by a love for strong drink. It is the sugar which is mixed with tea which makes it s6 generally disagreeable to drunkards. But a diet, con- sisting of a plentiful mixture of sugar has other advantages to recommend it, which I shall briefly enumerate: 1. Sugar affords the greatest quantity of nourishment in a given quantity of matter of any substance in nature; of course it may be preserved in less room in our houses, and and may be consumed in less time, than more bulky and and less nourishing aliment. It has this peculiar advantage over most kinds of aliment, that it is not liable to have its nutritious qualities affected by time or the weather; hence it is preferred by the Indians in their excursions from home. THE SUGAR MAPLE-TREE. 283 They mix a certain quantity of maple sugar, with an equal quantity of Indian corn, dried and powdered, in its milky state. This mixture is packed in little baskets, which are frequently wetted in travelling, without injuring the sugar. A few spoons full of it mixed with half a pint of spring water, afford them a pleasant and strengthening meal. From the degrees of strength and nourishment, which are conveyed into animal bodies by a small bulk of sugar, I concieve it might be given to horses with great advantage, when they are used in circumstances which make it difficult or expen- sive to support them, with more bulky or weighty aliment. A pound of sugar with grass or hay, I have been told, has supported the strength and spirits of an horse, during a whole day's labour in one of the West-India Islands. A larger quantity given alone, has fattened horses and cattle, during'the war before last in Hispaniola, for a period of several months, in which the exportation of sugar, and the importa- tion of grain, were prevented by the want of ships. 2. The plentiful use of sugar in diet, is one of the best preventives that has ever been discovered of the diseases which are produced by worms. The Author pf Nature seems to have implanted a love for this aliment in all children, as if it were on purpose to defend them from those diseases. I know a gentleman in Philadelphia, who early adopted this opinion, and who by indulging a large familjr of children, in the use of sugar, has preserved them all from the diseases usually occasioned by worms. 3. Sir John Pringle has remarked, that the plague has never been known in any country where sugar composes a material part of the diet of the inhabitants. I think it pro- bable, that the frequency of malignant fevers of all kinds lias 284 AN ACCOUNT OF been lessened by this diet, and that its more general use would defend that class of people, who are most subject to malignant fevers, from being so often affected by them. 4. In the numerous and frequent disorders of the breast, which occur in all countries, where the body is exposed to a variable temperature of weather, sugar affords the basis of many agreeable remedies. It is useful in weaknesses, and acrid defluxions upon other parts of the body. Many facts might be adduced in favour of this assertion. I shall mention only one, which from the venerable name of the person, whose case furnished it, cannot fail of command ing attention and credit. Upon my enquiring of Dr. Frank- lin, at the request of a friend, about a year before he died, whether he had found any relief from the pain of the stone, from the Blackberry-Jam, of which he took large quantities, he told me that he had, but that he believed the medicinal part of the jam, resided wholly in the sugar, and as a reason for thinking so, he added, that he often found the same relief, by taking about half a pint of a syrup, prepared by boiling a little brown sugar in water, just before he went to bed, that he did from a dose of opium. It has been supposed by some of the early physicians of our country, that the sugar obtained from the m:.ple tree, is more medicinal, than that obtained from the West-India sugarcane, but this opinion I believe is without foundation. It is preferrable in its qualities to the West-India sugar only from its superior cleanliness. Cases may occur in which sugar may be required in medicine, or in diet, by persons who refuse to be benefited, THE SUGAR MAPLE-TREE. 285 even indirectly by the labour of slaves* In such cases, the innocent maple sugar will always be preferred*. It has been said, that sugar injures the teeth, but this opinion now has so few advocates, that it does not deserve a serious refutation. To transmit to future generations, all the advantages which have been enumerated from the maple tree, it will be necessary to protect it by law, or by a bounty upon the maple sugar, from being destroyed by the settlers in the maple country, or to transplant it from the woods, and cul- tivate it in the old and improved parts of the United States. An orchard consisting of 200 trees, planted upon a common farm would yield more than the same number of apple trees, at a distance from a market town. A full grown tree in the woods yields five pounds of sugar a year. If a greater ex- posure of a tree to the action of the sun, has the same effects upon the maple, that it has upon other trees, a larger quan- tity of sugar might reasonably be expected from each tree planted in an orchard. Allowing it to be only seven pounds, then 200 trees will yield 1400 pounds of sugar, and deduct- ing 200 from the quantity, for the consumption of the family, there will remain for sale 1200 pounds which at 6-90 of a dollar per pound will yield an annual profit to the farmer * Dr. Knowles, a physician of worthy character in London, had occasion to recommend a diet to a patient, of which sugar composed a material part. His patient refused to submit to his prescription, and gave as a reason for it, that he had witnessed so much of the oppression and cruelty which were exercised upon the slaves, who made the sugar, that he had made a vow never to taste the product of their misery as long as he lived. -So AN ACCOUNT OF of 80 dollars. But if it should be found that the shade of the maple does not check the growth of grain any more than it does of grass, double or treble that number of maple trees may be planted on every farm, and a profit proportioned to the above calculation be derived from them. Should this mode of transplanting the means of obtaining sugar be successful, it will not be a new one. The sugar cane of the West-Indies, was brought originally from the East-Indies, by the Portuguese, and cultivated at Madeira, from whence it was transplanted directly or indirectly, to all the sugar Islands of the West-Indies. It were to be wished, that the settlers upon the sugar maple lands, would spare the sugar tree in clearing their lands. On a farm of 200 acres of land, according to our former calculation, there are usually 6,000 maple trees. If only 2,000 of those original and ancient inhabitants of the woods, were suffered to remain, and each tree were to afford only five pounds of sugar, the annual profit of such a farm in sugar alone, at the price formerly mentioned, would amount to 666 dollars, 150 dollars of which would probably more than defray all the expences of making it, and allow a plen- tiful deduction for family use. According to the usual annual profit of a sugar maple tree, each tree is worth to a farmer, two dollars and 2-3 of a dol- lar ; exclusive therefore of the value of his farm, the 2,000 sugar maple trees alone confer a value upon it of 5,330 dol- lars and 33-90 of a dollar. It is said, that the sugar trees when deprived of the shelter and support they derive from other forest trees, are liable to be blown down, occasioned by their growing in a rich, and THE SUGAR MAPLE-TREE. 287 of course, a loose soil. To obviate this, it will only be neces- sary to cut off some of their branches, so as to alter its center of gravity, and to allow the high winds to have an easy pas- sage through them. Orchards of sugar maple trees, which grow with an original exposure of all their parts to the action of the sun, will not be liable to this inconvenience. I In contemplating the present opening prospects in human affairs, I am led to expect that a material share of the hap- piness, which Heaven seems to have prepared for a part of mankind, will be derived from the manufactory and general use of maple sugar, for the benefits which I flatter myself are to result from it, will not be confined to our own country. They will, I hope, extend themselves to the interests of humanity in the West-Indies. With this view of the sub- ject of this letter, I cannot help contemplating a sugar maple tree with a species of affection and even veneration, for I have persuaded myself, to behold in it the happy means of rendering the commerce and slavery of our African brethren, in the sugar Islands as unnecessary, as it has always been inhuman and unjust. From, dear Sir, your sincere friend, BENJAMIN RUSH. July 10th, 1791. An account of the life and death of Edward Drinker, who died on the 17th of November^ 1782, in the 103rd. year of his age. EDWARD DRINKER was born on the 24th. of December, 1680, in a small cabbin, near the present corner of Walnut and Second-streets, in the city of Philadel- phia. His parents came from a place called Beverly, in the state of Massachusetts. The banks of the Delaware, on which the city of Philadelphia now stands, were inhabited, at the time of his birth, by Indians, and a few Swedes and Hol- landers. He often talked to his companions of picking whortle berries and catching rabbits, on spots now the most improved and populous in the city. He recollected the second time William Penn came to Pennsylvania, and used to point to the place where the cabbin stood, in which he, and his friends, that accompanied him, were accommodated upon their arival. At twelve years of age, he went to Boston, where he served his apprenticeship to a cabinet maker. In the year 1745, he returned to Philadelphia, with his family, where he lived until the time of his death. He was four times married, and had eighteen children, all of whom were by his first wife. At one time of his life, he sat down, at his own table, with fourteen children. Not long before his death he heard of the birth of a grand-child, to one of his grand-chil- dren, the fifth in succession to himself. He retained all his faculties till the last year of his life. F.ven his memory, so early and so generally diminished by AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF E. DRINKER. 289 age was but little impaired. He not only remembered the incidents of his childhood and youth*, but the events of latter years ; and so faithful was his memory to him, that his son has informed me he never heard him tell the same story twice, but to different persons, and in different companies. His eye-sight failed him, many years before his death, but his hearing was uniformly perfect and unimpaired. His ap- petite was good till within a few days before his death. He generally ate a hearty breakfast of a pint of tea or coffee, as soon as he got out of his bed, with bread and butter in pro- * It is remarkable that the incidents of childhood and youth are seldom remembered or called forth until old age. I have sometimes been led, from this and other circumstan- ces, to suspect that nothing is ever lost that is lodged in the memory, however it may be buried for a time by a variety of causes. How often do we find the transactions of early life, which we had reason to suppose were lost from the mind for ever, revived in our memories by certain accidental sights or sounds, particularly by certain notes or airs in music, I have known a young man speak French fluently when drunk, that could not put two sentences of that language together, when sober. He had been taught it perfectly, when a boy, but had forgotten it from disuse. A French countess was nursed by a Welsh woman, from whom she learned to speak her language, which she soon forgot, after she had acquired the French, which was her mother tongue. In the delirium of a fever, many years afterwards, she was heard to mutter Words which none of her family or attendants understood. An old Welsh woman came to see her, who soon perceived that the sounds which were so unintelligible to the family, were the Welsh language. When she recovered, she could not recollect a single word of the language, she had spoken in her sickness. I can conceive great advantages may be derived from this retentive power in our memories, in the advancement of the mind towards perfection in knowledge* fso essential to its happiness) in a future world. Pp 290 AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND DEATH portion. He ate likewise at eleven o'clock, and never failed to eat plentifully at dinner of the grossest solid food. He drank tea, in the evening, but never ate any supper: he had lost all his teeth thirty years before his death, which was oc- casioned, his son says, by drawing excessive hot smoke of tobacco into his mouth : but the want of suitable mastication of his food, did not prevent its speedy digestion, nor impair his health. Whether the gums, hardened by age, supplied the place of his teeth in a certain degree, or whether the juices of the mouth and stomach became so mtich- more acrid by time, as to perform the office of dissolving the food more speedily and more perfectly, I know not, but I have often observed, that old people are most disposed to excessive eat- ing, and that they suffer fewest inconveniences from it. He was inquisitive after news in the last years of his life. His education did not lead him to increase the stock of his ideas any other way. But it is a fact well worth attending to, that old age, instead of diminishing, always increases the desire of knowledge. It must afford some consolation to those who expect to be old, to discover, that the infirmities to which the decays of nature expose the human body, are rendered more tolerable by the enjoyments that are to be derived from the appetite for sensual and intellectual food. He was remarkably sober and temperate. Neither hard labour, nor company, nor the usual afflictions of human life, nor the wastes of nature, ever led him to an improper or ex- cessive use of strong drink. For the last twenty-five years of his life, he drank twice every day of toddy, made with two table spoonfuls of spirit, in half a pint of water. His son, a man of fifty-nine years of age, told me that he had never seen him intoxicated. The time and manner in which he used spiritous liquors, I believe, contributed to lighten the OF EDWARD DRINKER. 291 weight of hi9 years, and probably to prolong his life. " Give wine to him that is of a heavy heart, and strong drink to him that is ready to perish with age, as well aa with sickness. Let him drink and forget his sorrow, and remember his misery no more." He enjoyed an uncommon share of health, insomuch that in the course of his long life he never was confined more than three days to his bed. He often declared that he had no idea of that mo6t distressing pftia called the head ache. His sleep was interrupted a little in the last years of his life with a defluxion on his breast, which produced what is commonly called the old man's cough. The character of this aged citizen was not summed up in his negative quality of temperance : he was a man of the most amiable temper: old age had not curdled his blood ; he was uniformly cheerful and kind to every body; his religious principles were as steady as his morals were pure. He attended public worship about thirty years in the Rev. Dr. Sproat's church, and died in a full assurance of a happy immor- tality. The life of this man is marked with several circum- stances, which perhaps have seldom occurred in the life of an individual events, He saw and heard more of those events which are measured by time, than have ever been seen or heard by any name since the age of the patriarchs; he saw the same spot of earth, which at one period of his life, was covered with wood and bushes, and the receptacle of beasts and birds of prey, afterwards become the seat of a city not only the first in wealth and arts in the new, but rivalling in both, many of the first cities in the old world. He saw regu- lar streets where he once pursued a hare : he saw churches rising upon morasses, where he had often heard the croak- 292 AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE OF E. DRINKER. ing of frogs ; he saw wharfs and ware-houses, where he had often seen Indian savages draw fish from the river for their daily subsistence ; and he saw ships of every size and use in in those streams, where he had often seen nothing but Indian canoes; he saw a stately edifice filled with legislators, asto- nishing the world with their wisdom and virtue, on the same spot, probably, where he had seen an Indian council fire ; he saw the first treaty ratified between the newly confederated powers of America and the ancient monarchy of France, with all the formalties of parchment and seals, on the same spot, probably, where he once saw William Penn ratify his first and last treaty with the Indians, without the formality of pen, ink or paper; he saw all the intermediate stages through which a people pass, from the most simple to the highest degrees of civilization. He saw the beginning and end of the empire of Great-Britain, in Pennsylvania. He had been the subject of seven successive crowned heads, and afterwards be- came a willing citizen of a republic; for he embraced the liberties and independence of America in his withered arms, and triumphed in the last years of his life in the salvation of his country. Remarkable circumstances in the constitution and life of Ann Woods, an old woman of 96 years of AGE. IN the summer of the year 1788, while I was engaged in collecting the facts upon the subject of old age, which I have since published,* a poor woman came to my house to beg for cold victuals. Perceiving by her countenance, and the stoop in her walk, that she was very old, I requested her to sit down by me, while I recorded the following information, which I received from her, and which was confirmed to me a few days afterwards, by one of her daughters with whom she lived. Her name was Ann Woods. Her age at that time was 96. She was born in Herefordshire, in England, and came to this city when she was but ten years old, where she had lived ever since. She had been twice married. By her first husband, William Dickson, she had nine children, four of whom were then living. By her second husband, Joseph Woods, whom she married after she was sixty years old, she had one child, born within ten months after her marriage. There were intervals of two and nearly three years between each of her children. Three died soon after weaning them at the usual age in which children are taken from the breast. This led her to suckle her other children during the whole time of her pregnancy, and in several instances, she suckled two of them, born in succession to each other, at the same * Medical Enquiries and Observations, vol. 2. 