Class.. L-JBl H-f Book Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2011 with funding from The Library of Congress http://www.archive.org/details/reformerOOnewy THE OR ESSAYS ON SOME IMPORTANT SUBJFXTS. BY A FRIEND TO HIS COUNTRY. Incedis per ignes Suppositos cineri doloso. — Omnia ruunt in pejus. Horacj NEW-YORK/PRINTED. : • • ' SOLD BY DIFFERENT BOOKSELLERS, vwvwvw 1816. it* CI • ••••* •*• \ •« , * * • • • * • • * • *> -• PREFACE. The corruption of the age is a topic of declamation among- men, who, by their manners and actions, seem little disposed to prevent its progress. It is the subject of the vir- tuous a»d religious, who would if possible, impede its conta- gion. But it is not only a source of censure for them, but also for those who talk piously to veil their artifice and moral turpitude. With such, piety is the mask under which they obtain their livelihood ; and to a particular and dangerous clais of these, I would endeavour to call the public attention. From the present ag-e, it is naturally expected, that a re* form in the habitg and manners of the nation should begin. This, in a great measure, falls upon the parents anb instructors of youth, and unless the efforts of both be united, the former in encouraging and supporting the attempts of the latter, the most conscientious preceptors' attempts will but be weak and fruitless. Men of speculation may wish well to virtue ; moralists may recommend her by all the graces of composition ; ridicule may point her shafts at the reigning vices of the age; the legislator may enact and the magistrate execute those laws ; but what avail all, if the foundation of virtue be not laid in the heart S If the fountain be foul, its streams will partake of its nature ; it will poison and pollute the most verdant plants which may rise upon its shore. It only needs our care, to cherish the reliques of our first inno- cence, to ripen them into the fairest and most delicious fruit. " Indeed, experience show3 us, that the best education is not of itself sufficient to establish the mind in a habitual uniform course of integrity ; yet the same experience evinces, that nothing is of so much importance towards effecting this great end, as to give the mind ah early turn and bias to the right side, and that without this all other means, humanly speaking, will have but a weak and transient influence." The task, which parents by the law of nature, are obliged to perform, is eminently important. Under their care, their children imbibe notions, which are to be in a great measure their guide through life. Although parents imagine, that the process of education is hot going on, if their offspring be IV PREFACE. not under preceptorial care, yet they are egregiously mis- taken. Under the paternal roof, it is in full operation. — * " Man, regarded as a moral agent, and an accountable be- ing", is a compound of habits. According as his habits are good or bad, he is to be esteemed or qualified as virtuous or vicious. Now it is a matter of common observation, that the kabits of an individual are generally formed in consequence of the precepts with which he is imbued-^and in a much greater degree, in consequence. of the examples which are presented for his imitation. Whosoever, therefore, is under the influ- ence either of the conduct, or the principles of others (and who is not under such influence ?) may be justly said to be so fir educated by them to moral good or ill. Much is it to be wished, that those who are interested in the welfare of youth, would attend to this most serious maxim. It would preserve them from many pernicious errours, and would convince them of the folly of entertaining unreasonable and inconsistent ex- pectations. Such is the homage which vice pays to virtue, that many a parent, who is himself by no means scrupulous of vi- olating the rules of morality, is startled at the idea of early profligacy in his offspring. With a view of promoting the mental improvement of his son, he provides for him the most conscientious and qualified instructors in various departments of knowledge. He spares no expense to promote his progress in science. He is anxious to receive what he imagines he is entitled to expect as the fruit of his parental attention and care. But he is disappointed. The child of his hopes, in- stead of a prodigy of learning and of knowledge, is, when far advanced, in the season of youth, found to be deplorably ignorant, self-willed and untractable. He despises the idea of qualifying himself by useful studies, to adorn the station in life which his birth and his fortune entitle him to occupy. He is given up to frivolity, and having no good qualities, no estimable accomplishments to recommend hirn to honourable notice, he glories in his vices, and makes a public spectacle of his depravity. Shocked and disgusted, #he mortified pa- rent vents his feelings in execrations againsy.he indolence * licv. Shepherd, Joyce, and Carpenter PREFACE. V and unfaithfulness of tutors and preceptors, when in reality he himself is alone to blame. His manners may have been comparatively decent, but he has unfortunately disgraced the maxim of the stern satirist, Maxima debetur puero reverentia. He has thoughtlessly permitted his offspring t@ witness his ir- regularities—and by this combination of wickedness and folly, he has at an early age, blunted in his child the sense of mor- al obligation. In the pursuit of what he deemed allowable amusements, he has permitted the heir of his fortune to asso- ciate, under little or no restraint, with cunning and profligate domestics, who were ever ready to minister to the vices of their superiours. Thus has he in fact trained him up in low ideas to mean pursuits, and yet, he wonders at his unworthy and unbecoming propensities. But his wonder would cease, coujd he penetrate the mist which is poured before the men- tal eye by the power of self-partiality. Then would he be sensible of the capital errour into which he has unconsciously fallen ; and however unpleasant the truth might be, he would be convinced, that his ideas on the subject of the training of youth have been incorrect, and inadequate, and that the mis- erable and disgraceful scenes, which he has witnessed with so much pain and concern, are' the consequences — the natural and necessary consequences of his son's education having been conducted more in the orgies of his father's dining- room, or in the purlieus of the stable-yard, than in the retire- ment of the library, or in the apartment of a morally, qualified tutor. In order to form a moral agent to the highest degrees ef excellence of which hels capable, the most guarded vigil- ance over the propensities of early youth, is requisite on the part of natural superintendants— and it seems to be the wise ordinance of providence, that the anxiety which parents uni- versally entertain for the welfare of their offspring, is calcu- lated, when properly directed, to become a strong promoter, and a steady safe-guard of virtue." Hating seen the consequences which result from the mis- conduct of parents in the presence of their children, I will here make a few observations upon the consequences whieh A 2 Yl PREFACE. follow from placing children under illiterate and immoral pre- ceptors — preceptors with whom we engage to be the guardians and protectors of the learning and moral conduct of our off- spring. That it is a duty enjoined on all, both by the laws of God and the voice of society to instruct them well, no one guided by reason will pretend to deny. That it is an obliga- tion to seek good instructors, without whom this truly great blessing cannot be obtained, when they are absent from the paternal roof, is a fact to which every man must attest. And although this is the case, yet how often do persons violate their judgment, and the laws of the Most High? Instead of employing men to initiate our youth into an acquaintance of general literature, and a knowledge of universal grammar; to imbue their minds with religious principles ; or attempt to enrich them by an intimate acquaintance with the actions and learning of those whose names are registered in the record of immortality, we too often, without due exami- nation into their characters, engage such as are incapacitated to teach, or are only fitted by the whole course of their life, to render their heart profligate, by infusing into their minds improper notions of life and religion. Thus we shall find our- selves imposed upon in the education of our children, and a diminution of our purse without any actual advantage, until we openly resist every attempt of quackery, ignorance and deception. Indeed this requires our most vigilant circum- spection. " The province of education opens a wide field for the knavery of quacks and chartalans, who make a practice of plundering the community. The wretch, who, by his bold and interested presumption, puts to hazard the health of the body, is a subject of merited detestation and reproach ; bift he is still more detestable, who tampers with the health of the youthful mind." It is too evident, that the preceptorial office, has been and is still made a scaffold to wealth and dignities. Young men as soon as they have passed the specified number of years in College, and who are not circumstanced to defray the ex- penses necessarily attendant on the prosecution of any of the learned professions, as they are called (alas ! ignorance and de- ception too often pass in the professions for wisdom and depth PREFACE, VH ©f judgment) frequently commence teachers, merely to obtain such pecuniary aid as to enable them to proceed with honour. And here it is worthy of remark, that not one out of a thousand, who is a preceptor from necessity, and has a par- ticular post of honour in view, bestows the attention which is requisite in the art of teaching, as he is too much occupied in preparing himself for his intended business. Indeed, we have frequently heard these mushroons of a day, these pe- dantic knaves, declare, "that they would not be preceptors during their life, for the world, because they despised the profession ; that none but low persons were to be found en- gaged in the business." Indeed, this is too true. There are too many of this character in modern days, and the reproach, is frequently attached to the office without cause. But why was it not so in ancient times ? Teachers of schools then were respected, and walked in the most splendid circles, were the compeers of princes and kinsfs, and the friends to the human race. And why were they tiot* despised and treated with scorn and contempt ? It was because the Roman and Grecian youth were taught to hold their instructors in a sort of ven- eration ; to look upon them as parents; because in those days, low, ignorant, and illiberal persons were not permitted to undertake the honourable and important task of rearing up men, to be philosophers, poets, orators, Generals, Kings, and Emperours. And you, mighty well-bred gentlemen, do you wish to know why the office of tutor is reckoned a re- proach to a man, among our fashionable and gentle folks ? The cause is evident. It is such men as you, who render it unworthy of notice ,* and lend a weapon to prove your own destruction. It is your preposterous kind of knowledge which you infuse into young gentlemen, assisted by the declamatory precepts of their Socratic fathers and mothers. Hence too we see, the coral lip of young dashing females, pouting with mockery, when they find an instructor in their honourable com- pany ; and their crimson coloured face, when they happen to be addressed by one of these unworthy men ; and their injurious observations upon him, after he has departed. Thus these dignified heroes meet their own reward. They pretend to teach much, but do little ; infuse notions of wealth Vlh fAEFACE. and dignities into youth, to render them contemptible ; de- ceive the public by splendid promises of what they may ex- pect, and receive for their quackery and impudence, their contempt and detestation. With such men at the head of our scholastic institutions, is it not natural to suppose, that it will lead the true spirit of baseness and infidelity to try its deceptions upon the public ? — Thus in a short time, the com- munity lose these ivould be gentlemen, and leave the dregs of society to initiate our youth into such studies and principles as are to render them at a future period, honest and useful members of society, or the open violators of the laws of God and man. Although men who have just escaped from the walls of a College should commence the business of teaching, and pay considerable attention to it, during the time they are employ- ed, yet for some time, the youth committed to their care must labour under inexperience in th£ art of instruction, a difficulty which will always retard tfteir* progress. No man i3 born a teacher. No man therefore is capable of fulfilling the tutorial department unless he has had ample experience,and consequent- ly, inexperience should never be at the head of a seminary. — In a word, I think it would answer an extremely salutary pur- pose, were those who engage a person, to require unquestion- able testimonials, that he has served a sufficient number of years in the academies of those gentlemen, wl*o for their talents and moral conduct should receive the applause and encomiums of competent judges, who should be appointed by the jurisdiction of the various states, to visit our seminaries. This it appears to me, would have an excellent effect. Those who were incapacitated "to teach the young idea how to shoot," from the want of experience, must then practically apply the knowledge 1 which they have gained in' College, before they could derive from it any material emolument ; while the art- ful and illiterate would be wholly prevented from pecuniary aggrandizement. Indeed men ought to remain in an impover- ished and degraded state, who would grow opulent by defraud- ing the community out of their money, and our children out of 'heir precious time — that time which can never be recalled. Tempus prxterntum nunquam revertiUir, Hot. PREFACE* IX But supposing (that which I have already supposed) that those men who have performed their collegiate course of stu- dies, been crowned with nominal honours for their common place learning,, should make the art of teaching 1 their profess- ion, it is too probable, that they would, from their inexpert ence in the art, strike out into the same path as their fellow teachers, adopting such systems as can never render our youth eminent to any great degree in classical or English literature. Youth of a noble mould, and desirous of knowledge, would un- der their direction be entertained with an antiquated system of metaphysical jargon, rules and scraps of the learned lan- guages, the whole tendency of which is calculated to ren- der their students self-conceited, ostentatious and pedantic. Thus instead of teaching our youth a knowledge of the illus* trious writings of the Greeks and Romans, of entering into their spirit, pointing out their deficiences and beauties, im- buing their minds with an admiration of worthy characters, and instructing them in the conduct of life, duties for which they are not capacitated ; they initiate them into a slight ac- quaintance with the laws of Latin and Greek versification, verbal criticism, explaining the various readings of different editors, as though they were all to become versifiers and commentators. Admiring the manner in which they have been educated, our youth have a sort of veneration for their old mode of tu- ition, are caught with this glitter of science, and think that to be wonderous deep and learned, which their shallow un=» derstandings cannot comprehend. Thus fed upon words in stead of things, they think they know every thing, when in reality they know nothing, and presumptuously imagine them- selves qualified to act an honourable part in life. In this state, they enter upon the scene of trial, and to their morth fication, find, at too remote a period, that they have been fed with the scraps and crusts of science and learning. But 1 do not presume to suppose, that every youth is so easily caught by this false show of literature. Some by their native strength of mind, and the precepts of a few wise friends, escape this labyrinth, and get into a smoother tract 3 « fairer views immediately present themselves, the connex- X PREFACE. ion between life and learning clearly appears, knowledge of a legitimate kind begins to dawn upon them ; the several quarters of science display themselves to their sight, and