A Collection of Essays and Fugitiv Writings

This, Sir, you must suppose, distressed me greatly; I viewed myself injured and trifled with, but knew not how to obtain redress. My attachment and pride were so great that I would not allow my friends to call him to an account for his behavior; tho I now despise his conduct, and would refuse him the hand of which he has proved himself unworthy, still I feel hurt at the treatment I have received. You, Sir, as a friend to our sex, and one who wishes to preserve the peace of mind of unsuspecting girls, will do them an essential service, by your animadversions on these facts, and guarding our sex from similar impositions.

These circumstances would not have been related, were I not rendered discontented and wretched at home, in consequence of refusing the offers of three other gentlemen; either of whom would doubtless have been acceptable, had not my affections been preengaged to one who has proved himself worthless. Their characters and situations in life are equal to my wishes; but I cannot do them so much injustice and myself so much injury, as to giv my hand unaccompanied with my heart. In consulting my own inclinations I have incurred the displeasure of all my family; they treat me with great inattention, and are continually reflecting on my want of spirit and resolution. I am confident, Sir, that every generous mind will pity your unhappy and distressed friend,

CONSTANTIA.

To CONSTANTIA

While I acknowlege myself honored by your correspondence, and happy in an opportunity of rendering you or your sex the least service, permit me, in compliance with your request, which shall be to me a sacred law, to offer my sentiments with a frankness, corresponding with that which marks the relation of your misfortunes. For altho I feel the warmest indignation at every species of deception, and particularly at that long continued inexplicitness which is deliberate deception, and which is the cause of your wretchedness, candor and truth require that censure should fall where it is due.

If the slightest blame can fall on you, it is that you indulged the visits of a gentleman for eighteen months without an explicit and honorable declaration of his intention. A delicate, affectionate and respectful attention to a lady, for one quarter of that period, is sufficient to make an impression on her mind, and decide her choice: At the same time, it might not render an attachment on her part, so strong as to make a separation very painful; it might not giv the world an opinion that an engagement exists, or subject the lady to the necessity of dismissing other suitors. It is therefore prudent at least for a lady to conduct herself in such a manner as to bring her admirer to an explicit declaration of his designs. A man of real honor and principle would not wait for a stratagem on the part of the lady, or for a frank demand of an explanation of his conduct. A tolerable acquaintance with the human heart would enable him to discover when a declaration would be agreeable to the lady, and after this discovery, he would not keep her a moment in suspense. A man of generous feelings, who has a lively attachment, looks with anxiety for some proof that his addresses are agreeable, and that a declaration of his intentions will be well received. No sooner does he find this proof, than he hastens to unbosom himself to the dear object of his wishes, and communicate the happiness he so ardently desires to receive. When therefore a man neglects such a declaration, after he has had convincing proofs that his offers would be well received, it may and should be taken for granted that his intentions are not honorable, and the lady should treat him accordingly. If therefore, my unhappy friend, you deserve the least degree of censure, it is because you delayed too long to take measures for undeceiving yourself. Yet this delay is a proof of your unsuspecting confidence and sincere attachment; and faults, proceeding from such amiable causes, are almost changed to virtues; in your sex, they entitle the sufferer to forgivness and to love.

You inform me, Constantia, that the man who has injured you, professed to adhere to the rules of honor. Never, Constantia, trust a man who deals largely in that hackneyed virtue, honor. Honor, in the fashionable sense of the word, is but another name for villany. The man of honor would not be guilty of the least impropriety in public company; he would not for the world neglect the least punctilio of the customary etiquette, but he would, without hesitation or remorse, blow out the brains of a friend, for treading on his toe, or rob an amiable woman of her reputation and happiness to gratify his vanity.

If a man talks too much of his honor, he is to be avoided, like the midnight ruffian. He that really possesses a virtue never boasts of it, for he does not suspect the world think him destitute of it. Numerous professions are commonly mere substitutes for what is professed.

The man, who has given you so much uneasiness, never deserved the confidence he won; he must be destitute of principle, of virtue, and of attachment to you. His deliberate ill usage proves him to be callous to every tender emotion, and to deserve your contempt. Will not a generous pride and detestation expel the least sentiment of respect for him from your breast? Can you not forget that you have been misled, and will not your innocence buoy you above misfortunes? That you have refused good offers, is to be regretted; but your friends, if they know the reason, as they ought, will not pain you by disingenuous reflections. On the other hand, they will assist you in finding objects to amuse you and dissipate your own melancholy reflections. Smile away the anxiety that shuts your heart against other impressions. Base as men are, there may be some found who despise the character of him who has given even an hour's pain; there may be one who knows your worth, and may be disposed to reward your constancy.

It is a mortifying reflection to an honest mind, that bad hearts are so often suffered to giv pain to the good; that the trifling and the base of our sex are not constrained, by necessity, to associate only with the trifling and the base of yours, and that the good, the generous and the constant should be exposed to the abuses of the fickle and designing. But such is the constitution of society, and for the evils of it, we have no remedy, but cautious circumspection to prevent, or patient fortitude to support the adverse events of our conditions.

No man can entertain a more cordial detestation of the smallest disposition to annoy the peace of mind and disturb the tranquillity of mankind, than myself; the design of existence here is to sooth the evils, and multiply the felicities of each other, and he must be a villain indeed, who can deliberately attempt to poison the sources of pleasure, by crossing and disappointing the social passions.