2'j4 AN ACCOUNT OF THE LIFE AND time. One of her children by her first husband, sucked until it was five years old. Her menses appeared between her nineteenth and twentieth years and continued without any in- termission, except during her pregnancy and eleven months after the birth of each of her children, until she was eighty years of age. At the time I saw her, she heard tolerably well, but her sight was lost in one eye, and was weak in the other. She lost all her teeth when she was between fifty and sixty years of age. Her hair became grey when she was between forty and fifty. Her sleep was not sound, owing to her hating been afflicted with the Rheumatism, a disease which was brought on her by the alternate heat and cold to which she had exposed herself, by following the business of a washer woman for many years. She had had several attacks of the Intermitting Fever and of the Pleurisy, in the course of her life, and was much afflicted with the Head-Ache, after her menses ceased. She had been frequently bled while afflicted with the above diseases. Her dtet was simple, consisting chiefly of weak tea, milk, cheese, butter and vegetables. Meat of all kinds, except veal, disagreed with her stomach. She found great benefit from frequently changing her aliment. Her drinks were water, cyder and water, molasses and vine- gar in water. She had never used spirits. Her memory was but little impaired. She was cheerful and thankful that her condition in life was happier than hundreds of other old people. From the history of this old woman's constitution and man- ner of life, the following observations will naturally occur to the reader. i. That there is a great latitude in the time in which the menses cease. It is more common for them iu their excen- CONSTITUTION OF ANN WOODS. 295 tricities, to disappear at the. usual time, and to return in ex- treme old age. In the year 1795, I saw a case of this kind in a woman of seventy years of age in the Pennsylvania Hos- pital. 2. There is a great latitude in the time in which women bear children. Many children are born between fifty and sixty, but very few I believe beyond sixty. 3. It appears from the history that has been given, that acute and chronic diseases if opposed by temperance and suit- able remedies, do not necessarily shorten the duration of human life. 4. That child-bearing, and suckling children, do not ma- terially affect health, or longevity, where their effects are opposed by temperance and moderate labour. 5. That the evils of life are seldom so numerous, as not to leave room for tiiankfulness for an exemption from a great deal of misery. This poor woman did not complain of her weakness, pains or poverty. On the contrary, she appeared thanful under all the afflictions of her life. While the indo- lent are commanded by the wise man to go to the ant to learn industry, those persons who abound with all the external means of happiness, and at the same time complain of the moral government of our world, may be invited to sit down by the side of Ann Woods, and learn from the example of her gratitude to heaven, for a single drop of divine goodness, to render unceasing thanks for the ocean of blessings they derive from the same source. Biographical ANECDOTES OF BENJAMIN LAY. THERE was a time when the name of this celebrated Christian Philosopher, was familiar to every man, woman and to nearly every child, in Pennsylvania.—iHis size, which was not much above four feet, his dress, which was always the same, consisting of light coloured plain clothes, a white hat, and half-boots;—.his milk-white beard, which hung upon his breast; and, above all, his peculiar principles and conduct, rendered him to many, an object of admiration, and1 to all, the subject of conversation.—.' He was born in England, and spent the early part of his life at sea. His first settlement was in Barbadoes, as a mer- chant, where he was soon convinced of the iniquity of the slave trade. He bore an open testimony against it, in all companies, by which means he rendered himself so unpo- pular, that he left the island in disgust, and settled in the then province of Pennsylvania. He fixed his home at Abing- ton, ten miles from Philadelphia, from whence he made fre- quent excursions to the city, and to different parts of the country.—• At the time of his arrival in Pennsylvania, he found many of his brethren, the people called Quakers, had fallen so faf from their original principles, as to keep negro slaves. He remonstrated with them, both publickly and privately, against the practice; but frequently with so much indiscreet zeal, as BIOGRAPHICAL ANECDOTES OF BENJAMIN LAY. 297 to give great offence. He often disturbed their public meet- ings, by interrupting or opposing their preachers, for which he was once carried out of a meeting-house, by two or three friends.—*Upon this occasion he submitted with patience to *what he considered a species of persecution—He lay down at the door of the meeting-house, in a shower of rain, till divine worship was ended; nor could he be prevailed upon to rise, till the whole congregation had stepped over him in their way to their respective homes.—* To shew his indignation against the practice of slave- keeping, he once carried a bladder filled with blood into a meeting ; and, in the presence of the whole congregation, thrust a sword, which he had concealed under his coat, into the bladder, exclaiming, at the same time, " Thus shall God shed the blood of those persons who enslave their fellow creatures." The terror of this extravagant and unexpected act, produced swoonings in several of the women of the con- gregation.—. He once went into the house of a friend in Philadelphia, and found him seated at breakfast, with his family around him. Being asked by him to sit down and breakfast with them, he said, " Dost thou keep slaves in thy house I" Upon being answered in the affirmative, he said, " Then I will not partake with thee, of the fruits of thy unrighteousness." He took great pains to convince a farmer and his wife, in Chester county, of the iniquity of keeping negro slaves, but to no purpose. They not only kept their slaves, but defended the practice. One day he went into their house, and after a short discourse with them upon the wickedness, and particu- larly the inhumanity of seperating children from their parents, which was involved in the slave trade, he seized the only 298 BIOGRAPHICAL ANECDOTES'OF child of the femily, (a little girl about three years old) and pretended to run away with her.—The child cried bitterly, " I will be good,—I will be good," and fhe parents shewed signs of being alarmed. Upon observing this scene, Mr. Lay said, very emphatically,—" You see, and/W now,-a little of the distress you occasion every day, by the inhuman prac- tice of slave-keeping." This singular philosopher did not limit his pious testimony against vice, to slave-keeping alone. He was opposed to every species of extravagance. Upon the introduction of tea, as an article of diet, into Pennsylvania, his 'wife 'bought a small quantity of it, with a sett of cups and saucers, and brought them home with her. Mr. Lay took them from her, brought them back again to the city, and from the bal- cony of the court-house scattered the tea, and broke the cups and saucers, in the presence of many hundred spectators, delivering, at the same time, a striking lecture upon the folly of preferring that foreign herb, with its expensive appur- tenances, to the simple and wholesome diet of our country. He possessed a good deal of wit, and Was quick at repartee. A citizen of Philadelphia, who knew his peculiarities, once met him in a croud, at a funeral, in Germantown. Being desirous of entering into a conversation with him that should divert the company, the citizen accosted him, with the most respectful ceremony, and declared himself to be " his most humble servant." " Art thou my servant." said Mr. Lay, —." Yes—I am" said the citizen. " Then, said Mr. Lay, (holding up his foot towards him,) clean this shoe."—This unexpected reply turned the laugh upon the citizen. Being desirous of recovering himself in the opinion of the company, he asked him to instruct him in the way to heaven. " Dost BENJAMIN LAY. 299 thou indeed wish to be taught," said Mr- Lay. " I do," said the citizen. " Then," said Mr. Lay, " Do justice- love mercy, and. walk humbly with thy God." He wrote a small treatise upon negro-slavery, which he brought to Dr. Franklin to be printed. Upon looking over it, the Doctor told him that it was not paged, and that there appeared to be no order or arrangement in it. " It is no matter said Mr. Lay—print any part thou pleasest first."— This book contained many pious sentiments, and strong ex- pressions against negro slavery; but even the address and skill of Dr. Franklin were not sufficient to connect its dif- ferent parts together, so as to render it an agreeable or use- ful work. This book is in the library of the city of Phila- delphia. Mr. Lay was extremely attentive to young people. He took gre& pleasure in visiting schools, where he often preached to the yeutii, He frequently carried a basket of religious books with him* and distributed them as prizes, among the scholars, He was fond of reading. In the print of him, which is to be seen in many houses in Philadelphia, he is represented with " Tryon on Happiness" in his hand, a bopk which he valued very much, and which he frequently carried with him in his excursions from home- He was kind and charitable to the poor, but had no com- passion for beggars, He used to say, " there was no man or woman, who was able, to go abroad to beg, that was not able to earn four pence a day, and this sum, he said, was enough to keep any person above want, or dependence, in this country." 300 BIOGRAPHICAL ANECDOTES OF His humanity was as ingenious as it was extensive, and embraced the sufferings which arise from even the common inconveniences of life. One, among many instances that might be mentioned of this species of humanity, was his ad- vising the farmers who lived near to public roads to plant fruit trees along them, in order " to protect the weary travel- ler by their shade, and to refresh him with their fruits." He was a severe enemy to idleness, insomuch that when he could not employ himself out of doors, or when he was tired of reading, he used to spend his time in spinning. His common sitting room was hung with skains of thread, spun entirely by himself. All his clothes were of his own manu- factory. He was extremely temperate in his diet, living chiefly upon vegetables.—.Turnips boiled, and afterwards roasted, were his favourite dinner. His drink was pure water. From a desire of imitating.' our Saviour> in every thing, he once attempted to fast for forty days. This experiment, it is said had nearly cost him his life. He was obliged to desist from it, long before the forty days were expired ; but the fasting, it was said, so much debilitated his body, as to accelerate his death. He lived above eighty years, and died in his own house in Abington, about thirty years ago. In reviewing the history of this extraordinary man, we cannot help absolving him of his weaknesses, when we con- template his many active virtues. He was the pioneer of that war, which has since been carried on, so successfully, against the commerce and slavery of the negroes.—Perhaps the turbulence and severity of his temper were necessary to rouse the torpor of the human mind, at the period in which he lived, to this interesting subject. The meekness and BENJAMIN LAY. 201 gentleness of Anthony Benezet, who compleated what Mr. Lay began would probably have been as insufficient for the work performed by Mr. Lay, as the humble piety of De Renty, or of Thomas A. Kempis, would have been to accom- plish the works of the zealous Luther, or the intrepid Knox in the sixteenth century. The success of Mr. Lay, in sowing the seeds of a principle which bids fair to produce a revolution in morals—commerce —and government, in the new and in the old world, should teach the benefactors of mankind not to despair, if they do not see the fruits of their benevolent propositions, or under- takings, during their lives.—No one seed of truth or virtue ever perished.—Wherever it may be sowed, or even scat- tered, it will preserve and carry with it the principle of life- Some of these seeds produce their fruits in a short time, but the most valuable of them, like the venerable oak—«are cen- turies in growing j but they are unlike the pride of the forests, as well as all other vegetable productions, in being incapable of a decay; They exist and bloom for ever. February 10th. 1790. Biographical Anecdotes of Anthony Benezet, THIS excellent man was placed by his friends in early life in a counting-house, but finding commerce open- ed temptations to a worldly spirit, he left his master, and bound himself as an apprentice to. a cooper. Finding this business too laborious for his constitution, he declined it, and devoted himself to school-keeping ; in which useful em- ployment, he continued during the greatest part of his life. He possessed uncommon activity and industry in every thing fie undertook. He did every thing as if the words of his Saviour were perpetually sounding in'his ears,'"" wist ye riot, that T must be about my Father's business ?" He used to say, " the highest act of charity in the WOtM' was to be;ir with the unreasonableness of mankind." He generally wore plush clothes, and gave as a reason for it, that after he had worn them for two or three years, they made comfortable and decent garments for the poor. He once informed a young friend, that his memory began to fail him; " but this," said he, " gives me one great ad- u vantage over thee—for thou canst find entertainment in il reading a good book only once—.but I enjoy that pleasure k< as often as I read it; for it is always new to me." He published several valuable tracts in favor of the emanci- pation of the blacks, and of the civilizing and christianizing BIOGRAPHICAL ANECDOTES OF ANTHONY BEKEZET. 303 the Indians. He also published a pamphlet against the use of ■ardent spirits. All these pubfications were circulated wifh gueat industry, and at his own expense, throughout every part of the United States. He wrote letters to the queen of Great-Britain, and to ihe queen oF Portugal to use their influence with their respective courts to abolish the African trade. He accompanied his let- ter to the queen of Great-Britain with a present of his works. The queen received them with great politeness, and said after reading them, " that the author appeared to ne a very good " man." He also wrote a letter to the king of Prussia, in which he endeavoured to convince him of the unlawfulness of war. During the time the British army was in possession of the city of Philadelphia, he was indefatigable in his endeavours to render the situation of the persons who suffered from capti- vity as easy as possible. He knew no fear in the presence of his Fellow men, however dignified they were by titles or sta- tion, and such were the propriety and gentleness of his man- ners in his intercourse with the gentlemen who commanded the British and German troops, that when he could not ob- tain the objects of his requests, he never failed to secure their civilities, and frequently their esteem. So great was his sympathy with every thing that was capa- ble of feeling pain, that he resolved towards, the close of his life, to eat no animal food. Upon coming into-his brother's house one day, when his family was dining upon poultry, he was asked by his brother's wife, to sit down and dine with them. " What!" (said he,) « would you have eat my neigh- " bours " 304 BIOGRAPHICAL ANECDOTES OF ANTHONY BENEZET. This misapplication of a moral feeling, was supposed f* have brought on such a debility in his stomach and bowels, as produced a disease in those parts of which he finally died. Few men, since days of the apostles, ever lived a more disinterested life. And yet, upon his death bed, he said, he wished to live a little longer, that " he might bring down " SELF." The-last time he ever walked across his room, was to take from his desk six dollars, which he gave to a poor widow whom he had long assisted to maintain. He bequeathed after the death of his widow, a house and lot in which consisted his whole estate, to the support of a school for the education of negro children, which he had founded and taught for several years before his death. He died in May 1784, in the 71st. year of his age. His funeral was attended by persons of all religious denomi- nations, and by many hundred black people. Colonel J----n, who had served in the American army, during the late war, in returning from the funeral, pro- nounced an eulogium upon him. It consisted only of the following words: " I would rather," said he, " be Anthony " Benezet in that coffin, than George Washington with all H his fame." July 15, 1788. PARADISE OF NEGRO-SLAVES.