the ascent to the seat of the Muses, becomes inviting "^d easy.'' We need not expect a salutary change in our instructors and system of education, as long as the business is used as an auxiliary to the acquirement of a particular profession. In such a state, slow indeed must be the advancement of science. And should our schools continue as they are at present, I am certain, that instead of seeing literature flourish, and men of genius produced, every day wilt witness our further degradation, but let our youth be once institu- ted into the rudiments of a practical, genuine knowledge, the field of literature would be cultivated, and rendered use. ful to the purposes of life. It will not then excite aston- ishment to see them issue from schools, qualified to act with honour and lustre at the bar, in the pulpit, or the senate. But before this happy change can be effected (as I have already observed) instructors of another character, than those who at present superintend our offspring must be found. It requires men of the first abilities, both moral and literary, for this important office. Under the guidance of such mas- ters as the ancients had, or many countries, as France, Eng- land, Germany, and Italy, we should not be without orators, poetsj philosephers and statesmen. In ancient times, teach- ers were equally attentive in preparing youth for public ac- tion, as for arms and eloquence. " Homer tells us, that Pe- leus sent Phenix along with his son Achilles, to the Trojan war, to be his tutor both in speaking and acting. Plato taught Dion of Syracuse, the ingenious arts, and likewise, roused him in defence of his country. Aristotle did not only spur his royal pupil to glory and renown, but also guided his career, and taught him to speak and to act. So did Ly- sis, Epaminondas, the greatest man in Greece. Isocrates instructed the warlike and learned Timotheus, son to the brave Conon. And Xenophon formed, both by his precepts and example, Agesilaus, a prince illustrious for every accom- plishment and virtue. Pericles, who excelled both in elo- quence and action, in so much, that persuasion was said io PREFACE. xi dwell upon his lips, and who governed Athens 40 years, was trained up under Anaxagoras, a man of universal learning. I might offer more instances of the same kind, were it ne- cessary. I shall only add, that even those who Were of the highest order of Priests, were not only consulted as oracles in matters of religion, but were of admirable use to the youth by their advice and instructions in civil affairs, and shone both in the Senate and Forum, Witness, Publius Crassus, I, Coruncanus, Scsevola, and many others. If therefore, such were the tutors, no wonder the scholars became so eminent in their several capacities and professions. Were our mod- ern tutors better qualified than they are, we might expect to see a genuine and useful sort of learning more universally taught, and our youth formed for an active life, as well as one that is purely designed to be contemplative" The writer earnestly requests that the public will not con- sider the sentiments contained in the volume, as derogatory to the American character. Far be it from me to injure her reputation \ I am too much of ( an American. If I could not speak meritoriously of her, I would not speak at all. I would not with the one party praise America if she was undeserving of it ; nor with the other endeavour to degrade her in the eyes of other nations. For I think it an incumbent duty on every man, that in whatever situation his country may be pla- ced, he should act with prudence. My reasons are many for what I have said, but the preface will not allow room to ex- patiate as much upon them as I would wish. — I am no party man, but a zealous advocate for all such measures as may tend to enhance the glory of America, which she has obtain- ed both by arms and literature. As to Statesmen, Generals, Xaval Commanders, &c. we can boast of a Washington, a Hamilton, a Franklin, a Laurens, a Lawrence, a Burrows, a Perry, a McDonough, a Bainbridge, a Hull, a Pike, a Brown, a Scott, a Ripley, a MacComb, a Jackson, with many others. As to scholars, we cannot indeed vaunt a superiourity over Europe at present. But though Europe surpasses us in her cat- alogue of learned men, I confidently assert, that there is in exis- tence no nation which has made so rapid a progress in the arts and sciences as America, since she has become an independent Xii PREFACE. nation. As to learned and profound men, we have an Ames, a Hamilton, a Rittenhouse, a Count Rumford, a Barlow, a Dwight, a Trumbull, a Dennie, a Brown, a Jefferson, &c. In the art of painting, America stands pre-eminent. She has a West, a Vandelyne, a Leslie, a Morse, whose glory, it shall be the duty of future historians to record. After these observations, I hope that I shall not be charged with having written any thing derogatory to the American character. I repeat it, that I think our country is a land whose inhabitants possess as great and versatile genius, as Britain, France, or Germany ; it only needs that something be done, to arouse into action the powers of their minds, to produce Statesmen, philosophers, orators and poets of the greatest excellence. After having pointed out, in some degree, the want of a proper plan of instruction, &c. the public will naturally ex- pect a better from my pen. I shall (if nothing happen) at some future period, lay before them a plan of Classical incul- cation, together with an English cour&e, which has been too much neglected by all writers on the subject of education. I would observe, that in the course of the volume, there will be found quotations from the most celebrated authors, both of ancient and modern times, to substantiate what I have said, to whom I have made ample acknowledgments. If I have not, it has not been intentionally done. The sentiments in this work may appear local, yet they are equally applicable to the generality of seminaries in the United States. I hope all may profit by the volume, into whose hands it may fall. Thus having made several observations which did not oc- cur to me when writing the following pages, and acquainted the reader, in some measure, with the intention and nature of the work, I submit it to the public, under a full conviction, that they will render perfect justice to the book and its author; at the same time hoping that they will pass, without censure, any repetition of ideas, which are almost necessarily attendant in writing upon subjects closely connected, and suggesting a similar train of thought. INTRODUCTION. vwvv*vwwvwv Impressed with the duty which individually and collectively we owe to the rising generation, I have ventured to lay before the public a few strictures on the modes of instruction generally practised in our seminaries, by those engaged to superintend our off- spring's education, and the fatal consequences which will ensue, if the public still persist in patronizing un- worthy men, and stand indifferent at the rapid deca- dence of youthful morals. Wherever a turn to cal- umny and vice exists, a subversion of the moral affec- tions follows, and intellectual disease soon takes place, diffusing its baneful effects into -every thing sound and noble. Unprincipled preceptors are to be rank- ed among the greatest curses ; conscientious ones amongst the greatest blessings to society. To the latter we must, in a great measure, look for a reform in our mode of conducting education. If mildness and veracity prevail in the conduct of instructors, the consequences will be happy and indelible upon the minds of our children ; and the man who endeavours to destroy these qualities, by weakening the reverence due to them, defeats at once the end of moral edu- cation, and may be justly driven from that society, whose very existence he has endeavoured to destroy, by poisoning the fountains by which it is nourished and supported. XIV INTRODUCTION. In pointing out the folly, flattery, and viqps of. ma- ny of those engaged in the honourable professibftjof instructing youth, of exposing those who frequently ' and intentionally ruin the morals of the young (the effects of which lead to irreligion, dissipation and mis" ery) I deem it expedient, to shield myself from the^; imbittered shafts of calumniators, to declare, that I am not instigated by motives ol sr>Jeen or personal resent- ment.* These essays were^vrkten,iuponj?io Mi ^^te motive ; but solely on account of the glaring deceptions practised by the generality of instructors, and of par en- tal neglect to sound and ivholesonie inculcation. If I had been excited by any ignoble principle to. the wri- ting of these pages, I would have doomed them to the -flames, and let base men uninterrupted prey upon the vitals of the public. The liberty of the press is the peculiar boast and prerogative of the American people. " An honest man will therefore be peculiarly careful not to abuse this most constitutional organ of public opinion." He will not employ it as a vehicle of slander, merely to gratify the malevolence of his own disposition, or to please a few dissolute individuals, nor will he asperse the character of any person, because he can discharge his deadly arrows in secret pride and malice, without the fear of being arraigned before the tribunal of his country. But still, if in the performance of those who have undertaken to discharge any important duties, * I would wish the reader to understand, that I do not con- demn all our teachers. Many of them are men of excellent abilities, and their conduct such as justly emitles them to the esteem and regard of the public. But of this, see move in the notes interspersed throughout the work. INTRODUCTION. any person perceive abuses or defects, which, if per- mitted to proceed Junnoticfed, woukUbe/preductive of the most de^eleii^^-coHS'esiiiences^+he, .as w^eitejl e v- ery other worthy>.nd ; .Kones't menige%.ofi societjp?is in ;duty bound tc%put for ( tn *a boia^Hfafray^and stop; the growing ev^r^ L i,&&} .: * ■ ' v,f^^^^s< Situation of our scholastic ^Irurs, there arises an indispensable necessity of rectifying those errours, which are so prevalent in our youthful seminaries. I .have, therefoife, been stipulated to make such obser- ^atiojisas^jde^ some measure, con- ceive, towards^th|||e^feling of so salutary a purpose. My*-'eSbrt ; s > may^b'e*fe*eble ; but they are well meant. I am aware, that some of my remarks may at first view appear too severe ; but they are not more so than the causes, which gave rise to them, justly merit. -They are, indeed, designed to be severe, and if this be their only fault, I am perfectly willing to undergo the fiery ordeal of public criticism. To satirize bad teachers, silly parents and guardians, or malicious apostates, I consider in the highest degree worthy of commendation. It may, indeed, be alledged by some, that it is " incompatible if not with the profession, yet certainly with the practice of Christianity." " I am sure, if that be true, the praise of wit, learning, or talents, is nothing worth. If private malignity or per- sonal pique be the motive, it is essentially contrary to the precepts and practice of this blessed religion, and cannot be defended for a moment. But if satire be an instrument, and a powerful one too, to maintain and enforce public order, morality, religion, literature, and good manners, in those cases in which the pulpit and X\i INTRODUCTION. the courts of law can seldom interfere, and rarely with effect ; the community may authorize and' approve of it. <•'• The authorized instruments of lawful warfare are lawful." I am perfectly sensible of the numerous disadvanta- ges under which I labour, in combating the received opinions in predilection of men, who have elevated themselves by low and mean artifice, to the noble, but slighted occupation of teaching. I cannot speak of them without censuring them. I shall be assailed by ignorance and envy on the one hand, and interested views on the other. I shall be carped at by teachers, particularly by those who are desirous of the emolument arising from the profession. The warm approbation of their patrons will be an almost insuperable bar- rier to the execution of any person's intention, how- ever laudable or praise-worthy, and cannot fail of ex- citing a zealous resentment against the man whom they suppose the innovator, and who dares to expose them to merited scorn and contempt. Many of those preceptorial parasites who are en- joying all the sensual pleasures of life, unadorned by those elevated virtues, which should characterise the fraternity, and which are essentially requisite for those, who arrogate to themselves the important province of rearing immortal souls, for " scenes of never-fading bliss," have exalted themselves to that eminence, by uttering the most audacious calumnies under the ap- pearance oi" the greatest sincerity. They have found by frequent repetitions of these monstrous enormities, which demand public chastisement, that they could procure the testimonials of great approbation, from INTRODUCTION, XVll many of those, who are incapable of discerning their quackery, their ignorance, and their knavery. The ignorant and simple (for such alone can be imposed upon) have lent their voluntary eulogies to those pet- ty declaimers, and thus prejudices have been formed against the more honourable and respegtable class of instructors, which will require great ef- forts, before they can be lessened or eradicated. That a good education is the source of all virtue, is an unquestionable fact, and it behooves every faithful professor of religion, and every friend to lite- rature, to crush, if possible, tutorial depravity, and whimsical modes of instruction, and to establish, in their stead, such as may be most likely to produce something valuable, and which may recompense them for their great care and unwearied diligence. Let them inquire into the characters of those men who are desirous of becoming instructors of youth, and examine, whether they be free from the errours and prejudices naturally arising from an uncultivated mind. Nor is this all. Merely their being skilled in the Latin, Greek, or French languages, and their posses- sing a general knowledge of the arts and sciences, should not persuade persons to entrust their chil- dren to them. They should have, in addition to this theoretical lumber, something more to recommend them ; they should be virtuous, prudent, mild, and scrupulous ; they should themselves set the best ex- amples, and endeavour, by every means in their power, to induce their pupils to follow them. In a word, let the votaries of morality and religion establish their schools on such a foundation, that while, on the one B a. XV111 INTRODUCTION. hand, the usual and most necessary branches of edu- cation are carefully and Skilfully taught, on the other, religion should be instilled into the juvenile mind, with all that ardour and assiduity, which the extreme im- portance of the subject requires, viz. the temporal and eternal happiness of those committed to their care. This would be a system which, when brought into op- eration, could not be destroyed or even affected, by the slander or glaring quackery, so frequently exhibit- ed to the public, through the medium of newspapers and circulars, by immoral and roving teachers. The effects of low and illiterate preceptors are most severely felt in this city. The minds of their pupils left unexercised, are open to all the vices prevalent among the most worthless part of the community. The children have nothing to do, <; but to run in the street" upon the dismission of school. In the morn- ing they return, to louftge out their time in indolence and ignorance. Hence is the contempt in which our schools are held. Children make no improvement. The fault indeed lies partly on the child's side, but more on the parents', who are so thoughtless as to commit their children to the care of illiterate and dar- ing impostors. How can it then be expected, that the learned part of the community should approbate our common seminaries, when it is no longer an honour to be at the head of a school, but a little profit ? That such miserable wretches are poorly recompen- sed, ought, by no means, to excite astonishment. The fact is, that they do not even deserve their dayly bread. — Men are seldom found possessed of all the requisites necessary for conducting an academy who • INTRODUCTION. XIX - will descend to the business of teaching, unless com- pelled by necessity ; and this may be assigned as the reason, why so few of our citizens rise to eminence in the republic of letters, or in the management of our public affairs. That this is now the case, admits of no doubt ; the world has already complained of our remissness in scholastic affaire. It is indeed true, that many of our countrymen have reached the highest pinnacle of literary fame. This, however, was not owing to any knowledge which they obtain- ed in our common schools, but under the blessing of Divine Providence, to their own incessant indus- try and application, wholly independent of local ad- vantages. It is to the wretched state of our places of learning, that the practice of late years, of sending our youth to other countries for their education, is to be attributed.* — There is a national evil ensuing from this, viz. that it tends to alienate the affections of youth from their native country, and rivet them to that wherein they have been educated. This has been too long the case, and instead of endeavouring to remove the defects and prejudices, which force our offspring to distant shores for illuminating their minds, we still seem to be adding a greater spur. Why do we not endeavour to equal or surpass foreign seminaries of learning, to distinguish our literary institutions as the nurseries of tiberty, literature and religion, and instead * I am, however, extremely well pleased to notice, that for a few years past, New- York can boast of better Classical and English schools, than any other city in the United States, and that the practice of sendiag our youth to England, France, &c. is growing into disrepute. — May it continue, till no foreign country can claim the honour of educating" Americans, XK INTRODUCTION, of intrusting our children to the?n, let them be obliged to send theirs to us ? But as we have been crawling along in one old beaten path for many years, it ap- pears almost impossible to extricate ourselves from this labyrinth of perplexity and endless errour. When I see the scholastic institutions of other coun- tries flourishing in full vigour, I frequently propose the question to myself, what can be the cause of the low state of American institutions ? The intellectual pow- ers of Europeans are not superiour to ours ; their cli- mate is no better ; their food is not more nourishing. I ask it, and at the same time, behold our places of learn- ing sinking into insignificance, the cause is obvious. It arises, in a great measure, from the inadequate in- struction in our schools, and from fiarents forcing their children into the way of making their fortunes. This is too much the case with the inhabitants of America, and as many of these money-makers are ignorant themselves, they cannot consequently see the invnluable use and delights of learning, and would, if possible, envelope others in this profundity of mental darkness. Jf, however, youth should, by the skill and art of the teacher, once imbibe the desire of knowl- edge, and feel a thirst for literary fame, the folly of parents would soon stand conspicuous ; the sparks of ambition kindled at school, would soon break out into a general conflagration, which nothing could resist. Emulation, the incentive to great exertions, would become predominant. A virtuous ambition being- kindled among the Greeks, they carried every thing to the greatest perfection. The trophies of Miltiades disturbed the nightly slumbers of Themistocles, and' INTROBUCTIOK. XXI the eulogies bestowed upon Herodotus at the Olym- pic Games, stimulated Thueydides to compose his immortal work. If this emulation had not been ex- cited, Greece nor Rome could not have boasted of the many illustrious characters and splendid achievements, which are recorded on the page of history. The fire and enthusiasm of genius are not confined to any individual nation ; but are to be found, more or less, in every quarter ©f the world. It seems, indeed, to slumber in the frozen regions of Iceland and Greenland, and to be bound by the chains of gothic barbarity and superstition, among those nations once famous for the song of the Muse, the soundness of philosophy, and military ardour and courage. Turkey and Africa bear record of these as- sertions, and their names are almost blotted out from the historic page. Their ambition being extinguished, they are incapable of any illustrious exploit, and are only mentioned with scorn and contempt, as being the degenerate descendants of men more learned and civ- ilized than any of the Eastern hemisphere. Thus it happens to all nations until emulation is excited among them ; that they appear destitute of any great eleva* tion of mind ; and upon its decay, the mind languish-- ing for a spur to its exertions, sinks into inactivity and moulders into insignificancy. Various causes, indeed, may tend to its decadence. Commerce pouring in her luxuries from abroad, enervates and effeminates the in- tellectual powers, and hastens the extinction of that vhir tuous ambition which tends to the public good. Thus it was with Rome. Enlightened and brave as her in- habitants were, great and profound as were her philos- XX11 INTRODUCTION. ©phers and statesmen, they could not save her from falling a sacrifice to the luxury, which followed upon the taking of Carthage. From this period, the fate of Rome was fixed ; she fell, and the honours acquired before this period remain only to show the greatness of her past glory. Thus we see, that unless some re- wards be held forth, worthy of attainment, and an em- ulation be kindled, a nation, however rich or learned, will fall a sacrifice to the restless spirit of her. r citizens. Nursed in the cradle of sloth and idleness, and pam- pered by luxury, a way is opened for more manly na- tions to usurp the liberties of their country, and con- vert them from the slaves of sensual gratifications, into the slaves of oppression and despotism. " To the malign and flimsy criticisms of hireling scribblers, tea-table talkers, grog-shop philosophers, or depraved instructors, I have nothing to say ; but, that they will probably be as worthy of my notice, as the places or the characters which gave them birth. If they will talk, let them. Perhaps they cannot con- verse upon any thing of more value to themselves, and to the community, than upon the right education of youth. I have nothing to advance in defence of my essays, but that I believe the sentiments to be correct. With them I have lived : with them I think it probable I shall die. A complete reformation in many of our teachers' characters who have abilities, and a total re- jection of those who want either, will be the only means of effecting a change in my mind. Secret and causeless enemies, I can neither oppose Bor convict ; but must leave them to that punishment wkich the cankering- worm of a guilty conscience nev- INTRODUCTION. XX1H. er. fails to inflict, a wbund-fwhich time cannot assuage, which art cannot cicatrize. Veritas odium pant. Truth produces hatred. It may be deemed necessary that I should make an apology for- my frequent use of classical quotations. The placing of two or three Latin or Greek mottoes to some of them, may appear pedantic and ostenta- tious, while they may be thought unnecessary. I can- not advance much for their necessity ; but have only to remark, that the best writers of the English lan- guage, Johnson, Addison, Steel, Pope, Knox, and ma- ny others, abound with classical quotations. I will, however, add a few more words from Mr. Matthias, the reputed author of the " Pursuits of literature,"— " I would say a few words (says he) on another part of my work. I have been under the necessity, as at least I thought, of appealing for illustration to writers of all ages and various languages. There is an appearance of ostentation in it, to which I must submit. I am certainly of opinion with Casaubon, that it cannot be supposed, " facere aliquid ad veram pietatem sen doc- trinam Grasca potius quam alia lingua loqui."* Cer- tainly not. But to enforce and to illustrate any posi- tion, the language of the poets, and the dignity and spirit of ancient eloquence and history, in the ori- ginal words, are of no mean assistance. But I have generally given in English, the substance of the allu- * (It cannot be supposed) that speaking or writing- in the Greek Language* in preference to any other, can have any particular efficacy in promoting the interests of true piety or learning-. Casaub. Exercit. 16, ad Annul. Eetl Barsnii. XXI? INTRODUCTION. sions contained in the learned languages, which arc brought forward " The essay addressed to Mentius, &c. is in appear- ance severe. It never would have been written, had there not been ample cause. Retaliation is sometimes laudable, as appears from the writings of that celebra- ted philosopher and Christian, Dr. Witherspoon. " I do not deny (says he) that there are sometimes good reasons for making use of satire and ridicule, in con- troversies of the political kind, and sometimes it is necessary in self defence. If any writer in behalf of a party attempts to expose his adversaries to public scorn, he ought not to be surprised, if the measure he metes to others is measured out to him again, What is unlawful in the aggressor, becomes justifiable in the defender," I shall not, therefore, under such sanction as his, consider myself, in the least, reprehensible in retorting the abusive language with which myself and ©thers have been assailed ; but on the contrary deem ail my efforts laudable, in supporting my own charac- ter, and that of those whom he has so injuriously as- sailed : for I hold this to be a doctrine, in which I shall be joined by all good men, that character is, of all things, an article worthy of protection. Having made such observations in the Introduction as I thought proper, I submit my labours to the public. If they are worthy of patronage, I am contented ; if not, let them perish amongst other volumes, far supe- rlour to this in matter and in stvle. THE REFORMER. WWWWXiVWVW CHAPTER I. REMARKS ON EDUCATION, PARENTS, INSTRUC- TORS, &c* No?— ~ cm K'MgiQ ugicrro?. " This is the season for the right understanding of the subject which is before us." Pind. Olymp. O. 13. Xlwyii koli p/f<* KAXoxxyxd-ixs, To vc/uif/.* Tv^iiy 7r&ifo)&$ t — " A good education is the source and foundation of all virtue." Plutarch. " If the business of education were more thoroughly and more generally understood, it would be less necessary for in- dividuals, when they arrive at maturity, to form plans of im- provement for themselves." Stuart's Philosophy of the Mind, To ascertain the truth and solidity of a received maxim, or mathematical proposition, it is necessary that we descend to the causes and circumstances which led to the conclusion, and the avidity with which men have received and propagated it as or- * This essay being much longer than any of the others, I have deemed it proper to divide it into different chapters ; the connection between each chapter being 1 properly pre- served. c 26 BEFORMER. thodox. If systems and conclusions had been received and not examined, the world to this day had not been illuminated with correct knowledge ; but that mentaj darkness which characterized ages, would have con- tinued to produce the cruelties of superstition, and the wild conceits of fanaticism. Had not Copernicus re-ex- amined the Pythagorean theory of the universe, what would have been the present state of astronomy ? Had not Newton, Bacon and other successors, explored the depths of philosophy and the arcana of nature", antf thoroughly investigated the discoveries of Archimedes and Euclid, they could not have proceeded with so much certainty in those sciences which have exalted their names to the highest eminence. Rut by minutely ex- amining every thing for themselves, they have been able to solve difficulties which before their times were deemed insurmountable, to shew to what excellence, greatness and correctness the human mind may soar, when it investigates for itself on the principles of sound reason and candour, rejecting the inconsistent hypothe- ses of those who have involved literature and science in endless perplexity and errour. But those luminaries in religion and sound philosophy soon excited a host of inveterate enemies against them ; and the history of succeeding ages sufficiently shews, that, when a man has, by the unbiassed use of his reason, demonstrated to his own satisfaction the existence of some inveterate errour in any particular science, art or profession, and deems it his duty to communicate his proposed reme- dy or improvement to the world, he may rest assured, that he will forthwith be assailed on all sides by the clamours of men, who, instigated by interest or some '.REFORMER. 27 other base motive, will study by every means in their power, to thwart him in his laudable designs, and who will use their utmost efforts to throw the intended re- former and his scheme of reformation into contempt and ridicule. A man, however, who is actuated by a sincere desire to promote the public good, will not be 'deterred from the prosecution of his project by such *» bugbears" He will modestly, but yet firmly^ lay his opinion before his fellow citizens, together with the reasons which induced him to adopt them, and al- low the public to judge for themselves. From these few preliminary observations, we see that to proper and candid examinations, expressed in sentiments which eairy along with them the clearest conviction of certain projectors or reformers having deserved applause or censure ; it may justly be said to have led us to the solid information of those subjects, which, previous to strict and candid criticism and ex- amination, rested in obscurity. Old and absurd sys- tems by their means have been eradicated, new and approved ones have been substituted, which, in despite of ridicule and asperity, attract the encomium and ad- miration of the world. Fully convinced of the obstacles which obstruct the intentions of any writer however laudable, provided re- formation be his object, I enter upon the present ob- servations with fear and trembling. Individual exer- tion in education can do little, and though it fail of ac- complishing its object, it may be a stimulus to others to expose defects, which, if continued, will be pro- ductive of innumerable errours both in science and re- ligion. Even failure in theoretical matters frequent!/ 28 REFORMER. meets the reward of good intention ; but in practical eulogium not short of adoration is bestowed upon him, who has been happy enough to bring those things into practice, which had formerly appeared plausible in theory ; but which, from a combination of difficulties, it had been thought, would be for ever impossible to put into execution. The first attempt seldom proves successful, but some, by perseverance and by repeated trials, have finally executed what their predecessors left unfinished. Thus, Dryden and Milton improved upon antecedent poets, and Goldsmith and Pope have polished our language with respect to poetical num- bers to such a degree, as to supersede even the idea of adding beauty to the metrical song of the muse — Assisted by the labours of those who have gone before them, Edge worth, Moore, Knox, Milton and Rosseau have composed the most valuable and splendid trea- tises that have adorned any language since the days of Quintillian and Cicero. With their success in view, and the clamour and opposition raised against Dr. Knox and his commendable reformation in classical literature, I attempt to lay before the public observations on education, and parents, and upon those preceptors, who, regardless of the highly responsible trust reposed in them, have violated the most essential duties of so- cial life, and abused the confidence with which the community have thought proper to entrust them. Whoever have been duly impressed w£th the va- rious duties which we owe individually and collective- ly to our country, have long been desirous not only of seeing a reform in the modes of education practised by many of our preceptors, but likewise a more par- REFORMER. 