—A DREAM. SOON after reading Mr. Clarkson's ingenious and pathetic essay on the slavery and commerce of the human species, the subject made so deep an impression upon my mind, that it followed me in my sleep, and produced a dream of so extraordinary a nature, that I have yielded to the importunities of some of my friends, by communicating it to the public, I thought I was conducted to a country, which in point of cultivation and scenery; far surpassed any thing I had ever heard, or read of in my life. This country, I found, was inhabited only by negroes. They appeared cheerful and happy. Upon my approaching a beautiful grove, where a number of them were assembled for reli- gious purposes, I perceived at once a pause in their exer- cises, and an appearance of general perturbation. They fixed their eyes upon me—while one of them, a venerable looking man, came forward, and in the name of the whole assembly, addressed me in the following language : " Excuse the panic which you have spread through this " peaceful and happy company : we perceive that you are a « white man.—That colour which is the emblem of innocence " in every other creature of God, is to us a sign of guilt in " man. The persons whom you see here, were once drag- " ged by, the men of your colour from their native country, << and consigned by them to labour—punishment—and death. Rr 30G PARADISE OF NEGRO SLAVLS, " —We are here collected together, and enjoy an ample " compensation in our present employments for all the mise- " ries we endured on earth. We know that we are secured " by the Being whom we worship, from injury and oppres- " sion. Our appearance of terror, therefore, was entirely " the sudden effect of habits which have not yet been eradi- " cated from our minds." " Your apprehensions of danger from the sight of a white 14 man," said I, " are natural. But in mc—you behold a " friend. I have been your advocate—and."----Here, he interrupted me, and said,*' Is not your name----?" I an- swered in the affirmative. Updh this he ran up and embraced me in his arms, and afterwards conducted me into the midst of the assembly, where, after being introduced to the prin- cipal characters, I was seated upon a bank of moss; and the following account was delivered to me by the venerable per- son who first accosted me. " The place we now occupy, is called the paradise of negro " slaves. It is destined to be our place of residence 'till the " general judgement; after which time, we expect to be " admitted into higher and more perfect degrees of. happiness. " Here we derive great pleasure from contemplating the infi- u nite goodness of God, in allotting to us our full proportion " of misery on earth; by which means we have escaped the " punishments, to which the free and happy part of mankind " too often expose themselves after death. Here we have " learned to thank God, for all the afflictions our task-mas- •• ters heaped on us; inasmuch, as they were the means of " our present happiness. Pain and distress arc the unavoid- " able portions of all mankind. They are the only possible ave- '• nues that can conduct them to peace and felicity. Happy arc A DREAM. 307 " they, who partake of their proportion of both upon the " earth." Here he ended — After a silence of a few minutes, a young man, who bore on his head the mark of a wound, came up to me and asked " If I knew any thing of Mr.----, of the Island of----" I told him " I did not."—" Mr.------," said he, « was my " master. One day, I mistook his orders, and saddled his " mare instead of his horse, which provoked him so much, " that he took up an axe which laid in his yard, and with a " stroke on my head dismissed me from life. " I long to hear, whether he has repented of this unkind " action. Do, sir, write to him, and tell him, his sin is not " too great to be forgiven, tell him, his once miserable slave, " Scipio, is not angry at him—he longs to bear his prayers " to the offended majesty of heaven—and—when he dies— " Scipio will apply to be one of the convoy, that shall conduct " his spirit to the regions of bliss appointed for those who " repent of their iniquities." Before I could reply to this speech, an old man came and sat down by my side. His wool was white as snow. With a low, but gentle voice, he thus addressed me. " Sir, I was the slave of Mr.------, in the Island of---- « I served him faithfully upwards of sixty years. No rising « sun ever caught me in my cabin—no setting sun ever saw " me out of the sugar field, except on Sundays and holydays. « My whole subsistence never cost my master more than « forty shillings a year. Herrings and roots were my only « food. One day, in the eightieth year of my age, the over' " seer saw me stop to rest myself against the side of a tree, « where I was at work. He came up to me, and beat me, 308 PARADISE OF NEGRO SLAVES, " 'till he could endure the fatigue and heat occasioned by the " blows he gave me, no longer. Nor was this all.—he com- " plained of me to my master, who instantly set me up at " public vendue, and sold mc for two guineas to a tavern- " keeper, in a distant parish. The distress I felt, in leaving " my children, and grand-children(28 of whom I left on my " old master's plantation) soon put an end to my existence, " and landed me upon these happy shores. I have now no " wish to gratify but one—-and that is to be permitted to visit " my old master's family. I long to tell my master, that " his wealth cannot make him happy.—That the sufferings " of a single hour in the world of misery, for which he is " preparing himself, will overbalance all the pleasures he " ever enjoyed in his life—and that for every act of unneces- " sary severity he inflicts upon his slaves, he shall suffer ten- ■' fold in the world to come." He had hardly finished his tale, when a decent looking woman came forward, and addressed me in the following language.—Sir, " I was once the slave of Mr.----, in the state of-----.. " From the healthiness of my constitution, I was called upon " to suckle my Master's eldest son. To enable me to per- " form this office more effectually, my own child was taken " from my breast, and soon afterwards died. My affections " in the first emotions of my grief, fastened themselves upon " my infant master. He thrived under my care and grew " up a handsome young man. Upon the death of his father, " I became his property.—Soon after this event, he lost^".] 00 u at cards. To raise this money I was sold to a planter in a " neighbouring state. I can never forget the anguish, with " which my aged father ancl mother followed me to the end A DREAM. S09 *' of the lane, when I left my master's house, and hung upon ?' me, when they bid me farewell." " My new master obliged mc to work in the field; the " consequence of which was, I caught a fever which in a few " weeks ended my life. Say, my friend, is my first young " master still alive ? —If he is—go to him, and tell him, his " unkind behaviour to me is upon record against hhn. The " gentle spirits in heaven, whose happiness consists in ex- it pressions of gratitude and love, will have no fellowship " with him. His soul must be melted with pity, or he can " never escape the punishment which awaits the hard-hearted. " equally with the impenitent, in the regions of misery." As soon as she had finished her story, a middle aged wo- man approached me, and after a low and respectful curtsey. thus addressed me, « Sir I was born and educated in a christian family in one « of the southern states of America. In the thirty-third " year of my age, I applied to my master to purchase my « freedom. Instead of granting my request, he conveyed " me by force on board of a vessel and sold me to a planter " in the island of Hispaniola. Here it pleased God."——— Upon pronouncing these words, she paused, and a general silence ensued.—All at once, the eyes of the whole assembly were turned from me, and directed towards a little white man who advanced towards them, on the opposite side of the grove, in which we were seated. His face was grave, placid, and full of benignity. In one hand he carried a subscription paper and a petition—in the other, he carried a small pam- phlet, on the unlawfulness of the African slave-trade, and a letter directed to the King of Prussia, upon the unlawfulness 310 TARADISE OF Nt(.RO SLAVES, A DREAM. of war. While I was employed in contemplating this vene- rable figure—suddenly I beheld the whole assembly running to meet him—the air resounded with the clapping of hands— and I awoke from my dream, by the noise of a general accla- mation of—i ANTHONY BENEZET! ■ ',,„-,, III, —^: AS INQUIRY INTO THE CAUSES OF PR*EMATURK DEATHS. THE frequency of death in infancy, childhood, and middle life, and the immense disproportion between the number who die in those periods, and of those who die in old age, have often been urged as arguments against the wis- dom and goodness of the divine government. The design of this inquiry is to shew that, in the present state of the world those supposed evils, or defects, are blessings in disguise, and a part of a wise and extensive system of goodness to the children of men. The reasons for this opinion are: I. Did ail the people who are born, live to be seventy or eighty years of age, the population of the globe would soon so far surpass its present cultivation, that millions would perish yearly from the want of food. INQUIRY INTO THE CAUSES OF PREMATURE DEATHS. 311 2. Did all the men and women who come into the world, live to be old, how miserable would be the condition of most of them, from weakness, sickness, and pain.! Unable to as- sist each other, and neglected or deserted by their children, or friends,, they would perish from want, or perhaps putrify above ground. This view of the consequences of universal longevity is not an exaggerated one. A tribe of northern Indians, Mr. Hearnes says, always leave their parents, when they become old and helpless, to die alone with hunger. They meet death, he adds, with resignation, from an idea of its necessity, and from the recollection of their having treat- ed their parents in the samtemanner. In support of «^e re- mark, under this head, let us recollect how many old people in humble life, are maintained by the public, and how few parents in genteel life, after they have exhausted their libe- rality upon their children, receive from them a due propor- tion of gratitude or respect. 3. In the present depraved state of human nature, how great would be the mass of vice in the world, if old age were universal ? If avarice in an individual strikes a whole city with surprise and horror, how great would be the mass of this vice in a city that contained 30 ov 40,000 old people, all equal- ly absorbed in the love of money? Again, what would be the extent and degrees of ambition, malice and cruelty, nurtured and cherished for 70 or 80 years in the same number of hu- man beings ? But, to do justice to this part of our subject, let us view the effects of universal longevity upon another and greater scale. Suppose Alexander, Cesar, Nero, Caligula, and many others of the conquerors and tyrants of.the ancient world, had lived to be old men with the ambition and love cf power that have been ascribed to them, growing with their years, how much more accumulated would have been their 312 INQUIRY INTO THE CACSES OF crimes, and how much more distressing would have been the history of the nations which were conquered and enslaved by them ! The same Alexander, who at thirty years of age, only demanded divine homage from his captives, would probably at seventy have exacted human sacrifices to satisfy his assum- ed divinity; and the same Nero, who, when a young man, only fiddled at the sight of the houses of Rome in a blaze, had he lived to be old, would probably have danced at the sight of all the inhabitants of that city perishing in its general conflagration. But I will not rely upon mere supposition, to evince the pernicious influence which universal longevity has upon** orals. The inhabitants of the antediluvian world ex- hibited a memorable instance of it. Their wickedness is chaJ i-acterized by the sacred historian in the following words. " And God saw that the wickedness of man was great in the earth, and that every imagination of the thoughts of his heart was only evil, continually. The earth also was corrupt be^ fore God: and the earth was filled with violence." Gen. vi. 6 Sc 11. The extent of the wickedness among the antedilu- vians may easily be conceived from the two following circum- stances. 1. The small number of those persons who escaped the general depravity of morals which had overspread thef world, being eight only ; and that at a time when the world was probably more populous than it has ever been since. 2. The abortive issue of the means that God employed to reform them. Noah preached to them several hundred years, and probably during that long period, travelled over a great portion of the world, and yet not a single person was converted, or saved from destruction by his ministry, except the mem- bers of his own family. PREMATURE DEATHS. 313 It was from a review of this wickedness, by the Supreme Being, that life was shortened, as if in mercy to present a a similar accumulation of it in any future age of the world. u And the Lord said, my breath shall not always' remain in these men because they are flesh, yet shall their days be one hundred and twenty years."* For the same reason they were afterwards reduced to seventy, or a few more years, as is obvious from the 10th verse of the 90th Psalm. 4. The mass of vice is not only lessened by the small pro- portion of the human race who live to be old, but the mass of virtue is thereby greatly increased. The death of p "sons who have filkd up the measure of their days, and who descend to the grave in a good old age, seldom excites a serious re- flection ; but every death that occurs in early or middle life, has a tendency to damp the ardor of worldly pursuits, to weaken the influence of some sinful passion, and to produce some degrees of reverence for that religion which opens pros- pects of life and happiness beyond the grave. * This translation of the verse is copied from the LXX. whose version is justified by all the circumstances of the case. The Creator had breathed into man's nostrils the breath of life, (Gen. ii. 7.) and a continuance in life was promised him dur- ing his continuance in innocence ; but upon his transgression he became mortal; and upon an increase of wickedness, hu- man life was proportionably shortened. It was for this reason (Gen. vi. 13.) that God determined to destroy the old world; and this occasioned the above declaration: the punctuality with which it was verified deserves particular notice; for Noah was employed 120 years in building the ark; and at the expiration of that time the flood came, and destroyed " all in whose nostrils was the breath of life, of all that was in the ilry land." Gen. vii. 22. S s J 2 4 1\QUIRY INTO THE CAUSES OF 5. If vice, as we are taught to believe, will be punished, ac- cording to its degrees, in a future state of existence, how much greater would be the mass of misery hereafter, if the whole human race lived to be old, and with increasing habits of wickedness, than it will be in the present contracted duration of human life ? It is therefore no less an act of mercy, than justice, that the " wicked live not out half their days." 6. If old age were universal, how difficult and severe would be the conflicts of virtue! To be exposed to the malignant passions of bad men, or, what is often Worse, to contend with our own evil propensities for seventy or eighty year's, would render the warfare of good men much more perilous, and their future happiness much more precarious, than it is at present. How few persons who live to be old, escape the idolatrous passion of covetousness ? Were old age universal, this passion would probably exclude one half of them from the kingdom of heaven. 7. Did all men live to be old, it would render knowledge , stationary. Few men -alter their opinions, or admit new truths, after they are forty years of age. None of the con- temporary physicians of Dr. Harvey, who had passed that age, admitted his discovery of the circulation of the blood. Now considering that nearly all discoveries in science are made by men under forty, and considering the predominating influence and authority which accompany the hostility of old men to new truths, discoveries made by young men could never acquire belief, or an establishment in the world. They owe both, to the small number of philosophers who live to be seventy or eighty years of age. 8. Were longevity universal, with all the deformity from vrinkles, baldness, and the loss of teeth and complexion, • PREMATURE DEATHS. 