2f ticular one in the characters of those who are chosen the guardians of this great and, if properly conducted, truly invaluable national blessing. In offering this last observation, I mean not to detract from the learning, morality and religion of several of our instructors. — But it reflects much inattention, if not dishonour, upon the public, that they have patronized men* who as Cicero observes, cum maxime fallunt^ dant ofieram ut viri boni videantur. Until we examine the moral as well as the literary character of those, who superin- tend our seminaries, persons of the most slender pre- tensions to probity and talents will impose their wick- edness and folly upon us, as the unerring dictates of Christianity and wisdom. When it is universally allowed, that youth cannot well be expected to improve in useful knowledge, ex- cept under the guidance of men of learning and reli- gion, it is certain that no radical reform can be ex- pected to take place in our system of education, till teachers can be found in whom both of these are united. But when gentlemen possessed of these, qual- ifications shall be at the head of our juvenile semina- ries, what a happy change will then take place ! Such preceptors, like the real ministers of Christ, will take delight in rearing the infant plant, expanding the bud of genius, and inculcating upon the pliant mind of the youth committed to their care, the objects of their du- ty, the deity, their fellow-creatures and themselves. Their duty done, they seek no worldly store, Their conscience pays them, and they ask no more.. C 3 30 REFORMER. Thrice happy they, o'er whom they thus preside, Reclaim from errour, and to virtue guide ; Who taug-ht by them, their industry employ, And in the public good their own enjoy. Vaniere, 14th book of his Prini^jit^not; eulogy. I shall deliver my thoughts in a style sulte«^&the occasion, clothed in all the pomp of langua§e,^£3. elegance of meta- phorical allusions, which my imagination can furnish ; intermingling some of the beauties of poetry, with a little philosophy and considerable Latin (for I am very partial to the classics) but no Greek. This is my opinion of fine writing, though many dissent from the latter part, that is, of inserting Latin and philosophy in essays, two things, which are condemned by those who do not understand them* Damnant, quod not intelligunt. They condemn that which they do not understand. But I shall not be directed by the ignorant ; I ask not their voice in my councils. The approbation of the wise is sufficient authority for me, and they say as I do, stick your Latin and all you know in every part of your writings; it is of no use except for show. What is the value of a man's knowledge, unless others know that he is learned ? As I have pledged my word, to adhere most scru- pulously to truth, I deem it expedient to state a few remote circumstances in defence of my preceptorial reputation, as I am confident, that the lash of satire, will be pc.rseve«r.ingly applied by teachers privately, if ftEFORMER. 153 I! not publicly. It has often happened to the most con- | seientious instructors of youth, as well as to myself. ! It is a common practice among the lower orders, to j scandalize each other's characters and talents without provocation. I hope, however, that I am free from an | imputation of this kind. As it is not my intention, at I present, to say any thing which can wound their feel- | ings, I shall proceed to the object in View without far- f ther comment, and leave the public to judge of my i intentions. " Veritas odium parit." Truth occasions hatred. In pursuance of what I first observed, the commu- nity must know, that America is comparatively a new settled country, and led in benevolence to mankind, I determined to cross the bleak Atlantic, leaving my native home, my friends, my wife and children. I had however, ascertained to a certainty, that this part of the habitable globe was. yet too young to furnish in- structors competent to expand the bud of genius,* to that degree, of which it is susceptible, by proper meth- ods and well regulated schools. On my arrival I visited several cities, which cer- tainly have arisen to great eminence since the first dawn of civilization, and determined to fix my resi- dence in New-York, upon which the citizens of other places " might look and weep," for I had fixed an unalterable resolution to revolutionize all the schools, I immediately discovered the incapacity of my frater- nity, and keeping in mind an extract from Stewart's Philosophy of the Mind, which says, " if the business of education were more thoroughly and more general- 154 BEF0RMER. \y understood, it would be less necessary for individu- als, when they arrive at maturity, to form plans of improvement for themselves," I forthwith went to work ; but soon perceived that there was much to be clone, and wrote to the place of my nativity for a man of ex- traordinary abilities to come out and assist me in the arduous task of " teaching the young idea how to shoot." I failed in my project. He wrote that it would be a Herculean task, and therefore declined to accept my offer. Although I felt mortified by his de- nial, yet I determined to " pluck up courage" and not shrink from the tremendous duty before me, and ac- cordingly commenced a new era in American liter- ature. The first step taken, was to introduce the man- ners and methods practised by our Grub- Street school- masters. I obtained a room situated in a very pleasant and commodious part of the city ; then proceeded to outdo the present preceptors, as many supposed my rivals. Pshaw ! thought I, these men have no preten- sions to morality, erudition, wit or decency. They pretend to teach what they know little or nothing about. They are to be sure, men of very uncommon talents, but I am certain that they have very little regard for the public welfare ; their whole object being to ob- tain money. Convinced of the truth of these reflec- tions, I instantly circulated my prospectus, informing the public of the various branches which I proposed to teach, and the methods which I should pursue in my mode of tuition. First, I was to teach spelling, on which I made some elegant and profound comments, showing its inestimable use before the scholar proceeds to the higher branches of literature. But by the bye, HEFORMER. j.55 as I am bound to speak the truth, especially of what I ONCE WAS, I cannot omit one or two circumstan- ces which happened, and very bad ones they were : viz. : in my observations on the usefulness of correct spelling, I spelled more than half of the words wrong. But this early defect in my education I have since remedied ; for I have read Webster's Spelling-Book through so often, that I have learned it all by heart. — > I next proceeded to point out the graces of writing, and spoke of it in the highest terms of praise ; because, I know, that many persons prefer a a good hand -writing, to a good sound head, or in other words, many parents would rather that their children should understand the penman's flourishes, than possess a good fund of solid information. Of my skill in this useful art, my handbills bear record. Here, however, I was doubly mortified, for I spelled incorrectly again, and had several pieces returned with samples of various hand writings, asking whether I, in reality, thought that I could surpass them. Confident of my passing wonderful talents in this, as w r ell as in other branches of education, I challenged my competitors to a trial of skill ; but, to my extreme disappointment, found them all far superior to me in this kind of manual operation. I began, by this time, to see that the American peo- ple had a little sense, and that our English voyagers and travellers had told as many fictitious stories as are contained in the wonderful travels of Gulliver, Baron I^taunchausen, the Persian Legends, or in the Meta- morphoses of Ovid, who may justly be called the fa- ther of lies. I requested my antagonists to keep se- cret all which they had heard and seen, and this, they ? 156 REFORMER. with flattering promises, said that they would. But my intended friends deceived me, in the manner which is always to be expected from knaves, and proved my most bitter enemies. They propagated my disgrace far and wide, and I was henceforth pestered to death with thousands of scraps of writings which I was confi- dent that I could surpass, although outstripped by a few of their best penmen. But, courteous reader, be not surprised ; for I have amended this glaring over- sight of my younger days by committing to memory, the principles of every writing master from the Dis- trict of Maine to Georgia ; together with a number of the directions on the same subject, which have been composed by some of my countrymen, and I am now confident, that no one can equal me in this city. My grammatical examination was, indeed, illy performed, be- cause I had always thought that the science of grammar would be of no use to myself, and therefore of none to others. I missed the most simple question. How many parts of speech are there ? But on this subject, I wish to say, nor think no more, as I have sustained too much mortification on the subject already. Next came my comments on the worth on Geography. Here again I was thrown into confusion, turned pale, blue, and lastly red ; but as a Pagan philosopher says, Dum erubuit^salva res est j " while he blushes all is safe." And I always consoled myself with the above saying, whenever I was in the least disconcerted in my schemes. I had a very good knack of blushing; but I really know not, by which muscle it was, that I used to perform this ru- bied operation of the face. If I failed in any thing, like Cardinr.l Dc Retz, I always persuaded myself, that REFORMER* 157 In reality I had not. But, gentle reader, be not sur- prised at all this, it is not half of my misfortunes. $ have completely purged my mind of geographical and grammatical ignorance, as I have learned all Morse's, Guthrie's, Goldsmith's, and Cumming's Geographies by rote, as also, all Ash's, Webster's, Loivth^s^, Murray's, Jaudon's, and Comely' s English Grammars, and am al- most certain that I can analyze the following simple sentence, " I love wine." It would take a number of pages to recapitulate the whole list of my various blunders and misreckonings, I shall therefore, only attempt a. brief sketch of them. Next came on my examination on Arithmetic, pure and mixed mathematics, and here I miscalculated in almost every instance and was most shamefully ex- posed. To obviate this evil, I learned all Euclid by heart, and can therefore do any proposition in it. In my Latin I translated in a most shocking manner, and was laughed at by all who were present. Finally hav- ing gone my round, like a cart horse, by mismanage- ment, I was obliged to bring up play-acting as a nov- elty. In this too I failed, and my creditors becoming impatient, I was put in jail for debt. I contrived, how- ever, after some time, to get out, began the world anew, issued proposals for opening a new school, and sent round my circulars. I will pledge my honour to the public, that the plan which I shall pursue in f -/;ure, will be productive of far greater benefit 10 the rising generation, than any heretofore practised. It will be worth more than any other method, for this one reason, viz. : that it makes all wise who come within its influence . I first took O 158 REFORMER. the hint from the system recommended, and practised -with so much success, by Timothy Quack, Esq. who taught school in Middle Pedagogue-Street, No. 96.-— It is one of the best plans which I ever saw. My read- ers must not let the name of the writer militate against his doctrine. The following is his advertisement, after which I will give mine. EDUCATION. Seeing that almost every column of the news-papers in this city, is teeming with notices of schools and se- lect academies, holding forth the great improvements made, or about to be made, in the art of education, I take the liberty of squeezing into the vehicle of pub- lic information, the wonderful and astonishing discove- ry which I have most fortunately made. I have learn- ed, from long experience, that a perfect knowledge of all the Arts and Sciences may be communicated to youth in one half of the time, which is usually devoted to that purpose. My plan of instruction is perfectly simple, attended with no labour or pains to the learn- er, and yet it is more efficacious than any other what- ever, being performed with the greatest facility and correctness imaginable. Here it is. I have provided, at no inconsiderable expence, a box in magnitude suf- ficient to contain the Encyclopedia Britanica, or even the New-York City Library. The apartments of this are so arranged, and the books so adjusted, as to admit a free circulation among them. This is done in order that the essence or spirit of the various scientific works may impregnate the air, and be conveyed into the mind REFORMER. ] 59 of the learner, in the following manner. The pupil has only to put his ear to a tube, which is let into the box already described, through which he is to receive a gentle puff from my mouth, which will at once blow a perfect knowledge of literature and science into his understanding. The terms for each puff are % 60. Ail this apparatus I have been at the expence of pur- chasing. To perfect the learner, I have only to take him into my " Labratory" and — puff. My advertisement is below, and the reasons for my advertising. TO PARENTS AND TEACHERS. Two motives induce me once more to make known my abilities. The one is to endeavour to bring into deserved notice my new publication, Squab Slender- head's Spelling-Book, and the other (and a noble one it certainly is) to inform those, who know the value of the inculcation of sound and wholesome knowledge, where they may be served to the utmost of their rea- sonable wishes, viz. : at Squab Slenderhead's School- house, No. 104 Soft-Street. My Spelling-Book is acknowledged by the best judges, to be the most finished compilation, that has ever appeared. I will venture, therefore, to recom- mend it to the public upon our combined judgments. It is English pronunciation complete, and I do not on- ly hope, but am certain, that American youth will derive more solid information from it, than from any before the public. As to my school, I have not much to say. Timothy Quack's plan will always be suffi- cient to reward its patrons. I am master of every sci- 160 REFORMER. ence which / undertake to teach, and of this the pub- lic can bear the strongest testimony, after they shall have submitted their children to my infallible judg- ment and skill. SQUAB SLENDERHEAD, Esq. N. B....I have deviated from what I first said, viz. : that I was not to make use of self praise. But I must, in this respect, imitate the example of the famous Don Quixotte De La Mancha, Knight of the rueful counte- nance, or as he afterwards called himself, Knight of the Lions, that is, I cannot help eulogizing myself, when the whole world knows, that I so much de* serve it. REFORMER- 161 EXHIBITION OF A TRAGEDY BY SCHOLARS. I call no man an ape or ass, 'Tis his own conscience holds the glass. Gay's Fables O tempora ! O mores ! Cicero, O the times ! O the manners ! Dear Friend, The promise, which I made to you in my last letter, I have at length performed. I have attended the exhibition of that extraordinary man, who makes it his exclusive business to initiate and perfect all kinds of children in all the blandishments of the orator. My ears were assailed, every day, and I could not walk five steps in the street or house, without hearing of the great good which he was doing to the public. Though I have never made it a practice of visiting any place, where I should hear a Longinus or Hyfierides, pleading in the most animated strains, in the cause of his beloved country, or where the orator's weapons were handled with all the vigour of an inspired imagination ; yet, by the repeated solicitations of the advocates and friends of this more than mortal man^ I concluded to attend the first of his very celebrated performances, where I naturally expected to see all the scenes of our best dramatic writers, touched with the magic breath of a Garrick, a Kemble, a Cooke, or a Cooper. One evening, as I sat grieving (being a teacher of elocution myself, who, however, was unwilling to allow myself to be actuated by envy at his oratorical talents) O 2" 162 REFORMER. and ruminating on his unbounded fame, his extraordina- ry faculties, his knowledge of human nature, and above all, his supernatural power of supplying the defects of nature, I was startled by a sudden rap at the door. It was a friend of mine who came to let me know, that this passing wonderful instructor's [scholars were to perform Addison's celebrated tragedy of Cato. I dres- sed myself in my best habit, as soon as possible, and hastened to the fatal spot, from which I arose with little edification or delight, and really hope " I ne'er shall look upon its like again." You may rest assured, that from the reputation which he had, heretofore, sus- tained, it was not long before I reached the intended place.