315 that are usually connected with it, what a gloomy and offen- sive picture would the assemblies of our fellow-creatures ex- hibit ? In the present small proportion of old people to the young and middle aged, they seem like shades in painting, or like a few decayed trees near a highly cultivated garden,, filled with blooming and fragrant flowers, to exhibit the charms of youth and beauty to greater advantage. From an assembly composed exclusively of old men and women, we should turn our eyes with pain and disgust. If the causes of premature deaths which have been assigned, be correct, instead of complaining of them, it becomes us, in the present state of the cultivation, population, govern- ment, religion, morals, and knowledge in the world, tp con- sider them as subjects for praise and thanksgiving to the wise and benevolent Governor of the Universe. While we thus do homage to the divine wisdom and good- ness, let us look forward to the time when the improvements in the physical, moral, and political condition of the world, s predicted in the Old Testament, shall render the early and distressing separation of parents and children, and of hus- bands and wives, wholly unnecessary ; when the physical and moral sources of those apparent evils shall be removed by the combined influence of philosophy and religion, and when old age shall be the only outlet of human life. The following verses, taken from the 65th chapter of the prophecy of Isaaih, justify a belief in an order of things, such as has been mentioned: « There shall be no more thence an infant of days," [or an infant that has lived but a few days] « nor an old man that hath not filled his days, for the child shall die an hundred years old. And they shall build houses, and 316 INQUIRY INTO THE CAUSES OF l'REMATURE DEATHS- inhabit them, and they shall plant vineyards, and eat the fruit of them. They shall not build, and another inhabit, they shall not plant, and another eat, for as the days of a tree, are the days of my people, and mine elect shall long enjoy the work of their hands." VX EULOGIUM UPON DR. WILLIAM CULLEN, PROFESSOR OF THE PRACTICE OF PHYSIC, IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDIN- BURGH ; DELIVERED BEFORE THE COLLEGE OF PHYSI- CIANS OF PHILADELPHIA, ON THE 9TH OF JULY, AGREEA- BLY TO THEIR VOTt OF THE 4TH OF MAY, 1790, AN* AFTERWARDS PUBLISHED AT THEIR REQUEST. Mr. President and Gentlemen, BY your unanimous vote, to honor with an Eulogium, the character of the late Dr. William Cullen, Professor of medecine in the University of Edinburgh, you have done equal homag'e'to science and humanity. This illustrious Physician was the Preceptor of many of us:—He was moreover a distinguished citizen of the republic of me- dicine, and a benefactor to mankind; and although, like the sun, he shone in a distant hemisphere, yet many of the rays of his knowledge have fallen upon this quarter of the globe. I rise, therefore, to mingle your grateful praises of him, with the numerous offerings of public and private respect which have been paid to his memory in his native country. Happy, AN EULOGIUM UPON DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. 317 will be the effects of such acts of distant sympathy, if they should serve to unite the influence of science with that of commerce, to lessen the prejudices of nations against each other, and thereby to prepare the way for the operation of that divine system of morals, whose prerogative alone it is, to teach mankind that they are brethren, and to make the name of a fellow-creature, in every region of the world, a signal for brotherly affection. In executing the task you have imposed upon me, I shall confine myself to such parts of Dr Cullen's character as came within the compass of my own knowledge, during two years residence in Edinburgh.—To his fellow citizens in Great Britain, who were more intimately acquainted with him, we must resign the history of his domestic character, as well as the detail of all those steps which, in early life, led him to hifr unparalleled height of usefulness and fame. Dr. Cullen possessed a great and original genius. By genius, in the present instance, I mean a power in the human mind of discovering the relation of distant truths, by the Shortest train of intermediate propositions. This precious gift of Heaven, is composed of a vigorous imagination, quick sensibility, a talent for extensive and accurate observation, a faithful memory, and a' sound judgment. These faculties were all united in an eminent degree in the mind of Dr. Cul- len. His imagination surveyed all nature at a glance, and, like a camera obscura, seemed to produce in his mind a pic- tureof the whole visible creation. His sensibility was so exqui- site that the smallest portions of truth acted upon it. By means of his talent for observation he collected knowledge from evdry thing he heard, saw, or read, and from every person with whom he conversed. His memory was the faithful re- 3 1ft AN EULOGIUM UPON pository of all his ideas, and appeared to be alike accurate upon all subjects. Over each of these faculties of his mind a sound judgment presitied, by means of which he discovered the relation of ideas to each other, and thereby produced those new combinations which constitute principles in science. This process of the mind has been called invention, and is totally different from a mere capacity of acquiring learning, or collecting knowledge from the discoveries of others. It elevates man to a distant resemblace of his Maker; for the discovery of truth, is the perception of things as they appear to the Divine Mind. In contemplating the human faculties, thus exquisitel) formed, and exactly balanced, we feel the same kind of plea- sure which arises from a view of a magnificent palace, or an extensive and variegated prospect; but with this difference, that the pleasure, in the first instance, is as much superior to that which arises from contemplating the latter objects, as the mind of man is superior, in its importance, to the most finished productions of nature or of art. Dr. Cum.: n possessed not only the genius that has been described, but an uncommon share of learning, reading, and knowledge. His learning wa.i of a peculiar and useful kind—He ap- peared to have overstepped the slow and tedious forms of the schools, and, by the force of his understanding, to have seized 'jpon the great ends of learning, without the assistance of many of those means which were contrived for the use of less active minds. He read the ancient Greek and Roman wri- ters only for the sake of the knowledge which they contained, without wasting any of the efforts of his genius in attempting DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. 319 to imitate their style. He was intimately acquainted with modern languages, and through their means, with the im- provements of medicine in every country in Europe. Such was the facility with which he acquired a language, and so great was his enterprise in his researches in medicine, that I once heard him speak of learning the Arabic for the sake of reading Avicenna in the original, as if it were a matter of as little difficulty to him, as it was to compose a lecture, or or to visit a patient. ' Dr. Cullen's reading was extensive, but it was not con- fined wholly to medicine. He read books upon all subjects ; and he had a peculiar art of extracting something from all of them which he made subservient to his profession. He was well acquainted with ancient and modern history, and de- lighted in the poets, among whom Shakespeare was his favourite. The history of our globe, as unfolded by books of geography and travels, was so familiar to him that strangers could not converse with him, without supposing that he had not only travelled, but that he had lived every where. His memory had no rubbish in it. Like a secretory organ, in the animal body, it rejected every thing in reading that could not be applied to some useful purpose. In this he has given the world a most valuable lesson, for the difference between error and useless truth is very small; and a man is no wiser for knowledge which he cannot apply, than he is rich from possessing wealth, which he cannot spend. Dr. Cullen's knowledge was minute in every branch of medicine. He was an accurate anatomist, and an ingenious physiologist. He enlarged the boundaries, and established the utility of Chemistry, and thereby prepared the way for the discoveries and fame of his illustrious pupil Dv. Black 520 AN EULOGIUM UPON He stripped Materia Medica, of most of the errors that bad be.en accumulating in it for two thousand years, and reduced it to a simple and practical science. He was intimately ac- quainted with all the branches of natural history and philoso- phy. He had studied every ancient and modern system of physic. He found the system of Dr. Boerhave universally adopted when he accepted a chair in the University of Edin- burgh. This system was founded chiefly on the supposed presence of certain acrid particles in the fluids, and in the departure of these, in point of consistency, from a natural state. Dr. Cullen's first object was to expose the errors of this pathology ; and to teach his pupils to seek for the causes of diseases in the solids. Nature is always coy. Ever since she was driven from the heart, by the discovery of the circula- tion of the blood, she has concealed herself in the brain and nerves. Here she has been pursued by Dr. Cullen; and if he has not dragged her to public view, he has left us a clue which must in time conduct us to her last recess in the hu- man body. Many, however, of the operations of nature in the nervous system have been explained by him; and no candid man will ever explain the whole of them, without acknowledging that the foundation of his successful inquiries was laid by the discoveries of Dr. Cullen. He was intimately acquainted with the histories and dis- tinctions of the diseases of all countries, ages, stations, occu- pations, and states of society. While his great object was to explode useless remedies, he took pains to increase the influence of diet, dress, air, exercise, and the action of the mind, in medicine. In a word he was a great practical phy- sician ; and he has left behind him as many monuments of his success in curing diseases, as he has of accuracy and ingenuity in describing their symptoms and explaining their causes. DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. 321 But his knowledge was not confined wholly to those sciences which are intimately connected with medicine. His genius was universal, as to natural and artificial subjects. He was minutely acquainted with the principles and practices of all the liberal, mechanical, and chemical arts ; and trades- men were often directed by him to new objects of observation and improvement in their respective occupations. He de* lighted in the study of agriculture, and contributed much to excite that taste for agricultural science, which has of late years so much distinguished the men of genius and leisure in North-Britain. I have been informed, that he yielded at last to that passion for rural improvements, which is com- mon to all men, and amused himself in the evening of his life by cultivating a farm in the neighbourhood of Edinburgh. Happy would it be for the interests of agriculture, if physi- cians in all countries, would imitate Dr. Cullen by an attach- ment to this noble science; for their previous studies are of such a nature as frequently to enable them to arrive at im- provements in it without experiments, and to apply the ex- periments of others^ in the most extensive and profitable manner. Dr. Cullen's publications were few in number compared with his discoveries. They consist of his Elements of Phy- siology, his Nosologia Methodica, his First Lines of the Practice of Physic, an Essay upon the Cold produced by Eva- poration, published in the second volume of the Physical and Literary Essays of Edinburgh, a Letter to Lord Cathcart up- on the method of recovering persons supposed to be dead from drowning, and a system of the Materia Medica. These are all the works which bear his name ; but the fruits of his inquiries are to be found in most of the medical publications T t 322 AN EULOGIUM UPON that have appeared in Great-Britain within the last thirty years. Many of the Theses, published in Edinburgh during his life, were the \ ehicles of his opinions or practice in me- dicine : and few of them contained an important or useful discovery, which was not derived from hints thrown out in his lectures. As a Teacher of medicine, Dr. Cullen possessed many peculiar talents. He mingled the most agreeable eloquence with the most profound disquisitions. He appeared to tighten upon every subject upon which he spoke. His language was simple, and his arrangement methodical, by which means he was always intelligible. From the moment he ascended his chair, he commanded the most respectful attention from his pupils, insomuch that I never saw one of them discover a sign of impatience during the time of any of his lectures. In the investigation of truth, he sometimes ventured into the regions of conjecture. His imagination was an hot-bed of hypotheses, which led him to constant observation and ex- periment. These often proved the seeds of subsequent dis- coveries. It was thus Sir Isaac Newton founded an empire in science ; for most of his discoveries were the result of pre- conceived hypotheses. In delivering new opinions, Dr. Cul- len preserved the strictest integrity. I have known him more than once, refute the opinions which he had taught the preceding year, even before the fallacy of them had been suspected by any of his pupils. Such instances of candor often pass with the vulgar for instability; but they are the truest characteristics of a great mind. To be unchangeable, supposes perpetual error, or a perception of truth without the use of reason; but this sublime act of intuition belongs only to the Deity. DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. There was no tincture of credulity in the mind of Dr. Cul- len. He taught his pupils the necessity of acquiring " the slow consenting academic doubt." I mention these words of the poet with peculiar pleasure, as I find them in my notes of one of his lectures, in which he has delivered rules for judging of the truth of things related as facts; for he fre- quently remarked that there were ten false facts (,if the ex presslon can be allowed) to one false opinion in medicine. His Materia Medica abounds with proofs of the truth of this part of his character. With how much caution does he ad- mit the efficacy of medicines, as related in books, or as sugr- gested by his own experience. Who could have expected to have found so much modesty in the writings of a physician in the 77th year of his age ? But let it be remembered, that that this physician was Dr. Cullen: and that he always pre- ferred utility to novelty, and loved truth, more than fame. He took great pains to deliver his pupils from the undue influence which antiquity and great names are apt to have upon the human mind. He destroyed the superstitious vene- ration which had been paid for many ages to the names of Hippocrates, Galen, and other ancient authors, and inspired his pupils with a just estimate of the writings of modern phy- sicians. His constant aim was to produce in their minds a change from a passive to an active state ; and to force upon them such habits of thinking and observation, as should en- able them to instruct themselves. As he admitted no truth without examination, so he sub- mitted to no custom in propagating it that was not reasonable. He had a principal share in the merit of delivering medicine from the fetters of the Latin, and introducing the English language, as the vehicle of public instruction in the univer, I j24 AN" EULOGIUM UPON sity of Edinburgh. Much of the success of the revolution he effected in medicine, I believe, may be ascribed to this cir- cumstance. Perhaps the many improvements which have lately been made in medicine, in the British dominions, may likewise be ascribed to the present fashionable custom of communicating medical knowledge in the English language. By this means, our science has excited the notice and in- quiries of ingenious and observing men in all professions, and thereby a kind of galaxy has been created in the hemis- phere of medicine. By assuming an English dress, it has moreover been prepared more easily to associate with other sciences ; from each of which it has received assistance and support. In his intercourse with his pupils Dr. Cullen was truly kind and affectionate. Never have I known a man who pos- sessed in a higher degree those qualities Avhich seize upon every affection of the heart. He knew the rare and happy arts, as circumstances required, of being affable without being sociable; sociable without being familiar; and familiar, without losing a particle of respect. Such was the interest he took in the health, studies, and future establishment of all his pupils, that each of them believed that he possessed a pre-eminence in his friendship; while the equal diffusion of his kind offices proved that he was the common friend and father of them all. Sometimes he would lay aside the dis- tance, without lessening the dignity of the professor, and mix with his pupils at his table upon terms of the most endearing equality. -Upon these occasions his social affections seemed to have an influence upon his mind. Science, sentiment, and- convivial humor, appeared for hours together to strive which should predominate in his conversation. I appeal to , you, gentlemen, who have shared in the pleasure which I DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. Z2S have described, for the justice of the picture which I have drawn of him at.his hospitable table. You will recollect, with me, how agreeably he accommodated himself to our different capacities and tempers; how kindly he dissipated our youthful blushes, by inviting us to ask him questions; and how much he taught us, by his inquiries, of the nature of the soil, climate, products, and diseases of even our own country. From the history that has been given of Dr. Cullen, we shall not be surprised at the reputation which he gave to the university of Edinburg, for upwards of thirty years. The city of Edinburg during his life became the very atmosphere of medicine. But let me not here be unjust to the merits of his illustrious colleagues. The names of Whytt, Rutherford, the Monroes, Black, the Gregories, Hope, and Home, will always be dear to the lovers of medical science. May every healing plant bloom upon the graves of those of them who are departed! and may those who have survived him together with their new associate, the learned and excellent Dr. Dun- can, long continue to maintain the honor of that justly cele- brated school of medicine! It remains now that I add a short account of Dr. Cullen's conduct as a physician and a man. In his attendance upon his patients, he made their health his first object, and thereby confirmed a line between the mechanical and liberal professions ; for while wealth is pur- sued by the former, as the end of labour, it should be left by the latter, to follow the more noble exertions of the mind. So gentle and sympathizing was Dr. Cullen's manner in a rick room, that pain and distress seemed to be suspended in ♦ .726 AN EULOGIUM UPON his presence. Hope followed his footsteps, and death ap- peared frequently to drop his commission in a combat with bis skill. He was compassionate and charitable to the poor; and from his pupils, who consulted him in sickness, he con- stantly refused to receive any pecuniary satisfaction for his services. In his intercourse with the world he exhibited the man- ners of a well-bred gentleman. He exercised upon all occa- sions the agreeable art, in which true politeness is said to consist, of speaking with civility, and listening with attention to every body. His conversation was at all times animated, agreeable and instructing. Few persons went into his com- pany without learning something; and even a common thought, by passing through his mind, received an impres- sion, which made it ever afterwards worthy of being pre- served. He was a strict economist of time. He seldom went out ©f his house in his carriage, or a sedan chair, without a book in his hand; and he once told me , that he frequently em- ployed one of his sons to read to him after he went to bed, ♦hst he might not lose that portion of time which passes be- tween lying down, and falling asleep. He was remarkably punctual to all his professional engage- ments. He appeared to consider time as a species of property which no man had a right to take from another without his consent. It w:is by means of his economy and punctuality in the i;«e of time, that he accomplished so much in his profession. I have read of some men who have spent more time in their Hoscts, and of others who have done more business; but I DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. have never read, nor heard of a man, who mingled more study and business together. He lived by rule, without sub- jecting himself to the slavery of forms. He was always em- ployed, but never in a hurry; and amidst the numerous and complicated avocations of study and business, he appeared to enjoy the pleasure of society, as if company-keeping and conversation were the only business of his.life. I shall mention but one more trait in the character of Dr. Cullen, and that is, that he was distinguished by no one sin- gularity of behaviour from other men. It is true he stood alone; but this singularity was occasioned, not by his quit- ting the society of his fellow-men by walking on their left, or right side, but by his walking before them. Eccentricities in behaviour are the offspring of a lively fancy only, but or- der is inseparably connected with real genius. The actions of the former may be compared to the crooked flash of dis- tant lightning, while the latter resembles in its movements the steady revolutions of the heavenly bodies. In reviewing the character which has been given of Dr. Cullen* I am forced to make a short digression, while I do homage to the profession of physic by a single remark. So «eat are the blessings which mankind derive from it, that if every other argument failed to prove the administration of a providence in human affairs, the profession of medicine alone would be sufficient for that purpose. Who can think of the talents, virtues, and services of Dr. Cullen, without believing that the Creator of the world delights in the *PP'^£ creatures, and that his tender mercies are over all his works. For the information of such of the members of our college ttS have not seen Dr. CuUen, it may not be improper to add 328 AN EULOGIUM UPON the following description of his person. He was tall, slender, and had a stoop in his shoulders; his face was long; his under lip protruded a little beyond the upper; his nose was large, and inclined to a point downwards; his eye, which was of a blue colour, was penetrating, but soft; and over his whole face was diffused an air of mildness and thought, which was strongly characteristic of the constant temper and operations of his mind. It pleased God to prolong his life to a good old age. He lived near 78 years. He lived to demonstrate how much the duration of all the faculties of the mind depends upon their constant exercise. He lived to teach his brethren by his ex- ample, that the obligations to acquire and communicate know- ledge, should cease only with health and life; and lastly, he lived to reap the fruits of his labours in the most extensive fame ; for not only his pupils, und his works, had conveyed his reputation; but canvass, paper, and clay, had borne even the image of his person to every quarter of the globe. The public papers, as well as private letters, inform us, that he survived his usefulness but a few months. He resigned his professorship in the autumn of 1789, on account of bodily weakness, and died in the month of January of the present year; a year fatal to the pride of man; for this year Franklin and Howard, as well as Cullen, have mingled with the dust. During the interval between his resignation and his death he received the most affectionate marks of public and private respect. The city of Edinburgh voted him their thanks, and presented him with a piece of plate. This instance of public gratitude deserves our particular attention, as it is more com- mon for, cities to treat their eminent literary characters with neglect during their lives, and centuries afterwards to con* DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. 329 tend for the honor of having given them birth. The different medical societies of Edinburgh followed him to his chamber with addresses full of gratitude and affection. In mentioning these facts, I am led to contemplate the venerable subject of our praises in a situation truly solemn and interesting. How pregnant with instruction is the death-bed of a physician, who has spent a long life in extensive and successful practice! If the sorrows we have relieved are the surest support in our own, how great must have been the consolation which Dr. Cullen derived, in his last hours, from a review of his active and useful life! How many fathers and mothers, husbands and wives, brothers and sisters, whose tears he had wiped away by averting the stroke of death from the objects of their affections, must have presented themselves to his imagina- tion, and soothed his soul with grateful prayers for his eternal welfare! But the retrospect of the services he had rendered to his fellow-creatures, was not confined to the limits of his extensive busines in the city of Edinburgh. While the illus- trious actions of most men may be viewed with a naked eye, the atchievemcnts of Dr. Cullen in the distant regions of humanity and science, can only be perceived by the help of a telescope. Let us apply this instrument to discover his ex- ploits of beneficence in every quarter of the world. He had filled the capitals, and most of the towns of Great-Britain and Ireland with eminent physicians. Many of his pupils had arrived at the first honors in their profession in the prin- cipal cities on the continent of Europe. Many of them had extended the blessings of his improvements in the principles and practice of medicine, to every British settlement in the East and West Indies, and to every free state in America. But the sum of his usefulness did not end here. He had taught the different Professors in the University of Pennsyl- Uu 330 AN EULOGIUM UPON vania, the art of teaching others the most successful methods of curing diseases, and thereby he had conveyed the benefits of his discoveries into every part of the United States. How great was the mass of such accumulated beneficence! and how sublime must have been the pleasure which the review of it created in his mind! Had it been possible for the merit of such extensive and complicated services to mankind to have rescued one mortal frorh the grave, Dr. Cullen had never died. But the decree of death is universal, and even the healing art, is finally of no effect in saving the lives of those who have exercised it with the most success in saving the lives of others. Dr. Cullen is now no more. What a blank has been produced by his death in the great volume of science! Be- hold ! The Genius of Humanity weeping at his feet, while the Genius of Medicine lifts up the key, which fell from Iris hand with his last breath, and with inexpressible concern, cries out, " to whom shall I give this instrument ? Who now will unlock for me the treasures of universal nature ?" Venerable Shade, adieu! What though thy American pupils were denied the melancholy pleasure of following thee from thy Professor's-chair to thy sick bed, with their effu- sions of gratitude, and praise! What though we did not share in the grief of' thy funeral obsequies, and though we shall never bedew vrith our tears the splendid monument which thy affectionate and grateful British pupils have decreed for thee in the metropolis of thy native country; yet the re- membrance of thy talents and virtues, shall be preserved in each of our bosoms, and never shall we return in triumph from beholding the efficacy of medicine in curing a disease, without feeling our obligations for the instructions we have derived from thee ! DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. 331 i repeat it again, Dr. Cullen is now no more----No more, I mean, a pillar and ornament of an ancient seat of science— no more, the delight and admiration of his pupils—.no more the luminary of medicine to half the globe—no more the friend and benefactor of mankind.----But I would as soon be- lieve that our solar system was created only to amuse and perish like a rocket, as believe that a mind endowed with such immense powers of action and contemplation had ceased to exist. Reason bids us hope that he will yet live—And Revelation enables us to say, with certainty and confidence, that he shall again live----Fain would I lift the curtain which separates eternity from time, and inquire----But it is not for mortals to pry into the secrets of the invisible world. Such was the man whose memory we have endeavoured to celebrate. He lived for our benefit. It remains only that we improve the event of his death in such a manner, that he may die for our benefit likewise. For this purpose I shall finish our Eulogium with the following observations. I. Let us learn from the character of Dr. Cullen duly to estimate our profession. While Astronomy claims a Newton, and Electricity a Franklin, Medicine has been equally ho- noured by having employed the genius of a Cullen. When- ever therefore we feel ourselves disposed to relax in our stu- dies, to use our profession for selfish purposes, or to neglect the poor, let us recollect how much we lessen the dignity which Dr. Cullen has conferred upon our profession. II By the death of Dr. Cullen the republic of medicine hasdostoneofits most distinguished and useful members. It is incumbent upon us therefore to double our diligence in order to supply the loss of our indefatigable fellow-citizer,. 332 AN EULOGIUM UPON That physician has lived to little purpose, who does not leave his profession in a more improved state than he found it. Let us remember, that our obligations tq add something to the capital of medical knowledge, are equally binding with our obligations to practise the virtues of integrity and humanity in our intercourse with our patients. Let no useful fact there- fore, however inconsiderable it may appeaf, be kept back from the public eye; for there are mites in sciendb as well as in charity, and the remote consequences of both are often alike important and beneficial. Facts are the morality of medicine. They are the same in all ages and in all countries. They have preserved the works of the immortal Sydenham from being destroyed by their mixture with his absurd theo- ries ; and under all the revolutions in systems that will proba- bly take place hereafter, the facts which are contained in Dr. Cullen's works, will constitute the best security for their safe and grateful reception by future ages. III. Human nature is ever prone to extremes. While we celebrate the praises of Dr. Cullen, let us take care lest we check a spirit of free inquiry, by too great a regard for his authority in medicine. I well remember an observation suited to our present purpose which he delivered in his intro- duction to a course of lectures on the Institutes of Medicine in the year 1766. After speaking of the long continued and extensive empire of Galen in the schools of physic, he said, " It is a great disadvantage to any science to have been im- » proved by a great man. His authority imposes indolence, « timidity, or idolatry upon all who come after him."—.Let us avoid these evils in our veneration for Dr. Cullen. To believe in great men, is often as great an obstacle to the pro- gress of knowledge, as to believe in witches and conjurers. I: is the image worship of science; for error is as much an DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. 333 attribute of man, as the desire of happiness; and I think I have observed, that the errors of great men partake of the dimensions of their minds, and are often of a greater magni- tude than the errors of men of inferior understanding. Dr. Brown has proved the imperfection of human genius, by ex- tending some parts of Dr. Cullen's system of physic, and by correcting some of its defects. But he has left much to be done by his successors. He has even bequeathed to them the labor of removing the errors he has introduced into medi- cine by his neglect of an important principle in the animal economy, and by his ignorance of the histories and symp- toms of diseases. Perhaps no system of medicine can bo perfect, while there exists a single disease which we do not know, or cannot .cure. If this be true, then a complete sys- tem of medicine cannot be formed, till America has furnished descriptions and cures of all her peculiar diseases. The United States have improved the science of civil government. The freedom of our constitutions, by imparting vigor and independence to the mind, is favourable to bold and original thinking upon all subjects. Let us avail ourselves therefore of this political aid to our researches, and endeavour to obtain histories and cures of all our diseases, that we may thereby contribute our part towards the formation of a complete sys- tem of medicine. As a religion of some kind is absolutely necessary to promote morals; so system-s of medicine of some kind, are equally necessary to produce a regular mode of practice. They are not only necessary, but unavoidable in medicine; for no physician, nay more, no empire, prac- tices without them. The present is an age of great improvement. While the application of reason to the sciences of government and reli- vrion, is daily meliorating the condition of mankind, it is 334 AN EULOGIU : UPON DR. WILLIAM CULLEN. agreeable to observe the influence of medicine, in lessening human misery, by abating the mortality or violence of many diseases. The decrees of heaven appear to be fulfilling by natural means; and if no ancient prophecies had declared it, the late numerous discoveries in medicine would authorize us to say, that the time is approaching, when not only tyranny, discord and superstition shall cease from our world, but when diseases sha^l be unknown, or cease to be incurable; and when old age shall be the only outlet of human life, " Thus heaven-ward all things tend." In that glorious sera, every discovery in medicine shall meet with its full reward ; and the more abundant gratitude of posterity to the name of Dr. Cullen; shall then bury in oblivion the feeble attempt of this day to comply with your vote to perpetuate his fame. An eulogium upon david rittenhouse, late PRESI- DENT OF THE AMERICAN PHILOSOmiCAL SOCIETY ; DE- LIVERED BEFORE THE SOCIETY IN THE FIRST PRESBY- TERIAN CHURCH IN HIGH-S-TREET, PHILADELPHIA, C S THE 17TH DECEMBER, 1796, AGREEABLY TO APPOINT* MENT, AND PUBLISHED AT THE REQUEST OF THE SOCI* ETY. Gentlemen of the Philosopftical Society, Friends and Colleagues, E are assembled this day upon a mournful occasion. Death has made an inroad upon our Society. Our illustrious and beloved President, is no more. Ritten- house, the ingenious, the modest and the wise—Rittiin- Kouse, the friend of God and man, is now no more !