-— A stage was erected — people were flocking in — the actors were strutting across to show them- selves and their dress, and these were all which they did show. — The ladies and gentlemen were scramb- ling for scats, and the girls and boys were striving with each other, who should be foremost. I could plainly discover that Ovid had not penned this line in vain. " Light trifles please light minds."— The mu- sicians struck up " Yankee Doodle" I was astound- ed. 1 — ' O Lord !' said I, < this lets me into a most fatal tragedy to come.' — The applauding commenced. — Ail 1 could compare it to, was the celebrated concert of Tegg's cats. And at the time, when the curtain rose, such was the pother and uproar, that I began to think, that Jupiter and Nefitujie were contending, who should be the mightiest. Yes, " Such a noise arose As the shrouds make at sea, in a stiff tempest, \s loud, and to as many times. Hats, cloaks, REFORMER. 163 Doublets, I think flew up ; and had their faces Been loose, that day, they had been lost. Such joy, I never saw before. Great belly'd women, That had not half a week to go, like rams In the old time of war, would shake the press, And make 'em reel before 'em. No man living Could say, this is my wife there ; all were woven So strangely in one piece." Shakespeare. What ! said I to my friend ; for horrour had so over- come him, that he clung to me, in fright, like the babe to its mother's breast ; what does this rude commotion of wind and water mean ? Why, said he, they are venting their plaudits to the boys and their dress. Do they make no distinction, then ? replied I. — But— Stop ! — The jabbering begins. A half snapped Scotch- man sings out, " speak louder ;" out squeaks the little fellow ; hands rattle, spit flies. Why, exclaimed I, who was almost deprived of my hearing (my auricu- lar nerves being wounded by the shouts of applause) to my over anxious friend, what does all this mean, that such a foolish man should undertake to impose upon the people's understanding thus ? — Silence ! — • hear it out, and then comment on this glorious night's performance. — I could scarcely bridle my rage to see persons made dupes to such folly.— At length out popt another mannikin. I never heard so severe a crack ; it was among the girls ; but how they could contrive to make such a noise, is to me a mystery, as it was of such a kind as I had seldom heard before. This scene and the remainder of the play went on in the true tra- gic style, ranting and storming, crying and kissing ; 164 REFORMER, except the one in which Sempronius is killed. " Si- lence now commands, as though nature were at rest. But as we often see, against some storm, a silence in the heavens, the rack stand still, the bold winds speech- less, and the orb below as hush'd as death : anon the dreadful thunder doth rend the region : so after a short pause, their roused spirits set them new at work, and never did the, Cy clop's hammers falling on Mar's ar- mour, forged for proof eternal, cause half the noise," as did their hands, their feet, and slavering mouth's. — I was lost in this earthly judgment. Men were eulo- gizing the performance. I, even I myself, my friend, was so enraptured, that I called unknowingly (as I was afterwards told) upon the shade of Addison, to look down and give his decided approbation on this admira- ble performance ; upon the muse of Shakespeare, " to hold my heart, and to my sinews to grow not instant cold but bear me stiffly up." — Can I forget thee poor Sempronius, I mean poor player ? No ! " While mem- ory holds a seat in this distracted globe." Forget thee 1 No ! From the table of my memory, I'll wipe away all forms, all pressures past, and thy poor playing, all alone, " shall live within the book and volume of my brain, unmixed with baser matter: yes by heaven !" — But alas ! my friend, how quick is the transition from pleasure to pain. My eyes were attracted, as it were magnetically, by the hideous spectacle of an old wo- man, who had one or two stumps of decayed teeth, just peeping through her stale lips, the wreck of for- mer beauty, sighing and wringing her hands, and rolU ing the whites of her eyes. Madam, said I, what's the matter : Why do you wring your hands thus? " Ok REFORMER. 165 lah !" exclaimed the toothless old soul, " peace 5 « set you down and let me wring your heart ; for I shall, if it be made of penetrable stuff; if damned custom (she meant perhaps the custom of teaching children the principles of morality) have not brazed it so, that it is bulwark against sense." Oh ! cease mother of bards, hold your eloquent strains let my soul become calm. She would have proceeded ; but I stopped her falling, gentle accents. Why thought I, the towering genius of the immortal bard of Avon pervades all ranks, all sizes, all ages ; from the lisping infant up to the nau- seous dame of seventy, all seem to have taken a strong dose of his tragical spirit. The awful, august and tragic scene being over, the actors slain, and the audience having finished their magic spell of grief, the encomiums on the players were more profusely lavished than ever. Some were pleased and others were not, as all expected to be praised for their outdoing themselves. A great chat- tering was heard among the old women, among whom we generally find a great deal of garrulity, the privi- lege of years. " My boy" said one, " got a great sight of firaise ; did'nt you hear how they clapped and hurraed^ when he said such a part ?" u Yes, I guess they did." " Lah ! suz," exclaimed the other, to whom she addressed herself, " he did'nt pesarve it. My son and daughter beat 'em all. They got the most credit ; for did'nt you hear, how the people laughed and whistled ? when they hallowed so loud, and made such perty faces ; and kissed so handsome, and show* ed their white teeth, and waddled across the stage ?" * Yes," answered a third, " I think that there young 166 REFORMER. lady, that does'nt look so beautiful when she a'nt paint- ed and flounced off in so many silver-laced ruffles, ap- peared the handsomest, and done the best, when she polled the whites of her eyes out of sight, and grinned so well, at meeting the counsellor Sempronius." — " Mam," said the first dame, " you mus'nt insult my daughter's reputation." " Is it your datur, mam, I did'nt know, or I would not harm her." " Yes, mam, you would," said the first. " No, mam, I would'nt," said the second. " Yes you would mam, and I'll pros- '; ecute you as the law directs for slandering my datur's character." — From words they almost came to blows ; I expected every minute that the battering would com- mence. My surprise increased, and what added to it, was, that each appeared to have been so cannon- aded* by time's powerful battery, that their timbers .. would not stand another discharge of round shot. — What was to be done ? It was a pity for them " to .: black each other's eyes," which was the natural con- \ sequence after such a dispute (for it seemed as if they had learned to weep, to fight, and murder, and spout, from this and such other tragic scenes) and indeed this was the case ; for " To arms ! to arms ! the fierce Virago cries, And swift as lightning to the combat flies. All side in parties, and begin th' attack : Fans clap, silks rustle, and tough whalebones crack ; Heroes' and hetoines' shouts confus'dly rise, And bass and treble voices strike the skies. No common weapon in their hands are found, Like Gods they fight, nor dread a mortal wound. So when bold Homer makes the Gods engage, And heavenly breasts with human passions rage ; REFORMER. 167 5 Gainst Pallas, Mars ; Latona, Hermes arms : And all Olympus rings with loud alarms ; Jove's thunder roars, heaven trembles all around, Blue Neptune storms, the bellowing deeps resound : Earth shakes her nodding towers, the ground gives way, And the pale ghosts start at the flash of day." Pope. After a long and tedious fight, they were finally rec- onciled by the friendly interposition of some neighing steeds, who were accustomed to such " hair breadth escapes and imminent dangers." As novelty is one of the greatest sources of pleas- ure, I did not remain long disengaged. My attention was drawn to a fat bellyed man, who was lavishing his encomiums on the exhibition of puppets. He observed, it was the best thing of the kind he had ever seen. " Thinks I to myself," that may be the case, and still be bad enough. My eyes were almost riv- etted on this would be great man (for you must know that I am -very partial to such men) " whose reverend visage (asj.he Memoirs of Martlinus Scriblerus say) portrayed a profoundness of knowledge, on whom the beautiful varnish of time ; — or rather (let me call it) this precious aerugo, this venerable verdure of so many years," had spread that mantle, which ought to com- mand respect. On inquiry, I found it was the cele- brated Dr. Squab, whose fame alone the stars can bound, which can only die by the destruction of nature. His praises, together with those of the insignificant chap, with whom he was conversing, and the ideas of the boys' acting, struck me so forcibly, that I could | not help repeating Hamlet's famed speech to the play- •[68 REFORMER. ers. I shall quote it, to demonstrate the effects which they had upon me, and leave you, my friend, to judge whether I have hit upon a right quotation or not.— - « Oh, says he, there be players that I have seen play, and heard others praise, that highly, — not to speak it profanely, — that neither having the accent of Christ- ian, nor the gait of Christian, pagan nor man, have so strutted, and bellowed, that I thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated humanity so abominably." — All this oc- curred to me, and surely, I, who stand on a pinnacle of dust, compared to that on which the eminent Dr. Squab is elevated, could not, within the bounds of thought, have recollected the tenth part of any writings, so appropos to the evening's entertainments, had they not made a very deep impression on my mind. I can no more. Oh 1 Confucius I what a head he must have. But, my dear friend, this is not all. Some few days after, as I was reading the news-paper, I saw, to my astonishment, his advertisement, mentioning this dis- tinguished performance, the praises which he receiv- ed, and asserting that his new invented mode of in- struction had met with the warmest approbation of the public. He moreover stated, that as it was yet in its infancy, they might reasonably expect something val- uable in a short time, which would amply reward pa- rents for their kind patronage, and him for his very persevering attention to their offspring. — A circular with such a mixture of flattery and fiction may seduce a few, who are incapable of distinguishing between sense and nonsense, and who are always sure to draw wrong conclusions from right premises,— He further REFORMER. 169 informed the people of the city of New-York (for you must know it has been a great institution in its time, according to his story) that he intended to teach ev- ery branch of education, which, in reality, I well knew that he could not ; it being customary among quack teachers, as well as quack doctors, to advertise to do incredibles and mconceivables, merely with a view to deceive the community ; and he, in the same para- graph, expressed the liveliest sense of his gratitude (as I have observed) to those, whom he had made sufficiently credulous of his abilities, to attend to his spouting exhibitions. His advertisement was written in a style, from which I supposed that the dictionary had been searched from end to end, and that the fair- est fields of our best writers had been rifled of every flower, and of every important figure ; for they dance through this strange composition in all the confusion of an untutored genius, and the wildness of a disturbed imagination. In short, were you to peruse this marvel- lous advertisement, you would be satisfied that his pate was stored with the elaborate and profound sentiments of that supereminent dramatic writer, John Minshull, Esq. who precipitately embarked for his native coun- try, leaving only his name behind : and because learn- ing was not patronized in the American Republic, he sought fair Britain's soil, the land of patriots, of tal- ents, but now — the land of Bavius. Thus have we been deprived of one of the wonders of the world, by the lukewarmness which we have expressed towards a man, who, surely, bade fair to become one of our greatest ornaments, and whose genius led him whol- ly to the sublime. — And now farewell, O literature P 170 REFORMER. of America ! farewell thou champion of genius ! mayst thou, when the iron hand of death shall snatch thy spirit from thy un tempered body, be borne to the man- sions of eternal rest, and may the fair virgins of that country, in which thou mayst end thy days, chant thy own epicediums over thee, and strow thy grave with ever blooming laurels ; and may a literary thorn never spring from it (and alas ! they never will, for thou wilt remain untouched and unknown) to brand thy name, thou noblest patron of science, thou genius of dramat- ic poetry. I have been able, heretofore, to wield my pen in proportion to every literary display, which made its appearance ; but I must confess that the flights of which this man seems susceptible, exceeds my utmost abilities, and doubt not, that there are many more, who as well as I, will find themselves as unequal to the task of commenting on the theatrical performance of his pupils, as on the elegance of the diction of his marvellous advertisement. While sitting in my room, and wrapped in medita- tion on a certain evening, a few days after this ex- hibition was over, I was aroused by a knocking at the door. It proved to be my worthy friend, who had so earnestly requested me to attend the exhibi- tion, and who, along with me, had not only seen the representation, but also heard the strange reflections which had been made on the performers. I certainly thought to hear many encomiums passed upon the performance. But I was mistaken. " To my utter astonishment," exclaimed he, " I never was so much disappointed in my life. I never beheld so much ridiculous stuff, such mawkish imitations." He be- REFORMER. 171 gan pointing out the defects, and continued his philo- logical observations, till it drew towards the hour of retiring to the care of the God Morpheus. After his departure, I concluded that it would be mispending my time to expose preceptorial artifice, and to wound his patron's feelings. For these reasons, I determined to draw my essay to a conclusion. But, at that mo- ment,, ill-fated instant ! I happened to turn my eye to the paper, which contained his advertisement. — ■ My indignation was instantly roused, to think, that he should supplant me in the public favour, and injure my reputation as a teacher of elocution. I sat down and wept when I saw to my lasting mortification, his paper informer, signed by some of our most exalt- ed literary characters. Yes, my friend, such is the case, the writings of a pretty acute genius are passed over unnoticed ; he can get no recommendation. But great men, on the contrary, almost without having seen or read the productions of another great man, do not hesitate to give their names to them as a sanction of their approbation. They who signed his " inconceiv- able" were men of eminence, and considered this teacher as another man of eminence. To form a bet- ter idea of their talents, here are the names of the gentlemen, and probably some of them are known to you, by fame at least. — Timothy Stromony, Esq. a celebrated astronomer, Dr. Addlehead, whom you can judge of by his name, Dr. Squab, a celebrated lin- guist, Monsieur Paddlefoot, Tommy Silverpot, Jem- my Gooselook, Johnny Classical, Horace Brumagen, Dr. Spindle, Dr. Puff, Virgil Talkall, Sec. — Now my friend., what could I say or do to remove this mountain of abilities ? — I could do nothing. 172 * REFORMER. As to the first great man, " great let me call him/'" for he has puzzled me, and thrown indissoluble chains over my talents, I have only to observe, that those per- sons signatures have exalted him above all praise. I have given my opinion of this preceptor, and from the peculiar situation, in which he has placed himself, I shall leave it to the public to say whether my ob- servations be true or not. And as for the others, they cannot be so blind to the good order and harmony of society as to refuse giving them their due share — of WHATEVER THEY MAY THINK PROPER. I have be- stowed mine very cordially and liberally : for I well know into what hands I shall get, when the displeas- ure of men of erudition is excited against me. It is almost impossible to affect a reconciliation. — But it is now high time to sum up. Well my friend, what do you think of what I have said ? Do you not consider such theatrical representations mere literary swindles? I know you will say yes, and that is my opinion.' — I should not have stooped to notice this droll stuff, this cracking business, to rake from their muddy bed. these drawlings and gestures of servility had they not been recommended by the teacher himself, which savours too much of pride unconscious of worth, and more particularly, obtruded on the public by Dr. Squab, who wishes all persons to send their children to this Roscius (I call him so by way of pre-eminence) this very elegant and polite scholar, who is not only mas- ter of his own language, but also can write Latin and Greek with as great purity and correctness as he does the English, and may, for aught I know, be able to speak them as fluently as Dr. Squab. REFORMER. 173 THE WONDERFUL ORATOR AND LOGICIAN. " Omnis homines, qui sese student praestare csetecis am% malibus, summaope, niti decet, ne vitam silentio transeant, ve- luti pecora, quse natura prona atque ventri obedientia finxit. Sed nostra omnis vis in animo et corpore sita est. Animi im- erio, corporis servitio magis utimur ; alterum nobis cum diis, alterum cum belluis commune est." Salhist. It becomes all men, who aspire to excel other animals, to labour with the utmost might, not to pass their life in silence, as cattle, which nature has formed grovelling and subject to the belly. Now, all our ability is seated in the soul and body. In most cases we use the direction of the soul, the service of the body : the former is common to us with the Gods, the latter with the brutes. I am one of those, who have, from an early age, considered it as a sacred duty to devote my time, when not necessarily employed in attention to private affairs, to the improvement of my mind, and have found by- experience, that this important object, cannot be so ef- fectually obtained by any other mode, as by that of making myself acquainted with the treasures contain- ed in the sacred Scriptures, which constitute, as it were, " a lamp to our feet, and a light to our path," and with the valuable reflections and observations, which are to be found in almost every page of the writings of the venerable sages of Greece and Rome. I have long held in abhorrence, that thoughtless and truly indiscreet indifference with respect to time, which, at present, characterizes a very large portion ©f our fellow citizens, of every rank, age, and descrip? P 2 174 REFORMER. tion ; but more especially those of our youth. In re- gard to myself, I do in truth, consider the prodigality or unprofitable expenditure of this invaluable and alto- gether irredeemable article to be infinitely more det- rimental to my interest, than the loss of money ; and though I consider it my duty, on the score of prece- dence and moral rectitude, to take due care of both ; yet I would certainly deem myself much more culpa- ble, in being thoughtlessly negligent in respect to the former than to the latter. Tempus prseterritum nunquam revertitur. Hor. Time past never returns. I am, therefore, desirous to improve every moment to the best advantage, and for this purpose, I endeavour to avoid, as much as possible, those associations or assemblies, from which I have reason to apprehend, that I can gain no mental improvement. I have an- other reason for my opinion on this head, which per- haps, may not strike every one at first sight, as it does me ; but, which, I believe, to be nevertheless, strictly correct. It is this. In morals and in refinement of taste, there is no standing still. We must either pro- gress, or, to -use the words of some celebrated trans- atlantic generals, in speaking of the retreat of their armies, we must " make a retrograde motion." Upon principles, which I have already mentioned, and upon others, which will naturally occur to the man of intelligence, I therefore resolved most scrupulously to avoid those associations or parties, or by whatever name they were called, which might deteriorate the morals ; but which could never amend them. Various REFORMER. 175 and happy effects resulted to me from this determina- tion, so long as I adhered to it, amongst which, this was not one of the least, viz. that I became quite a domestic man, was delighted with my books and my family, and found that peace, at home, which it was in vain for me to expect any where else, and which it is impossible for the world either to give or take away. But as some young females, distinguished by a number of graces, which are, in our times, deemed peculiarly applicable to the formation of a modern fine lady, had pressed me to honour them (as they called it) with my company for only one evening, I, though with great reluctance, consented to make one of the party, I accordingly went ; but as I apprehended, so it hap- pened, that I met with nothing which could be con- ducive either to my amusement or satisfaction. Hence I again and again wished myself to be at home and engaged in poring over, in silent meditation, the sub- lime maxims of the ancients, made more so by the* flight of years, which have elapsed since their days. To enumerate all the causes of my chagrin and dis- gust would be, by far, too tedious. I shall, therefore, content myself with mentioning a few of them. It was the first time, that I had been, in what is called fash- ionable company, and from every thing which I saw and heard, • I was soon satisfied, that I should have been more happy, if I had been with a few of those well meaning and plain, but intelligent people, with whom it had heretofore been my good fortune to asso- ciate. On entering the room (ill-fated moment to my re- pose ; for I have thought of it ever since) I perceived the 176 REFORMER. company to be distributed into several groups. I ap~ proached with an air, which certainly carried the marks of a rustic genius, arising, as I have before observed, from my being unaccustomed to the company of people of quality and politeness. Keeping always in mind the advice of Dr. Goldsmith to a poor man, whom he advises to shrink into the room as fast as he can, and place himself, as usual, upon a chair in a remote corner. I soon stole off unperceived, to indulge myself in medi- tating on some of those passages, which I had been reading in the afternoon. This too, was, in my opin- ion, performed to admiration, as I had always been ac- customed to humble myself to my superiours in knowl- edge and etiquette of manners. Though thus retired from the main circle, I was frequently interrupted, in the course of my reflections, by the conversation of a young gentlemen (as he styled himself) with whom the company seemed to be highly entertained and grat- ified. He was continually endeavouring to display his- talents to the best advantage ; disputing on cases of law, on politics, and on religion ; which last, in par- ticular, no man was ever less qualified, both from men- tal imbecility and habitual depravity ; and with respect to the two former, he was so extremely defective, that he would have shown his prudence, if he had been al- together silent. He was totally unmindful of those, who were present, as long as he could hear himself " chatter." Were any opinion advanced, however or- thodox, if it did not coincide precisely with bis own, the author of the sentiment was immediately addressed by the appellation of "fool" or some other tifle equal- ly delicate. But if a coincidence of sentiments, upon 1 REFORMER. 177 any subject, existed between " this young gentleman" and any other person in the room, that person was deemed by him, a man possessed of a correct and delicate taste, and a good understanding. It has been observed, that almost every circumstance which takes place in human life, may be made a source of instruc- tion and amusement to the observer. This was plain- ly verified, this evening, and here I learned this use- ful lesson ; that, in discoursing with an illiterate and self-conceited person, the best way to obtain his com- mendations, and avoid his scurrilous invectives, is not to contradict him, but to nod a seeming assent to whatev- er he may say. Although, I esteem the opinion of one intelligent man, more than that of a thousand block- heads ; yet as self-conceited gentlemen sometimes have considerable influence over the minds of their acquain- tance, and these over theirs, I think it worthy of every man's pains, to endeavour if possible, to escape the censure of illiteracy and dogmatism, with which such men are apt to charge those, who are, in fact, far su- periour to them in mental refinement, and only esteem- ed by the votaries of dulness and impudence, inferiour in bodily accomplishments and- strength of mind. — » It would not answer for any one to contradict the " young gentleman" whom I am describing ; for the intelligent at least, were certain of being doubly mor- tified ; in the first place by the torrent of invective, with which he assailed them, as he seemed determin- ed to deter, not by cogency of argument, but by abuse ; and in the second, from seeing a human being thus de- grading himself by his own folly. These, indeed, are Rot the characteristics of one only, but are generally 178 REFORMER. applicable to those, who have obtained a superficial knowledge of a science, an art, or a book or two, or of those, who from a state of ignorance and poverty, have, by fortune, been elevated to ease and opulence. This young man is a very apposite example, which, with the addition of his flattered abilities, exalted' him to an eminence, from which he looked down upon all, as devoid of sense, of erudition, and in fact,, even of human feelings. Nursed in penury, and pampered with luxury when grown up, indulged by parents in idle- ness, and consequently in ignorance, he had never learned to set a right value upon the blessings of liter- ature, and looked with scorn upon those, who dared to arraign his opinions, or place themselves in the- scales with him, in point of wit, learning, birth or wealth. To ask him a reason for what he advanced was to give offence, and the only answer that could be obtained from him was, that he knew what he had said was correct, from " his experience and observation *, and more, said he, to firove, that I am not, nor cannot be mistaken, I have examined every action and word, for seven years past," and to conclude, to use his own words, " he knew himself." Well done Chilo I Very wise indeed ! Seven years experience ! A very long time ! I who was seeking instruction, at these sounds, began to prick up my ears, and listen more attentively to this great and learned man, who, I be- gan to think, was somehow (unknown to" us) akin to the immortals ; drawing, at the same time, my chair, along side of a very decent looking man, who sat near me. While I was lost in admiring this eighth wise REFORMER. 179 man, a speck of dust swelled into such an immense bulk, that my mind might as well have attempted to have grasped space, as his wonderful mental powers ; the conversation happened to turn upon the immortali- ty of the soul, and one of the company assuming more than mortal courage, contradicted the premises whick he had laid down. He proceeded to point out the un- soundness of his observations, and having finished, re- sumed his seat, with much pomp, at the same time sticking up his ears, and looking as wise as a silly face would let him. Upon which the learned gentleman sprang upon the floor, assuming various attitudes and grimaces, characteristic of an illumined mind, and be- gan his speech, by observing, " that his opponent's silly declamation, put him in mind of a country lawyer, who being engaged to defend a suit, against a very eminent councellor, and after having heard the said eminent councellor, exclaimed, Gentlemen of the Jury, I know you are men of no uncommon sagacity ; there- fore, it is needless to address you upon the point, on which my illiterate opponent makes so great a stand. You may depend upon it, gentlemen, that all he has uttered is not true : there was not a logical deduction in the whole course of his speech. Logic ! I don't be- lieve he knows what it means i What he has said nev- er entered into any man's head but' his own. His lan- guage is inelegant ; his — ■ his — his— I know not what to call it ; but every thing is bad — But I suppose, that you, Gentlemen of the Jury, know what I mean ; if I can't name the technical phrases of the law, I will leave it to Judge Blackstone or Lord Coke, whether I can distinguish sense from nonsense or not. Hav- 130 REFORMER. ing confuted his ill fabricated hypothesis, Gentlemen of the Jury, I retire, under a full conviction, that you will decide against such a man, by giving the verdict in favour of such a man. — I have done.'* The company seemed panic -struck, and darted looks of contempt at the opponent for his audacity in con- tending with a man, so far superiour to half the human race ; then viewed the prator with silent admiration, nodding assent, and expressing their approbation of his Ciceronian eloquence, and the seeming profundity of his sentiments. They appeared highly pleased with those sounds, which to me were altogether unintelligi- ble. None of his arguments, during the evening, have ever made so deep an impression on my mind, as the one, wherein he contended, that the spirit of a dog, a cat, a hog, or a monkey, was as immortal as a man's soul, and I suppose, he meant, possessed of the ope- rations of the mind, such as recollection, reflection judging, &c. I draw this inference, because he gen- erally drew no conclusions, from which cause his deep- ness of penetration appeared so great to those present ; that is, he made use of such high sounding words, un- applicable to the ideas (if he had any) which he inten- ded to convey to the mind of the company, that they in reality, thought themselves deficient in understand- ing, and paid homage to the depth of his learning, bor- dering on adoration. While he was proceeding in his horrid detail, (happy for me) he was sent for, " to set ufi" with a sick person, who, in reality, was not half so much diseased as himself. But before he departed, it was essentially necessary for him to display some of his sufijiosed rejined ivit, which I shall here recoid, REFORMER. 181 more for curiosity than for any other purpose. Indeed, I never before saw " such a group" together, nor ever witnessed more inconsistent sayings and false reason- ings, affected sensibility, and ostentatious breeding, so well suited to please a company, and pass away an hour of merriment, as these good people so properly called it. The instance of misapplied and false wit, of which I am to speak, is this : at first he mistook the landlady's daughter, for the landlady herself, which to be sure, was no small mortification to the accomfilished and beautiful Miss , at which some laughed at his impertinence, some from the supposed knowledge the Quack possessed (Quack let me call him, for there are such curious things in Literature, as well as in Medicine) and others through the fear of their becom- ing the objects of his sarcastic humour. He then rid- iculed Mr. 's abilities, to which, in truth, being akin to those of an idiot, he did ample justice ; for fools are sometimes, as apt to make and apply appro- priate sayings as crazy people. To sum up, he pulled out his snuff-box. (for it must be remembered that to appear wise, it has become the fashion to appear sin- gular) hit it two or three raps with his fingers, in a a manner as if a new thought had just gleamed across his mind, and bedaubed his nose, cheeks and eyes, so full, that the poor fellow imitated with more propriety the notes of a Pandean minstrel, than the sounds of a rational being. This, to be sure, made him look very wise and very witty. And lo ! the scene that followed ! What blushing and fidgetting among the girls ; (and in- deed this was a proper time, if ever, to show a little modesty, and perhaps sense) stooping and cringing, Q 182 REFORMER. creeping forward and going backward, winking and nodding, so that one might have imagined that this mock heroic scene had been hatching since the crea- tion of the world. Here vanity assumes her pert grimace, And trims her robes of prize with copper-lace. Perceiving that the company appeared to be delight- ed even with this, " I began to imagine, that instead of desiring to see things as they should be, they were rather solicitous of seeing them as they ought not to be. A cat wijh four legs is disregarded, though ever so useful ; but if it have but two, and is consequently incapable of catching mice, it is reckoned inestimable, and every man of taste is ready to raise the auction. A man, though in his person faultless as an aerial ge- nius, might starve ; but if stuck over with hideous warts like a porcupine, his fortune is made forever, and he may propagate the breed with impunity and ap- plause." * The company at length being rid of such a thing (for I know of no name to address him by) I could not help observing to him who sat next to me, that he was the greatest oddity I had ever seen, and inquiring who he was. I learned that he was descended of low parent- age, and that, by " good fortune," he had become rich. Those present, yet continued to praise and admire his talents. For my own part, I could not help grieving to see human nature so degraded. Men of noble minds and correct opinions are shocked at seeing any of their * Goldsmith. REFORMER. 