------- For this, the temple of science is hung in mourning—for this our eyes now drop a tributary tear. Nor do we weep alone. __The United States of America sympathize in cur grief, for his name gave a splendor to the American character, and the friends of humanity in distant parts of the world, unite with us hi lamenting our common los-.—for he belonged to the whole human race. . By your vote to perpetuate the memory of this great and good man, you have made a laudable uuempt to rescue phi- losophers from their humble rank in the history of mankind. It is to them we owe our knowledge and possession of most of the necessaries and conveniences of life. To procure these w 3G6 AN EULOGIUM UPON blessings for us, " they trim their midnight lamp, and hang p'er the sickly taper." For us, they traverse distant regions, expose themselves to the inclemencies of the weather, mingle ■with savages and beasts of prey, and in some instances, evince their love of science and humanity by the sacrifice of their lives. The amiable philosopher whose talents and virtues are to •be the subject of the following eulogium, is entitled to an un- common portion of our gratitude and praise. He acquired his knowledge at the expense of uncommon exertions, he performed sei vices of uncommon difficulty, and finally he im- paired his health, and probably shortened his life, by the ar- dor of his studies and labors for the benefit of mankind. In attempting to discharge the difficult and painful duty you have assigned to me, it will be necessary to give a short account of the Ufe of Mr. Rittenhouse, inasmuch as several of the most interesting parts of his character are intimately connected with it. The village of Germantown in the neighbourhood of this city, had the honor of giving birth to this distinguished philosopher on the 8th day of April, in the year 1732. His ancestors migrated from Holland about the beginning of the present century. They were distinguished, together with his parents, for probity, industry, and simple manners. It is from sourses thus pure and retired, that those talents and virtues have been chiefly derived, which have in all ages enlightened the world. They prove by their humble origin, that the Supreme Being has not surrendered up the direction of human affairs to the advantages acquired by accident or vice, and they bear a constant and faithful testimony of his DAVID RITTENHOUSE. S37 impartial goodness, by their necessary and regular influence in equalizing the condition of mankind. This is the divine order of things, and every attempt to invert it, is a weak and unavailing effort to wrest the government of the world from the hands of God, The early part of the life of Mr. Rittenhouse was spent in agricultural employments under the eye of his father, in the county of Montgomery, twenty miles from Philadelphia, to which place he removed during the childhood of his son. It was at this place his peculiar genius first discovered itself. His plough, the fences, and even the stones of the field in which he worked, were frequently markeJ with figures which denoted a talent for mathematical studies. Upon finding that the native delicacy of his constitu.ion unfitted him for the labors of husbandry, his parents consented to his learning the trade of a clock and mathematical instru- ment maker. In acquiring the knowledge of these useful arts, he was his own instructor.—.They afforded him great delight inasmuch as they favoured his disposition to inquire into the principles of natural philosophy.—Constant employ- ment of any kind, even in the practice of the mechanical arts has been found, in many instances, to administer vigor to human genius. Franklin studied the laws of nature, while he handled his printing types. The father of Rousseau, a jeweller at Geneva, became acquainted with the principles of national jurisprudence, by listening to his son while he read to him in his shop, the works of Grotius and Puffendorf; and Herschel conceived the great idea of a new planet, while he exercised the humble office of a musician to a marching re- giment. %% 338 AN EULOGIUM UPON It was during the residence of our ingenious philosopher with his father in the country, that he made himself master of Sir Isaac Newton's principia, which he read in the English translation of Mr. Mott. It was here likewise he became ac- quainted with the science of fluxions, of which sublime in- vention he believed himself for a while to be the author, nor did he know for some years afterwards, that a contest had been carried on between Sir Isaac Newton and Leibnitz, for the honor of that great and useful discovery. What a mind was here !--------Without literary friends or society, and with but two or three books, he became, before he had reached his four and twentieth year, the rival of the two greatest mathematicians in Europe ! It was in this retired situation, and while employed in work- ing at his trade, that he planned and executed an orrery, in which he represented the revolutions of the 'heavenly bodies in a manner more extensive and complete, than had been done by any former astronomers. A correct description of this orrery drawn up by the Rev. Dr. Smith, is published in the first volume of our Transactions. This master-piece of ingenious mechanism was purchased by the college of New- Jersey. A second was made by him, after the same model, for the Use of the college of Philadelphia. It now forms part of the philosophical apparatus of the University of Pennsyl- vania, where it has for many years commanded the admira- « tion of the ingenious and the learned, from every part of the world. The reputation he derived from the construction of this orrery, as well as his general character for mathematical knowledge, attracted the notice of his fellow-citizens in Penn- sylvania, and in several of the neighbouring states, but the DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 339 discovery of his uncommon merit belonged chiefly to his brother-in-law, the Rev Mr. Barton, Dr. Smith, and the late Mr. John Lukens, an ingenious mathematician of this city. These gentlemen fully appreciated hb talents, and united in urging him to remove to Philadelphia, in order to enlarge his opportunities of improvement and usefulness. He yielded with reluctance to their advice, and exchanged his beloved retirement in the country for this city, in the year, 1770. Here he continued for several years, to follow his occupation of a clock and mathematical instrument maker. He excelled in both branches of that business. His mathematical instru- ments have been esteemed by good judges to be superior in accuracy and workmanship to any of the same kind that have been imported from Europe. About the time he settled in Philadelphia, he became a member of our Society. His first communication to the So- ciety was a calculation of the transit of Venus as it was to hap- pen on the 3d of June, 1769, in 40° north latitude, and 5 hours west longitude from Greenwich. He was one of a com- mittee appointed by the Society to observe, in the township of Norrington, this rare occurrence in the revolution, of that pla- net, and bore an active part in the preparations which were made forthat purpose. Of this Dr. Smith avIio was likewise of the committee, has left an honourable record in the history of that event which is published in the first volume of the tran- sactions of our Society. " As Mr. Rittenhouse's dwelling (says the Doctor) is about twenty miles north west from Phi- ladelphia ; our other engagements did not permit Mr. Lukens or myself to pay much attention to the necessary preparations; but we knew that we had intrusted them to a gentleman on the spot [meaning Mr. Rittenhouse] who had, joined to a complete skill in mechanics, so extensive and astronomical, 340 AN EULOGIUM UPON and mathematical knowledge, that the use, management and \ even construction of the apparatus, were perfectly familiar to him. The laudable pains he had taken in these material ar- ticles will best appear from the work itself, which he hath committed into my hands, with a modest introduction, giving me a liberty with them, which his own accuracy, taste and Abilities leave no room to exercise." We are naturally led here to take a view of our philoso- pher with his associates in their preparations to observe a phenomenon which had never been seen but twice before by any inhabitant of our earth, which would never be seen again by any person then living, and on which depended very im- portant astronomical consequences. The night before the long expected day, was probably passed in a degree of solici- tude which precluded sleep. How great must have been their joy when he beheld the morning sun, " and the whole horizon without a cloud ;" for such is the description of the day given by Mr. Rittenhouse in the report referred to by Dr. Smith. In pensive silence, and trembling- anxiety they waited for the predicted moment of observation; it came, and brought with it all that had been wished for and expected by those who saw it. In our philosopher, it excited in the instant of one of the contacts of the planet with the sun, an emotion of delight so exquisite and powerful, as to induce fainting. This will readily be believed by those who have known the extent of that pleasure which attends the discovery, or first perception of truth. Soon after this event, we find him acting as one of a committee appointed to observe the transit of Mercury on the 9th of November in the same year. This was likewise done at Norrington. An account of it was drawn up, and published at the request of the committee by Dr. Smith. A minute history of the whole of these events, DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 341 in which Mr. Rittenhouse continued to act a distinguished part, is given in our transactions. It was received with great satisfaction by the. astronomers of Europe, and contributed much to raise the character of our then infant country for astronomical knowledge. In the year 1775, he was appointed to compose and deliver I the annual oration before our society. The subject of it, was the history of astronomy. The language of this oration is simple, but the sentiments contained in it are ingenious, ori- ginal, and in some instances sublime. It was delivered in a feeble voice, and without any of the advantages of oratory, but it commanded, notwithstanding, the most profound atten- tion, and was followed by universal admiration and applause from a crowded and respectable audience. From the contents of this oration, it appears that Astro- nomy was the favourite object of his studies. Attempts have been made to depreciate this branch of natural philosophy, by denying its utility, and application to human affairs.—The opinion is an unjust one, and as it tends to convey a limited idea of the talents of Mr. Rittenhouse, I hope I shall be excused in saying a few words in favour of this science. It is to astronomy we are indebted for our knowledge of navigation, by which means the different parts of our globe have been discovered, and afterwards cemented together by the mutual wants and obligations of commerce. It was astronomy that taught mankind the art of predicting and explaining eclipses of the Sun and Moon, and thereby 4N EULOGIUM UPON fhavcrcd them from the superstition which in the early ages of the world, was connected with those phenomena of nature. We are taught by astronomy to correct our ideas of the visible heavens, and thus by discovering the fallacy of the simple evidence of our senses, to call to their aid, the use of our reason, in deciding upon all material objects of human knowledge. Astronomy delivers the mind from a groveling attachment to the pursuits and pleasure of this world. " Take the miser (says our philosopher in his oration) from the earth, if it be possible to disengage him—he whose nightly rest has been long broken by the loss of a single foot of it, useless perhaps to him; and remove him to the planet Mars, one of the least distant from us—Persuade the ambitious monarch to accompany him, who has sacrificed the lives of thousands of his subjects to an imaginary property in certain small por- tions of the earth, and point out this earth to them, with all its kingdoms and wealth, a glittering star, close by the moon, the latter scarce viriblc, and the former, less bright than our ever.irig star.—They would turn away their disgusted sight from it, not thinking it worth their smallest attention, and seek for consolation, in the gloomy regions of Mars." Once more—the study of astronomy has the most friendly influence upon morais, and religion. " Yes," (says our phi- losopher in another part of his oration) " the direct tendency of this science is to dilate the heart with universal benevo- lence, and to enlarge its views. It flatters no princely vice, nor national depravity. It encourages not the libertine by relaxing any of the precepts of morality, nor does it attempt to undermine the foundations of religion. It denies none of DAVID RITTEMIOUK/E. 341 those attributes, which the wisest and best of mankind have in all ages ascribed to the Deity. Nor does it degrade the human mind from that dignity which is ever necessarv *.ii make it contemplate itself with complacency. None of the so things does astronomy pretend to, and if these things merit the name of philosophy, and the encouragement of a people, then let scepticism flourish, and astronomy lie neglected.—. Let the names of Barkley and Hume become immortal, and that of Newton be lost in oblivion."—. The following is a list of such of Mr. Rittcnhouse's other publications as are contained in the three volumes of our transactions. Observations of the comet which appeared in June and July 1770, with the elements of its motion and the trajectory of its path, in a letter to Dr. William Smith. An easy method of deducing the true time of the sun's passing the meridian, by means of a clock, from a compari- son of four equal attitudes, observed on two succeeding days, without the help of the equation tables, communicated by Dr. William Smith. An explanation of an opticle deception, namely, that .the surfaces of bodies viewed through the double micros.ope, sometimes appear to be reversed, that is, those parts which are elevated seem depressed, and the contrary. An account of a remarkable meteor obsened at Philadel- phia on the 31st of October, 1775, with some conjectures relative to the theory of meteors, in answer to a letter from John Page Esq. giving an account of the same meteor seen in many distant places in Virginia. 