183 fellow mortals thus bent on rendering themselves ridic- ulous, for the purpose of appearing singular and learn- ed ; or who rather, through the means of a perverted taste, and corrupt mind, having nothing but the outside to distinguish them as men, thus assiduously study to debase and degrade themselves. Wishing the company a good night's rest,. I returned home, being more satisfied than ever, that those sen- tences of Sallust, with which I headed the present es- say, are applicable to a much greater portion of man- kind than is generally apprehended. 334 REFORMER. TO MENTIUS, &c* •' Gaudet monstris, mentisque tumultu." Lucan. He delights in what is strange or monstrous, and in all the tumult and confusion of the mind. I have, according to your polite request, made my appearance in the paper recommended. I am always ready to defend whatever principles I advance, and shall never shrink from an attempt to support them by proper arguments. You well know the contents, as well as the intention of my former essay. I need not, ,* As this essay is local, it is deemed necessary, to make a few observations on the cause which gave it existence. It appears to be addressed to an individual ; but under the term Mentius I intend to characterize a band of men, leagued in a social compact to undermine the firmest pillars of a nation, by destroying the vital principles of religion, and who gloried in calumnies, which tended to injure the reputation of hon- ourable, worthy and enlightened men. This band consisted of fifteen or twenty Instructors of youth, who assembled at what is called a "grog shop," for the purpose of carousing, and contriving means by which they could most easily perpet- uate those crimes of which I have spoken above. Not con- tent with this, with a blaspheming heart, and wanton auda- city, they jointly edited a paper, fraught with the bitterest calumnies against a number of respectable citizens, and the most virulent invectives against the church of Christ. But thanks to God, it lived no longer than the triumph of auda- ciousness and infidelity, God in his rig-hteous Providence, quenched that fatal spark, which had involved Europe in war, and sunk her into eternal infamy and scorn. The mighty warriour against Christ fell — and in the agonies of death — when his beamless eye portrayed the despair of his mind, which had never excited him to fervency of prayer — uttered confused and stifled curses against the avenger of sin — the God of Heaven, the God of Mercy, at whose feet no penitent soul ever sued for mercy in vain. — In vain did this man per- ish— t&e tortures of bis mind— his dying irreverence to the REFORMER* 185 therefore, enter into a particular controversy concerning the advantages to be derived from my communication. Whether the style be an imitation of the most finished productions in the time of Addison or Goldsmith, is Lord of Hosts, had no effects upon the mind of those who surrounded his bed and watched the guilty spirit till it flew. They must wait till a more awful moment— that moment soon arrived. Another of those frail mortals, who dared to ar- raign the power of the Most High, Scoff and mock at his de- nunciations against the violators of his laws and his just dis- pensations — fell a victim to his wrath. This man, at his final hour, died in agony, which wrung a few tears from his the- omachan compeers. His death in part dissolved the union, their principal leaders having passed into another world, where all is happiness or where all is torment. Since the idle business of their life is over, I will not speak of them in terms which may bring to the recollection of their friends their conduct in this narrow and imperfect state of existence. But to the others, who live but to calumniate and injure man, and all those who are allied to them in their conduct or sentiments, I address this essay, leaving it to the world to see what vile wretches exist, wretches who pretend to instruct our youth properly, by inftising into their pliant minds such principles as would assist them to avoid the same destruction which is in- evitable to all those who perish in the plenitude of their guilt. The Thersites of the ancient Greeks, extremely character- istic of this band, is thus described by Mr. Pope ; and may be applied to it with some little alteration. I wish not to injure the character of enemies when dead, and therefore bid them an eternal farewell. I prefer the Athenian to the Egyptian custom. The former allowed no tongue to utter truths which would derogate from the reputation of the deceased ; the latter rigorously judged his character, and if known to have been base and vile, was refused the rites of burial. " Thersites only clamour'd in the throng, Loquacious, loud and turbulent of tongue Avv'd by no shame, by no respect controul'd, In scandal busy, in reproaches bold ; With witty malice studious to defame ; Scorn all his joy, and laughter all his aim ; Spleen to mankind his envious heart possess'd, And much he hated all, but most the best." Uo?ner , s Iliad, _B. 2* Q 2 186 REFORMER. another consideration ; the manner is deemed secon- dary with me. It is the energy and correctness of the sentiments, which attract public attention, and demand admiration and applause. We do not consult style on every occasion, nor consider it as the basis of solid improvement. We require the effusions of a sound understanding, which are alone sufficient to recom- pense readers, for deficiencies in the choice of lan- guage, elegance of figures, metaphorical allusions and smooth periods. But these have altogether, as well as correct principles, been little attended to by you, and the opinions of a malignant heart, dressed in a most fantastic garb, usurp their place. They appear to be the dreams of a distempered imagination, or the effusions of one racked by madness, under the influ- ence of irritation and malevolence. " If you are not of the kind of these ranting and foaming bedlamites, you and your co-adjutors prove yourselves to be either of the race of men, whose heads do grow beneath their shoulders, or of the number of those unfortunate per- sons, whose brain is shaken out of its natural position." With respect to the sentiments which I have ad- vanced, I have constituted the public my judge. If they be unjust, let them perish. Let them follow the illiberal invective and scurrility of Mentins, and his bacchanalian compeers, to the grave. I do not wish them to live, if they be productive of evil ; the regions of oblivion are the proper receptacle for all injurious pub- lications. But I believe that no man of common under- standing, possessed of a virtuous education and clear conscience, will contradict the assertion, that a private theatre often proves a convenient chapel of ease to REFORMER. 187 Hymen. They who do not think my #eflections just, will finally discover the natural and inevitable conse- quence of boys and girls making love to one another upon a public or private stage, particularly in a pri- vate theatre. If it terminate in a runaway marriage, the patrons of this kind of modern education, must neither be surprised nor offended. If it end in an in- trigue ; if the girls be seduced, and the boys enter in- to life with the manners and morals of stage-players, the parents have only, in either of these cases, to con- demn themselves for their folly and inconsistency. These are the sentiments, which I have laid before the public, and these are they, which you call ridic- ulous, and " productive of evil" With justice and truth, therefore, I may assert, that the apparent con- futation of them (if I ma}^ so call it) has proved at once the weakness of your understanding and the blackness of your heart. Nor do I intend, Sir, to re- linquish them ; though you, or any other men of your character, may use your utmost exertions in the vain attempt of vindicating a practice so very detrimental to the harmony and welfare of society, so opposite to every feeling of humanity, and though you may be de- sirous of laying a foundation, upon which, if you could succeed in raising a fabric, it would be subversive of all morality, religion and virtue. I am not to be ter- rified by the demoniac, ill-natured sarcasms of those, who are utterly strangers to the observing of Christ's holy laws : nor am I to surrender my liberties, when they are invaded by an immoral and insolent foe ; but to use every means which God and nature have put into my power, to expel deistical principles, and un= 188 REFORMER. logical deductions, and establish in their place, senti- ments and opinions, which have stood the test of time, of criticism, infidelity and satire. Falsehood may mis- represent them ; but they are still intrinsically the same. Religion, by her enemies, has been long mis- represented and made a tool of malicious and fanatic influence ; but her true nature is still the same, and will continue the same, pure and immaculate, not only when the works of- such men as you shall be forgotten, but even when the most stupendous works of art and nature shall be annihilated, when the elements shall melt with fervent heat, and when, to close the awful scene, the last signal trump shall arouse the sleeping- world from their long dark slumber. Mentius, what will then become of you ? I sincerely wish, that by a well timed repentance and amendment of life, you may yet be enabled, through the merits and mediation of our blessed Redeemer, to avoid that dreadful sentence, which, at that awful period, will be pronounced against those, who shall have died finally impenitent and un- converted — " Depart from me ye workers of iniquity into everlasting punishment prepared for you before the foundation of the world." You are found to have done evil. Sophocles. Hot headed champions like you, Sir, are ever ready to engage in any cause, subversive of good govern- ment and religion ; because they restrain you and oth- er votaries of Bacchus in some degree, from execu- ting your infamous designs ; a violation of which the jurisprudence of our country would punish with a fate correspondent to the crime. I know you well, but REFORMER. 189 for the sake of posterity, a veil shall be drawn over your names. I should be touched with commiseration, did I believe, that unborn ages would hear of the malign war which you wage against the church of Christ and his disciples. But Mentius, let me caution you and your compan- ions in sin, to take care how you persevere in your high-handed career of wickedness and impiety ; for be ye assured, that unless you can arrest the progress of time, hurl the Most High from his throne, drive religion out of this world ; procure the union of all men in one cursed asseveration against the Father and Son, and also in one general denial of the existence of heaven and hell ; those who die finally impenitent, will in vain, think of escaping the fierce indignation of the Almighty. And be ye assured, that " it is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God," a God, who though merciful to the regenerate, will in- fallibly punish those, who continue to the end, in the determined violation of all laws both human and divine. I would likewise admonish you, that though, by your art and cunning, you may elude being brought before an earthly tribunal for the crimes, which you may have committed against your fellow-men, by which means, you may not receive the punishment, which is justly due to you in this world; yet, Sir, let me tell you, that you will at last have to appear before an all seeing judge^ " who will reward or punish every man according to his works." This is a judge, whom no man can possibly deceive, as he not only knows all our words and actions, but even the very thoughts of *ur hearts. These are most serious reflections, and 190 REFORMER. I wish that they may meet that consideration, which their importance requires. But it is not because you have misrepresented or styled my arguments absurd or trivial, that I have come forward to vindicate them. They want no vin- dication. They speak for themselves. But it is be- cause you have propagated atheistical doctrines, and endeavoured to shake the principles of our youth, and sever them from the cause of Christ, and social so- ciety. It is because you have persecuted an innocent man, both in public prints and private conversation, vilified his learning, and imputed to "him the worst of motives. Calumny stalks at large in your converse, and blasts the character of your friend. Not satisfied with this, it arraigns his wife and children at its inW hallowed tribunal, and wounds parental and filial affec- tion. It emits its pestilential breath, and the fairest flower soon droops and dies. Though the laws assume in some points, the guardianship of a man's reputa- tion ; yet they cannot shield a man's feelings. They are a natural gift, and the power of law has no control over them. Few things are more worthy of preserv- ing than personal reputation. This, Sir, you have endeavoured to asperse, and wrong the man, who has to you proved himself a father. It is characteristic | of you, however, as filial ingratitude still adheres to you with all its natural malignity.— -Though the eflfu- | sions which occupy your essay, are from the pens of the most infamous, abandoned and despicable of man- kind, yet they are never without the power of ill con- sequences. They will add weight to hostile animad- i versions, weaken the confidence of his friends, and REFORMER. j[Q^ darken the lustre which shrouds his character. They are the offspring of a heart laden with iniquity, ready to disgorge itself upon the virtuous and learned. You have by them acknowledged your depravity, though con- trary to your intentions ; and invented slander, which you intended should ruin an honest man,, but have brought the murky storm, which has long been gath- ering, on your own heads, exposed your dishonest arts and malignant intentions, and cited yourselves before the unerring judgment of your country, which demands you to be made a public sacrifice. She would lose nothing, but gain much. It would be an example to your proselytes. And if the hour has not arrived, it soon will, when your disingenuous, designing and ca- lumniating soul shall be arraigned before the tribunal of your native realms, and suffer a punishment worthy of the accumulated crimes, preserved without the hazard of diminution in your iniquitous breast. You then will have no asylum, to which you may fly to shelter you from the vengeance of a justly incensed public and God ; no refuge where your enormities may plead the place of virtues ; no place, which will not reproach you with the want of religion and moral obligation ; no place, which will not seem a hell to you. You may then pertinently exclaim in the touching accents of Satan 5 f< Me miserable,which way shall I fly, From infinite wrath and infinite despair ? Which way I fly is hell. Myself am hell, And in the lowest depth, a lower deep, Still threatening 1 to devour me opens wide, To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven." Milton. 