344 AN EULOGIUM UPON Conjectures, corroborated by experiments, relative to a new theory of magnetism; in a letter to John Page, Esq. of Virginia. A new method of placing a meridian mark for a transit in- strument within a few feet of the observatory, so as to have all the advantages of one placed at a great distance; in a letter to the Rev. Dr. John Ewing. Observations on a comet discovered in the month of Janu- ary 1784. An explanation of a curious optical phenomenon, namely, if a candle or other luminous body be viewed through a silk umbrella, handkerchief or the like, the luminous body will appear to be doubled; in a letter to Francis Hopkinson, Esq. A series of observations made at sundry times in the years 1784, 85, and 86 on the new planet, or Georgium Sidus, also an observation of the transit of Mercury over the Sun's disk on the 12th of November 1782. An account of three houses in Philadelphia struct with lightning on the 7th of June 1789. An account of the effects of a stroke of lightning upon a house furnished with two metallic conductors on the 17th of August, 1789; in a letter to Mr. Robert Patterson. Astronomical observations made at Philadelphia, contain- ing an account of the eclipse of the Moon on the 2d of No- vember 1789. An account of the transit of Mercury over the Sun's disk, on the 5th of November 1789. DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 345 An account of the eclipse of the Sun, on the. 6th. of No- vember 1790, with an account of corresponding observations, made at the University of William and Mary, in Virginia, by. Dr. J. Madison, and at Washington College, in Maryland, by the Rev. Dr. Smith. Short and elegant theorems for finding the sum of the several powers of the lines, either to a radius of unity, or any other ; in a letter to Mr. Robert Patterson. An account of a comet discovered in the month of January 1793 ; in a letter to Mr. Robert Patterson. Besides these publications, our society is in possession of the following communications from Mr. Rittenhouse, which are now in the press and will be speedily published in the fourth volume of our transactions. A method of determining the true plane of a planet in an eliptical form by converging series, directly from the mean anomaly. A new and easy method of calculating logarithms; in a letter to Mr. Rober Patterson. A description of an improvement on pendulum clocks, by which the error arising from the different density, or resistance of the medium in which the pendulum vibrates, is effectually obviated. Lastly, experiments on the expansion of wood by heat. Talents so splendid, and knowledge so practical in mathe- maticks, are Uke mines of precious metals. They become Y y ^46 AN EULOGIUM UFON public property by universal consent. The State of Pennsyl- vania was not insensible of the wealth she possessed in the mind of Mr. Rittenhouse. She claimed hira as her own, and employed him in business of the most important nature. In the year 1779 he was appointed by the legislature of Pennsylvania, one of the commissioners for adjusting a terri- torial dispute between Pennsylvania and Virginia, and to his talents, moderation and firmness, were ascribed in a great degree, the satisfactory termination, of that once alarming controversy in the year 1785. In the year 1784 he assisted in determining the length of five degrees of longitude from a point on the Delaware, in order to fix the western limits of Pennsylvania. In 1786, he was employed in fixing the northern line which divides Pennsylvania from New-York. But the application of his talents and knowledge to the set- tlement of territorial disputes, was not confined to his native state. In the year 1769, he was employed in settling the limits between New-Jersey and New-York, and in 1787 he was called upon to assist in fixing the boundary line between the States of Massachusetts and New-York. This Jast busi- ness, which was executed with his usual precision and inte- grity, was his farewell peace offering to the union and happi- ness of his country. In his excursions through the wilderness, he carried with him his habits of inquiry and observation. Nothing in our moun- tains, soils, rivers, and springs escaped his notice. It is to be lamented that his private letters, and the memories of his friends, are the only records of what he collected upon these DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 347 occasions. Philosophers, or naturalist, whosoever thou art! that shalt hereafter traverse the unfrequented woods of our state, forget not to respect the paths, first marked by the feet of this ingenious and faithful servant of the public. Honour the fountains consecrated to science by his skilful hand, and inhale with double pleasure the pure atmosphere of the mountains, on which he renewed his acquaintance with tht canopy of heaven, after passing whole weeks in forests so shady, as to conceal from him the rays of the sun. And citizens of Penn- sylvania, friends and patrons of literature, be grateful for his services. Let the remembrance of them be dear to the pre- sent generation, and let a part of the state distinguished in a 4nore especial manner for its resources in natural knowledge, bear his name with honor to the latest posterity. In the year 1791, he was chosen successor to Dr. Franklin in the chair of our society. In this elevated station, the highest that philosophy can confer in our country, his con- duct was marked by its usual line of propriety and dignity. Never did the artificial pomp of station command half the respect, which followed his unassuming manners in the dis- charge of the public duties of this office. You will often re- collect, gentlemen, with a mixture of pleasure and pain, the delightful evenings you passed in the society, every time he presided in your meeting. They were uniformly charac- terized by ardor in the pursuits of science, urbanity and bro- therly kindness. His attachment to the interests of the so- ciety was evinced soon after he accepted of the President's chair, by a donation of three hundred pounds. But his talents and knowledge were not limited to mathe- matical or material subjects ; his mind was a repository of the knowledge of all ages and countries. He had early and deeply 348 AN EULOGIUM UPON studied most of the different systems of theology. He was well acquainted with practical metaphysicks. In reading tra- vels he took great delight. From them, he drew a large fund of his knowledge of the natural histor)' of our globe He possessed talents for music and poetry, but the more serious and necessary pursuits of his life, prevented his devoting much time'to the cultivation of them. He read the English poets with great pleasure. The muse of Thomson charmed him most. He admired his elegant combination of philoso- phy and poetry. However opposed these studies may appear, they alike derive their perfections from extensive and accurate observations of the works of nature. He was intimately ac- quainted with the French, German and Dutch languages* the two former of which he acquired without the assistance of a master. They served the valuable purpose of conveying to him the discoveries of foreign nations, and thereby enabled him to prosecute his studies with, more advantage, in his na- tive language. In speaking of Mr. Rittenhouse, it has been common to lament his want of what is called a liberal education.—Were feducation what it should be, in our public seminaries, this would have been a misfortune, but conducted as it is at pre- sent, agreeably to the systems adopted in Europe in the six- teenth century, I am disposed to believe that his extensive knowledge, and splendid character are to be ascribed chiefly to his having escaped the pernicious influence of monkish learnihg upon his mind in early life. Had the usual forms of a public education in the United States been imposed upon him; instead of revolving through life in a planetary orbit, he would probably have consumed the force of his genius by fluttering around the blaze of an evening taper. Rittenhouse the philosopher, and one of the luminaries of the eighteenth DAVID RITTENHOUSE. S49 century, might have spent his hours of study in composing- syllogism, or in measuring the feet of Greek and Latin poetry. It will be honourable to the citizens of the United States, to add, that they were not insensible of the merit of our phi- losopher. Inventions and improvements in every art and science, were frequently submitted to his examination, and were afterwards patronised by the public, according as they were approved by him. Wherever he went, he met with public respect, and private attentions. But his reputation was not confined to his native country. His name was known and abmired in every region of the earth, where science and ge- nius are cultivated and respected.* Such were the talents and knowledge, and such the fame, of our departed President! His virtues now demand our tri- bute of praise__And here, I am less at a loss to know what to say, than what to leave unsaid. We have hitherto beheld him as a philosopher, soaring like the eagle, until our eyes have been dazzled by his near approaches to the sun. We shall now contemplate him at a less distance, and behold him in the familiar character of a man, fulfilling his various duties in their utmost extent. If any thing has been said of his talents and knowledge that has excited attention, or kindled * The degree of master of Arts was conferred upon him by the College of Philadelphia, in 1768. The same degree was conferred upon him by the College of William and Mary, in Virginia, in 1784. In the year 1789, he received the de- cree of Doctor of Laws from the College of New-Jersey. He was elected a Member of the American Academy of /m ts and Sciences at Boston in 1782, and of the Royal Society in London in 1795. obO AN EULCGIUM UP0S desires in the younger members of our society, to pursue him in his path of honor, let me request them not to forsake me here. Come, ancl loam by his example, to be good, as well as great.------His virtues furnish the most shining models for your imitation, for they were never obscured in any situation or stage of his life, by a single cloud of weak- ness or vice. As the source of these virtues, whether of a public or private nature, I shall first mention his exalted sense of moral obligation, founded upon the revelation of the perfections of the Supreme Being. This appears from many passages in his oration, and from his private letters to his friends. In his oration we find the following pious senti- ment. " Should it please that Almighty Power who hath placed us \i a world in which we are only permitted * to look about us and to die,' to indulge us with existence throughout that half of eternity which still remains unspent, and to con- duct us through the several stages of his works, here (mean- ing in the study of astronomy) is ample provision made for employing rvtry faculty of the mind, even allowing its pow- cv, to be enlarged through an endless repetition of ages. Let us not complain of the vanity of this world, and that there is nothing in it capable of satisfying us. Happy in those wants __happy in those desires, forever in succession to be gratified —Jiappv in a continual approach to the Deity." ■" ! muM, confess that I am not one of those sanguine spirits wLo seem to think that when the withered hand of death has (!r,wn up the curtain of eternity, all distance between the eM.itnrc and the Creator, and between finite and infinite, * :il be annihilated. Every enlargement of our faculties—. i-Fer ;>h' happiness conferred upon uS, every step we ad- vance towards the Divinity, will Very probably render us more and mere sensible of his inexhaustible store's of com- rx.uinc;lik bliss, .ind of his inaccessible, perfections." DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 351 There appears to be a natural connection between a know- ledge of the works of nature and just ideas of the divine per- fections ; and if philosophers have not in all ages been equally devout with our President, it becomes us to acquire how far the beneficial influence of philosophy upon religion, may have been prevented by their minds being pre-occupied in early life with the fictions of ancient poets, and the vices of the heathen gods. It remains yet to be determined, whether all the moral as well as natural attributes of the Deity may not be discovered in the form, and economy of the material world, and whether that righteousness which descended from heaven near eighteen hundred years ago, may not wait for philosophical truth to spring up from the earth, in or- der by uniting with it, to command universal belief and obedience. This opinion, as far as it relates to one of the moral attributes of the Deity, seems to have been ad- mitted by our philosopher in the following elegant and pious extract from a letter to one of his friends " give me leave (says he) to mention two or three proofs of infinite goodness in the works of creation. The first is, possessing goodness in ourselves. Now it is inconsistent with a'.l just reasoning to suppose, that there is any thing good, lovely, or praise-wor- thy in us, which is not possessed in an infinitely higher degree by that Being who first called us into existence. In the next place I reckon the exquisite and innocent delight that many things around us are calculated to afford us. In this light the beauty and fragrance of a single rose is a better argument for divine goodness than a luxuriant field of wheat. For if we can suppose that we were created by a malevolent Being with a design to torment us for his amusement, he must have furnished us with the means of subsistence, and either have made our condition tolerable, or not have left the means *f quitting it at pleasure, in our own power. Such 5.V2 AN EULOGIUM UPON being my opinions, you will not wonder at my fondness for what Mr. Addison calls * the pleasures of the imagination.' They are all to me, so many demonstrations of infinite good- ness." If such be the pious fruits of an attentive examination of the works of the Creator, cease ye ministers of the gospel to defeat the design of your benevolent labors, by interposing the common studies of the schools between our globe, and and the minds of young people. Let their first ideas be those which are obtruded upon their senses, by the hand of nature. Permit the firmament of heaven, and the animal, vegetable and mineral productions of the earth, to instruct them in the wisdom and goodness of the Creator, and let the •effects of physical evil upon general happiness, vindicate the divine government, in permitting the existence of moral evil in our world- Thus the perverse passions of man, may be made to unite with'storms and tempests, in furnishing proofs of the goodness of the Creator of the Universe. But the religion of Mr. Rittenhouse, was not derived wholly from his knowledge and admiration of the material world. He believed in the Christian revelation. Of this, he gave many proofs, not only in the conformity of his life, to the precepts of the gospel, but in his letters and conversation. I well recollect in speaking to me of the truth and excellency of the Christian religion, he mentioned as an evidence of its divine origin, that the miracles of our Saviour differed from all other miracles, in being entirely of a kind and benevolent nature. It is no small triumph to the friends of Revelation to observe, in this age of infidelity, that our religion has been admitted and even defended by men of the most exalted un- derstanding, and of the strongest reasoning powers. The DAVID RITTENHOUSE 355 single testimony of David Rittenhouse in its favor, outweighs the declamations of whole nations against it.* As the natural effect of his belief in the relation of the whole human race to each other in a common Father and Redeemer, he embraced the whole family of mankind in the arms of his benevolence. The force and extent of this virtue in his heart, will appear from my reading one more extract from his oration. I am aware how much I suffer by intro- ducing quotations from that eloquent performance, for they will cast a shade upon all I have said, or shall say upon this occasion. " How far, (says our philosopher) the inhabitants of the other planets may resemble men, we cannot pretend to say. If like them they were created liable to fall, yet some, if not all of them may still retain their original rectitude. We will hope they do ; the thought is comfortable.-—Cease then Gal- lileo to improve thy optic tube, and thou great Newton, for- bear thy ardent search, into the mysteries of nature, lest ye make unwelcome discoveries. Deprive us not of the pleasure of believing that yonder orbs, traversing in silent majesty the etherial regions, are the peaceful seats of innocence and bliss, where neither natural or moral evil has ever intruded, and where to enjoy with gratitude and adoration the Creator's bounty, is the business of existence. If their inhabitants re- semble man in their faculties and affections, let us suppose * Since the publication of the Eulogium in a pamphlet, I have received the following account of Mr. Rittenhouse's reli- gious principles, in a letter from his widow, dated August 20th 1797. " '1 hat you were sufficiently authorized to assert what you did respecting Mr. Rittenhouse's religious principles, I Zz 354 AV EULOGIUM UPON that they are wise enough to govern themselves according to the dictates of that reason, God has given in such a man- ner, as to consult their own, and each other's happiness up- on all occasions. But if on the contrary, they have found it necessary to erect artificial fabrics of government, let us not suppose they have done it with so little skill, and at such an enormous expense, as to render them a misfortune, instead of a blessing.—We will hope that their statesmen are patriots, and that their kings (if that order of beings has found admit- tance there) have the feelings of humanity. Happy people! —and perhaps more happy still, that all communication with us is denied. We have neither corrupted you with our vices, nor injured you by violence. None of your sons and daugh- ters have been degraded from their native dignity, and doom- ed to endless slavery in America, merely because their bodies may be disposed to reflect, or absorb the rays of light, dif- ferent from ours. Even you, inhabitants of the Moon, situ- ated in our very neighbourhood, are effectually secured from the rapacious hands of the oppressors of our globe. And the utmost efforts of the mighty Frederick, the tyrant of the North, and scourge of mankind, if aimed to disturb your peace, becomes inconceivably ridiculous and impotent." now add my testimony to what you have said, for well I know the great truths of religion engaged much of his attention; and indeed were interwoven with almost every important con- cern of his life. I do not recollect, if in any of the conversa- tions I have had with you, I informed you, what I now do, that Di\ Price's opinions respecting Christianity were more in unison with his own, than any others of the divines ; that Dr. Price's sermons was the last book he requested me to read to him, and that the last morning of his life, he reminded me that I had not finished one of the Doctor's discourses which I had began the preceeding evening." DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 355 " Pardon these reflections. They arise not from the gloomy spirit of misanthropy. That Being, before whose piercing eye all the intricate foldings of the human heart, be- come expanded, and illuminated, is my witness with what sincerity, with what ardor—I wish for the happiness of the whole race of mankind.—How much I admire that disposition of lands and seas which affords a communication between dis- tant regions, and a mutual exchange of benefits—How sin- cerely I approve of those social refinements, which add to our happiness, and induce us with gratitude to acknowledge our Creator's goodness, and how much I delight in a parti- cipation of the discoveries made from time to time in nature's works, by our philosophical brethren in Europe. But (adds our philosopher) when I consider that luxury, and her con- stant follower tyranny, which have long since laid the glories of Asia in the dust, are now advancing like a torrent, irresis- tible, and have nearly completed their conquest over Europe —I am ready to wish------vain wish! that nature would raise her everlasting bars between the new and the old world, and make a voyage to Europe as impractkable as one to the moon." As when a traveller in passing through a wilderness, slack- ens his pace to prolong the pleasure of a sudden and unex- pected prospect of a majestic river pouring its waters down the declivity of a cloud-clap't mountain, and spreading ferti- lity and verdure throughout the adjacent vallies, so we feel disposed to pause, and feast upon the sublime sentiments con- tained in the passage which I have read. Citizens of the United States, receive and cherish them as a legacy from a friend, or a brother. Be just, and loose the bands of the African slave. Be wise, and render war odius in our country. Be free, by assuming a national character and name, and be 356 AN EULOGIUM UPON greatly happy, by erecting a barrier against the corruptions in hiorals, government, and religion, which now pervade all the nations of Europe.* But the philanthropy of Mr. Rittenhouse did not consist simply in wishes for the happiness of mankind. He re- duced this divine principle to practice by a series of faith- ful and disinterested services to that part of his fellow crea- tures, to which the usefulness of good men is chiefly confined. His country, his beloved country, was the object of the strongest affections of his heart. For her, he thought, ----for her, he laboured,——and for her, in the hours of her difficulties and danger, he wept,—in every stage of the American revolution. Patriots of 1776, you will acquit me of exaggeration here, for you feel in the recollection of what passed in your own bosoms,, a witness of the truth of each of these assertions. The year of the declaration of Independence, which changed our royal governments *Mr. William Barton, nephew to Mr. Rittenhouse, has favoured me with the following extract of a letter in Septem- ber, 1755, to his brother-in-law, the Rev. Mr. Barton, who was the friend and correspondent of his youth, which shews how early and deeply the principles of universal benevolence were fixed in his mind. " I would sooner give tip my interests in a future state, than be divested of humanity;—J mean that good will I have to the species, although one half of them are said to be fools, and almost the other half knaves. Indeed I am firmly per- suaded, that we are not at the disposal of a Being who has the least tincture of ill-nature, or requires any in us.—.You will laugh at this grave philosophy, or my writing to you on a subject which you have thought of a thousand times: but, can any thing that is serious, be ridiculous ?—Shall we sup- pose Gabriel smiling at Newton, for labouring to demonstrate whether the earth be at rest or not, because the former plainly ft.es it move!" DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 357 into Republics, produced no change in his political principles for he had been educated a Republican by his Lther. I can never forget the pleasure with which he avowed his early but secret attachment to an elective and representative form of government. Often have h heard him above twenty years, ago, predict the immense encrease of talents and knowledge which has been produced by the strength and activity that have been infused into the American mind, by our republi- can constitutions. Often, likewise, at the same remote period of time, have I heard him anticipate with delight, the effects of our revolution in sowing the seeds of a new order of things in other parts of the world. He believed political, as well as moral evil to be intruders into the society of man— that general happiness was the original design, an ultimate end of the divine government, and 'that a time would come, when every part of our globe, would echo back the heavenly proclamation of universal peace on earth, and good will fo man. Let it not be said, that he departed from the duties of a Philosopher, by devoting a part of his time and talents to the safety and happiness of his country. It belongs to monarchies, to limit the business of government to a privileged order of men, and it is from the remains of a monarchical spirit in our country, that we complain when clergymen, physicians, phi- losophers and mechanics, take an active part in civil affairs. The obligations of patriotism are as universal and binding, as those of justice .and benevolence, and the virtuous propen- sities of the human heart are as much resisted by every individual who neglects the business of his country, as they are by the extinction of the domestic affections m a cell. Man was made for a republic, and a republic was made for man, otherwise Divine power and goodness have been wasted, ?>3 AN EULOOU M UPON in the creation and gift of his public affections.—Our philoso- pher adopted thk truth from the evidence of his feelings, in common with the rest of mankind, but it was strongly rein- forced in his mind by numerous analogies of nature. How was it possible for him to contemplate light and air as the common and equal portions of every man, and not acknow- ledge that heaven intended liberty to be distributed in the same manner among the whole human race ! Or how could he behold the beauty and harmony of the universe, as the result of universal and mutual dependence, and not admit that heaven intended rulers to be dependent upon those, for whose benefit alone, all government should exist. To sup- pose the contrary, would be to deny unity and system in the plans cf the great creator of all things. I shall make no apology for these sentiments. They are cot foreign to the solemnity of this discourse. Had I said less of the political principles and conduct of our enlightened President, hundreds and thousands of my fellow-citizens would have accused me, of an act of treachery to his memory. May the time never come, in which the praises of our republican governments, shall not be acceptable to the ears of an American audience ! In the more limited circles of private life, Mr. Rittenhouse -:ommanded esteem and affection. As a neighbour he was jon-l and charitable. His sympathy extended in a certain' degree to distress of every kind, but it was excited with the most force, and the kindest effects, to the weakness, pain and poverty of old age.—.As a friend he was sincere, ardent, :;nd disinterested. As a companion, he instructed upon all subjects. To his happy communicative disposition, I beg leave to f: press my obligations in this public manner. I can DAVID RITTENHOUSE. J59 truly say, after an acquaintance with him for six-and-twenty years, that I never went into his company, without learning something. With pleasure have I looked beyond my pre- sent labours to a time, when his society should constitute one of the principal enjoyments of the evening of my life.—■ But alas! that time, so often anticipated, and so delightful in prospect—will never—.come. I hope it will not be thought that I tread too closely upon his footsteps, when I presume to lift the latch of his door. and to exhibit him in the domestic relations of a husband and father. It was the practice of the philosophers of former ages, to pass their lives in their closets, and to maintain a formal and distant intercourse with their families! but our philosopher was a stranger to pride and imposture in every- thing. His family constituted his chief society, and the most intimate circle of his friends. When the declining state of his health, rendered the solitude of his study, less agreeable than in former years, he passed whole evenings in reading or conversing, with his wife and daughters. Happy family ! so much and so long blessed with such a head I and happier still, to have possessed dispositions and knowledge to discern and love his exalted character, and to enjoy his instructing conversation!—-Thus Sir Thomas Moore lived with l,h, accomplished wife and daughters;—Thus Cicero educated his beloved Tullia ; and in this way only, can the female sex be elevated to that dignity, and usefulness in society, for which they were formed, and by which from their influ- ence upon manners, a new era would be created in the his- tory of mankind. The house and manner of living of our president, exhibi- ■cd the taste of a philosopher, the simplicity of n repu'^.-un. 360 AN EULOGIUM UPOK and the temper of a Christian. He was independent, and contented with an estate, small in the estimation of ambition and avarice, but amply suited to all his wants and desires. He held the office of treasurer of Pennsylvania, by an annual and .unanimous vote of the legislature, between the years 1777, and 1789. During this period, he declined purchasing the smallest portion of the public debt of the state, thereby manifesting a delicacy of integrity, which is known and felt only by pure and elevated minds. In the year 1792, he was persuaded to accept of the office of Director of the mint of the United States. Flis want of health, obliged him to resign it in 1795. Here his conduct was likewise above suspicion, for I have been informed by his colleague in office,* that in several instances, he paid for work done at the mint out of his salary, where he thought the charges for it would be deemed extravagant by the Uni- ted States. His economy extended to a wise and profitable use of his time. No man ever found him unemployed. A« azx apology for detaining a friend a few minutes, while he arranged some papers he had been examining, he said, " that he had once thought health, the greatest blessing in the world, but that he now thought there was one thing of much greater value, and that was time." The propriety of this remark will ap- pear when we consider, that Providence, so liberal in other gifts, bestows this, in a sparing manner. He never gives a second moment, until he has withdrawn the first, and still reserves the third in his own hand. The countenance of Mr. Rittenhouse, was too remarkable to be unnoticed upon this occassion. It displayed such a * Dr. Way. DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 361 mixture of contemplation, benignity, and innocence, that it Was easy to distinguish his person in the largest company, by a previous knowledge of his character. His manners were civil, and engaging to such a degree, that he seldom passed an hour, even in a public house, in travelling through our country without being followed by the good wishes of all who attended upon him. There was no affectation of singularity, in any thing he said or did: even his hand writing, in which this weakness so frequently discovers itself, was simple and intelligible at first sight to all who saw it. Here I expected to have finished the detail of his virtues, but in the neighbourhood of that galaxy created by their con- nected lustre, I behold a virtue of inestimable value, twink- ling like a rare, and solitary star. It is his superlative mo- desty. This heaven born virtue was so conspicuous in every part of his conduct, that he appeared not so much to conceal as to be ignorant of his superiority as a philosopher and a man, over the greatest part of his fellow creatures. In reviewing the intellectual endowments and moral excel- lency of Mr. Rittenhouse, and our late intimate connection with him, we are led to rejoice in being men. We proceed now to the closing scenes of his life. His constitution was naturally feeble, but it was rendered still more so, by sedentary labor, and midnight studies. He was afflicted for many years with a weak breast, which, upon unusual exertions of body or mind, or sudden changes in the weather, became the seat of a painful and harassing disor- der. This constitutional infirmity was not without its uses. It contributed much to the perfection of his virtue, by pro- A a a 362 AK EULOGIUM UPON ducing habitual patience and resignation to the will of heaven and a constant eye to the hour of his dissolution. It was a window through which he often looked with pleasure towards a place of existence, where from the encrease and perfection of his intuitive faculties, he would probably acquire more knowledge in an hour, than he had acquired in his whole life, by the slow operations of reason ; and where, from the greater magnitude and extent of the objects of his contem- plation, his native globe', would appear like his cradle, and all the events of time, like the amusements of his infant years. On the 26th of June, of the present year, the long expect- ed messenger of death, disclosed his commission. In his last illness, which was acute, and short, he retained the usu- al patience and benevolence of his temper. Upon being told that some of his friends had called at his door to enquire how he was; he asked why they were not invited into his cham- ber to see him. " Because (said his wife) you are too weak to speak to them." " Yes (said he) that is u-uo, tut I voukl still have squeezed their hands.4'—.Thus with a heart over- flowing with love to his family, friends, country, and to the whole world, he peacefully resigned his spirit into the hands of his God. Let the day of. his death be recorded in the an- nals of our society, and let its annual return be marked by some public act, which shall characterise his services and our grief, and thereby animate us and our successors, to imitate his illustrious example ! It has been the fashion of late years, to say of persons who had been distinguished in life, when they left the world in a state of indifference to every thing, and believing, and hoping in nothing, that they died like philosophers. Very DAVID RITTENHOUSE. 363 different was the latter end of our excellent president. He died like a christian, interested in the welfare of all around him—believing in the resurrection, and the life to come, and hoping for happiness from every attribute of the Deity. Agreeably to his request, his body was interred in his ob- servatory near his dwelling house, in the presence of a numerous concourse of his fellow-citizens. It was natural for him in the near prospect of appearing in the presence of his Maker, to feel an attachment to that spot in which he had cultivated a knowledge of his perfections, and held com- munion with him through the medium of his works. Here- after it shall become one of the objects of curiosity in our city. Thither shall the philosophers of future ages resort to do homage to his tomb, and children yet unborn, shall point to the dome which covers it, and exultingly say, " there lies our Rittenhouse." Let us my respected colleagues, repair for a few minutes to that awful spot.—In entering it—we behold the telescope, dear instrument of his discoveries, turned upon its axis, and pointed to the earth, which has closed its master's eyes.-.- How artless—the inscription upon his tombstone!—It con- tains nothing but his name, and the simple record of the days and years of his birth and death.—Very different would have been the monument of his worth and fame, had not the grati- tude and affection of his friends been controuledby his dying request. His head would have reclined in marble, upon the lap of religion. At his feet, science would have sat—bathed in tears; while the genius of republican liberty, in the figure of a venerable hermit, bending over his grave, would have deplored the less of his favourite son.—Alas 1—too—too soon has our beloved president been torn from the chair of our 364 AN EULOGIUM UPON DAVID RITTENHOUSE. society !—Too soon has he laid aside his robes of office, and ceased to minister for us day and night at the alter of science ! —Ah I who now will elevate his telescope, and again direct it towards yonder heavens ? Who now will observe the transit of the planets ? Who now will awaken our nation to view the trackless and stupenduous comet ? Who now will measure the courses of our rivers, in order to convey their streams into our city, for the purposes of health and commerce ? Nature is dumb;----for the voice of her chief interpreter is hushed in death.—In this hour of our bereavement, to whom shall we look ?—but to thee, father of life and light :— thou author of great and good gifts to man. O ! let not thy Sun, thy Moon, and thy Stars now shine unobserved among us! may the genius of our departed president, like the man- tle of thy prophet of old, descend upon some member of our society, who shall, as he did, explain to us the misteries of thy works, and lead us step by step, to thyself, the great overflowing fountain of wisdom, goodness and mercy, to the children of men! FIJVIS. TOO I8a(, ^1 A*.