192 REFORMER. I have a right to retort the language, which you have thought it expedient to use. The contemptuous and virulent sentiments which you have deemed prop- er to adopt, while they cannot degrade you in the pub- lic estimation, I hope, may never affect the object of your unjust and unprovoked abuse, nor the guardians of youth , though it may, for a moment, wound their feelings; for you must consider, if you never have heretofore, that all do not possess the same cynical nature with yourself. Their grief then will not arise from the opinions,* which such poor wretches as you entertain concerning them ; but from seeing you act so incompatibly with the dignity of human nature, and debase yourselves to a state as low and degrading as that ever occupied by the meanest and most worthless men, who either at the present or any former period, have disgraced society. Were you therefore to insinuate, Messrs. Mentius, and Co. that I expect to enhance my reputation by an- swering the scurrilous invectives, which blacken ev- ery line of your silly essay, it would be an imposition on the dullest understanding. It would be the prime cause of its non-existence, and your vile names would blast the present hopes entertained ; the bubble would vanish like a meteor in a storm, and they would encum- ber it, as it floats on the silent current of time. Neither will I compare your virtues to the man's greatest foi- bles, whom you have abused, " for his failings lean to virtue's side." But should I, Mentius, &c. apply * Opinions or sentiments of any kind, however injurious, if contained in the proprietor's breast alone, cannot injure any but himself. REFORMER. 193 the name of virtue to you, the prostitution of her char- acter, would be a reproach t© my reputation to the la- test posterity. She would wither at the thought. It would be tarnishing her name without cause, without provocation. If you are dissatisfied with this delineation of your- self and your fit associates, appeal to the public for their opinion and support, They will soon determine, and justly too. But your reference must be made to those stampt after the image of yourselves. You will among them obtain a willing audience. You there may look for a sort of protection. But do not appeal for your own, as well as others' sakes, to men of hon- our and sincerity ; for their names offered by your pol- luted hands at the temple of virtue would be rejected with scorn from the un worthiness of the donors, " Jamne vides, bellua, jamne sends, quae sit hominum querula frontis tuse ?" * Cicero. Though the whole of your essay has no demands upon common sense ; yet such as it is, I will give my opinion of it, without reserve or disguise. I will how- ever remark, that you may not be disappointed, as to the claims your composition has upon the public, that what Cicero observes of Hegesias the IVIagneeian, in his Orator, may be very justly applied to men of your class. " He is faulty," says he, « no less in his thoughts^ than his expressions^ so that no one, who has any knowledge of him, need ever be at a loss for a man to call impertinent." * Dost thou not see, blockhead, dost thou not now perceive what complaints are made of thy impudence ? R 194 REFORMER. As the practice of attempting to criticise has become very fashionable of late, I am by no means, surprised to find such superficial men as you among the number. If you had ever given any certificate of four philological abilities worthy of notice, you might expect a little pal- liation for your compound of absurdities ; though your motives would be universally condemned. It immediate- ly appears, upon a. perusal of your communication, that you and your impartial brothers, were instigated, not by any laudable intention ; but by personal animosity and envy. Your animadversions are aimed at a man's superiour literary attainments ; it is the cause of all your scurrility and abuse. You, therefore, must be depraved, indeed, who would banish from your breasts every sentiment of honour, every feeling of humanity, to humiliate him on account of his eminent standing in society. Had you been spurred on with the desire of accomplishing a commendable reformation in any par- ticular follies or vices, the silly wit, which pervades your despicable compilation (it may be justly called so, as I shall directly show) would have had the merit of good intention. This may be done in order to produce good effects. But, Mentius, blush for your deformities of mind. — Yet I know that there are many, who will co- incide with you in your censure, and captiously object to all I have said. Captious ignorance however will object to every thing, which is praise-worthy. Those men, who are opposed to the dissemination of pure doctrine and solid improvement, owe their prejudices and false notions to such preposterous methods, as yon have recommended. Allured by the gaudy shows of fantastic and superficial knowledge, they have made REFORMER. 195 no sound proficiency. Among the whole host of your acquaintance, you will find none possessed of any of the requisites of a scholar and gentleman, who does not despise your sentiments upon such an important subject; if not, I who am not single in the opinion, would not hesitate to rank him with that, wittiless class of men, who„ condemn what they do not understand. " DamnanV quod non intelligunt." You, admirable critic, after lavishing your termsr of reproach with a very liberal hand, commence with this wonderful assertion, and continue your remarks some- what similar, throughout your supereminent perform- ance. Thus say you, " there are many things in my adversary's essay, entirely ludicrous and impertinent.'* Of the acute observations, of you second Longinuses, we have one of your best specimens. Now, here I would! observe, that I never published any essay whatever, previous to the one, under your critical pens, nor have I alluded to any particular person or persons. " It must, therefore, of necessity require much invention, or perversion of mind, to prove that one man can be an adversary to another, who is equally ignorant of his person and writings." I never thought of you, com- ical heroes, and as to adversaries, I have indeed, found you a very wittiless and harmless sort of animals. It would have been happy for you, all-learned wri- ters, had you let your criticism stop here, "you would have saved yourselves and friends much additional contempt." " You say, with some christian self-com- placency, have you (I will stake the whole cause upon this issue) invariably done unto others, as you 196 REFORMED. wish that others should do unto you ?" I will here again remark, that the greater part of your observa- tions have been extracted from a defence of the Pur- suits of Literature, a highly estimable satirical Poem, but with this additional and sufieriour emendation, that in your plagiarism, you have proved yourselves totally ig- norant of grammatical construction. And as you have thought fit to take such passages from this work, after such alterations as you deemed, would, in your opinion, render them subservient to your base designs, I hope, I shall be allowed the same privilege of continuing the P. of L's remarks, as they answer my purposes ex- tremely well. In reply, then, to the present plagiar- ized sentence, I say, " that whoever feels the infirmity of- human nature, has already answered the question and borne testimony to the folly of the man, who has been weak enough to propose it. But the intention of the o^iestion, and the region to which you would fain consign me, are easy to conjecture. You remind me of the Night-walker, or little thief, in the comedy of Beaumont and Fletcher, who has his nurse, servants, l-cll-ringers, and sexton all ready for his interment. Nay you seem willing to follow me to the w r orld un- known, and even to anticipate my sentence." " Still there is always something unfortunate in the imitations of inferiour writers. Indeed, they seldom discover the proper object of imitation. Sir William Draper was an ingenious man, and a good scholar ; but imprudent in his conduct. He had zeal without knowl- edge, and boldness without discretion. He volunta- rily attacked Junius, " whose shoe's latchet you my ad- versaries declare, I am not worthy to unloose." That &EFORMEB.. 197 is, you mean yourselves, not Junius, Here it seems you have another peep at the P. of L. but have not acknowledged it. " But the wanton and impious lev- ity of the allusion, I leave you to reconcile with deco- rum. You are here unhappy rivals of Sir William, in putting- questions from the Scriptures. I shall say with Junius, " Such a question, Sir, may perhaps dis- compose the gravity of my muscles ; but I believe it will little affect the tranquillity of my conscience." It would be a Herculean task for me to analyze your farcical composition, produced by your conjoined la- bours. I will, therefore, make a few observations, up- on the motives which gave rise to it. As to the senti- ments themselves, which I have advanced, you (won- derful philologists) merely assert that they are triviaL Such a reply needs no refutation; it carries on its face its own condemnation. It is a piece of criticism (if I inay-so call it) that puzzles me as much to form a con- ception of, as the incongruous combination which Lord Bolingbroke calls a mixture of theism and atheism ; a co-operation of God and chance. You farther observe, that " you have not investigated the subject, and (a lo- gical deduction for once) consequently, are inadequate -to judge concerning it." I agree in opinion. Now what addle-headed fellows you must be, to undertake the refutation of any principles, without having first duly investigated them. It is a very common way of pacifying the ignorant part of the populace. It is also a common mode with the votaries of atheism to answer passages of the Holy Scriptures. This very just re? mark of yours implies one of these two things, First, R 2 19S REFORMER. that you were incapable of giving a just reply (which, indeed, appears to be the case) or second, that the sentiments were so palpable, so self-evident, that you were conscious they could not be confuted, and that personal abuse was the only instrument which could, in the least, affect them in the eyes of the public. Now, Sir, what motive induced you to attempt to vindicate • a practice, which has prevailed among none, but the most illiterate, or amongst those, whose folly and ina- bility, in arrogating to themselves the highly respon- sible office of rigid education, have been the cause of their inveighing against those pure opinions which ev- ery christian and enlightened person will support ? If you did not wish to confute principles, what other cause is, left to assign except an inveterate hatred. Your Philipic assertions will, therefore, have little weight upon charitable minds. If you cannot prove my opin- ions erroneous, why have you written ? and if princi- ples be not proved, what remains but a play upon words, or perhaps, as you mighty scribblers in prose are pleased to term it, wit. Surely, therefore, such opinions as yours, and none but such, would come from the pens of any men, unless they had been stewed in corruption, and were endeavouring to purge them- selves of such base notions,at the expence of other men's moral and literary reputations. You have attempted to ridicule truth, and thereby rendered yourself contempti- ble. God himself may be ridiculed. But who are they who would dare do it ? None but Mentius and his BAND OF CO-ADJUTORS. My remarks were not aimed at any particular per- son, but at the man, who would make fool enough of REFORMER, 199 himself, in undertaking to inculcate that which cannot be taught, or in other words, by attempting to supply the defects of nature» I should here like to make one inquiry. Since so much cockney wit pervades the whole of your com- munication, I should like to know, under whose sa- gacious tuition you learned it Was it under that of Johnny Minshull, who has gone to Europe to diffuse his classic lore, because learning was not patronized by the American community ? If so, since you enter- tain a notion of becoming the rival of that matchless genius, I beg you will seek that literary shore also s to preserve your flights of wit, and leave something to posterity to manifest the powers of your boundless imagination ; for they cannot live among your " fel= LOW TEACHERS HERE." As to the pertinacity of your remarks, no one can now remain in doubt of your Bavian mental powers, nor will any doubt of your intentions. You (in a word) have totally left the subject under consideration. Like the snarling cur you have attempted to fix your ma- lignant fangs in the heart of a man, who is wholly ig- norant of my communication. No one but the writer knows it. Your baleful eyes have singled him out, and malice with its hydra tongue inflicted a wound which ought to rankle in your insatiated bosoms, till the grave claims its victims. When two dogs are fighting in the streets, With a third dog, one of the dogs meets, * With angry tooth he bites him to the bone, And this dog' smarts, for what that dog has done. 200 REFORMED. It is evident from the abusive language which you have used, that you have been stung by the truth of the sentiments, and finding no way to disprove them, you have, like all weak and malicious men, endeavoured to ridicule that, which you cannot confute. The mot- to, " that ridicule is the test of truth" has failed here. It may answer in some cases, but handled by you it would defeat its purposes. Your folly and invective may tickle the ears of the vulgar and illiberal ; but cannot be overlooked by the virtuous and learned. — Had you employed what little you know, upon any thing, except vindicating the practice of acting obscene plays at school, with the non-appearance of malig- nant intentions, I should have considered your attempts both pardonable and praise-worthy. The low ribaldry which pervades your Maevian composition, if nothing else were added, is sufficient to explain your motives. The free and indiscriminate use of low epithets, so utterly inconsistent with decorum, which characterize your sufieriour intellectual and moral refinement, mark your fertile minds, and your collected scraps show you to be men of as much taste as judgment. a To conceive that such men as you can confer praise on any man, is an insult to any understanding. The pub- lic do not expect to discover what is eloquent and spir- ited from such wooden oracles* The state will ac- knowledge their best friends, and literature its best defenders, without your assistance or direction. Such men (as you) have neither part nor lot in the region of the learned. In the temple of immortality, your voice cannot be heard. Even the names you would HEFORMEH. ^01 fain present to the guardians of that temple, would be rejected from the unworthiness of the votaries." As to the flimsy stuff, which pervades the sixth par- agraph, concerning the state of an infant's mind at its birth, I shall not give a more satisfactory answer than this: as you are philosophers, that is, pseudo phi- losophers, I advise you to read Lock, Stewart, Reid, Berkly, Shrew, Condillac, &c> you will there find, what 1 have advanced is supported by the most consummate philosophical writers, And now, you composition of Bavius and Msevius,* as one good turn deserves another, I would advise, in the place of drowning such harmless things as puppies (this indeed is very applicable to the subject of acting plays at school) that you crawl to your bed-chambers, and ponder over the subject of which you acknowledge yourselves ignorant, so that you may hereafter be ca- pable, either to justify or confute my sentiments ; till which time, oh, ye tinsel writers ! I bid you adieu, Semel causam dixi (vel iterum dicturus) quo semper agere solitus sum, accusatorio spihitu. Livy. " I have once spoken in this great cause (prepared to re- peat my words, if required) with that spirit which I am ever wont to assume, the spirit of an accuser." N. B... .Notwithstanding considerable attention has been bestowed in correcting the typographical, &c. errours, yet several have escaped the author's notice, which he intends (Deo volente) to amend in the next edition. * Two stupid and malevolent poets in the age of Augustus, who attacked the superiour talents of the cotemporary wri=> terg, Virgil. FINIS, CONTENTS. Page Preface, - 3 Introduction, - - - - - - 13 Remarks on Education, Parents, Instructors, &c. Chapter 1, ... 25 Chapter 2, . _ - - 35 Chapter 3, 43 Chapter 4, 58 Chapter -5, .. - . 65 Chapter 6, 75 Chapter 7, - - - _ 81 On the evil tendency of theatrical exhibitions at school, - 84 On the study of the Latin and Greek Languages, 106 On Female Education, - - - - 123 On Scholastic Examinations, - - 133 On recommending men as Teachers, - - 141 The history of a Quack Pedagogue, - - 149 Exhibition of a Tragedy by Scholars, - - 161 The wonderful Orator and Logician, - • 173 To Mentius, Sec. ----- 184 Library of Congress Branch Bindery, 1902