To your sex, Constantia, permit me to giv a word of caution; never to make any inquiries about a man's family, fortune or accomplishments, till you know whether he is a man of principle. By principle, I mean, a disposition of heart to conduct with strict propriety, both as a moral being and as a member of civil society; that is, a disposition to increase the happiness of all around him. If he appears to wish for his own gratification, at the expense even of a servant's happiness, he is an unsocial being, he is not a fit associate for men, much less for amiable women. If he is a man of principle, then proceed to inquire into his standing in life. With principle he may make a woman happy in almost any circumstances; without it, birth, fortune and education serve but to render his worthlessness the more conspicuous. With sentiments of esteem, I am your obliged friend, and humble servant,

E.

No. XXII

 NEW YORK, JULY, 1788.

A LETTER to the AUTHOR, with REMARKS

sir,

I beg leave to relate to you a few circumstances respecting the conduct of a young friend of mine in this city, and to request your own remarks and advice on the occasion. Should any other person similarly situated, be disposed to receive benefit from the advice, I shall be much gratified, and my design more than answered.

This young friend to whom I allude, has been till within a few years, under the watchful eyes of very attentiv parents; from whom he received much better advice and much more of it, than the generality of parents in this city are wont to bestow on their children; they taught him to regard truth with a steady attachment; in short his education, till their deaths, was such as might with propriety have been called rigidly virtuous. Since that instructiv period, he has been under the guidance of no one but himself; his former associates with whom he grew up, and for whom he still feels a degree of schoolmate attachment, are almost universally debauched characters. The force of example is great, and let it be mentioned to his honor, that in general he has had sufficient virtue to resist their importunities, and to follow a line of conduct directly contrary to the one they would gladly have marked out for his pursuance. He possesses many of the social virtues, and is warmly attached to the amiable part of the female world. This attachment has preserved him from the fashionable vices of the age, and given him a relish for domestic happiness, which I think he will never lose. A young gentleman so capable of making himself agreeable to good and virtuous characters, ought not, in my opinion, to indulge himself in any practices, that shall tend in the least to depreciate his general merit. The practices I would mention, are few and not very considerable; still I think he should dismiss them entirely, or at least not indulge them to his disadvantage. He sings a good song, and he knows it tolerably well; he is often urged into company on that account; he can make himself agreeable withal, and is really a musical companion; he pays so much attention to learning and singing songs, that he has but little leisure time on his hands; he reads part of the day, but he reads principally novels or song books. I would not be understood to consider singing songs as criminal; far from it; I am often delighted with a song from him; but the query with me is, whether he ought not to devote part of the time which he now employs about what may be called genteel trifling, to the improvement of his mind in a manner that may be of lasting benefit to him; I wish you to giv him your advice, and direct him what books to read. He has another fault, which, altho it originates in the benevolence of his disposition, may still be called a fault. He has a very susceptible heart, and opens it with a generous freedom, so much so that he sometimes forgets himself, and opens it where he ought not to do. A stranger with a specious outside might easily impose on him. I just throw out these hints, that he may be on his guard against those whose business it is to deceive. There are several smaller faults dependant upon, or rather consequent to, those I have mentioned, which I at first intended to have enumerated, but if the first are amended, the others will forsake him of course.

The ANSWER

sir,

By the description you have given of your young friend, it appears that he is rather trifling and inconsiderate than profligate. His faults are, his spending too much time in learning and singing songs; and too much frankness of heart, which exposes him to impositions. But you have not, Sir, informed me whether he was bred to business; and by his character, I judge that he was not. He has had good precepts indeed; but of how little weight are precepts to young people! Advice to the young sometimes does good; but perhaps never, except good habits have been previously formed by correct discipline in manners, or by a mechanical attention to honest employments. The truth is, advice or serious council is commonly lavished where it does no good, upon the young, the gay, the thoughtless; whose passions are strong, before reason begins to have the smallest influence. I am young myself, but from the observations I have hitherto made, I venture to affirm, that grave advice never yet conquered a passion, and rarely has restrained one so as to render a sprightly youth, in any degree serious. How should it? Instructions are transient; they seldom touch the heart, and they generally oppose passions that are vigorous, and which are incessantly urging for indulgence.

I have ever thought that advice to the young, unaccompanied by the routine of honest employments, is like an attempt to make a shrub grow in a certain direction, by blowing it with a bellows. The way to regulate the growth of a vegetable is to confine it to the proposed direction. The only effectual method perhaps is to keep young persons from childhood busy in some employment of use and reputation. It is very immaterial what that employment is; the mind will grow in the direction given it at first; it will bend and attach itself to the business, and will not easily lose that bent or attachment afterwards: The mind will attach itself to something; its natural disposition is to pleasure and amusement. This disposition may be changed or overcome by keeping the mind, from early life, busy in some useful occupation, and perhaps by nothing else. Advice will not produce the effect.

I suspect, Sir, that your young friend has been bred a trifler; that he has had money to support him without the labor of acquiring it; that he has never been anxious about his future subsistence. If so, his education must be pronounced erroneous. Whether worth twenty pounds or twenty thousand, it should make no difference in his attention to business while young. We are the creatures of habit; a habit of acquiring property should always precede the use of it, otherwise it will not be used with credit and advantage. Besides, business is almost the only security we have for moral rectitude and for consequence in society. It keeps a young person out of vicious company; it operates as a constant check upon the passions, and while it does not destroy them, it restrains their intemperance; it strengthens the mind by exercise, and puts a young person upon exerting his reasoning faculties. In short, a man bred to business loves society, and feels the importance of the principles that support it. On the other hand, mankind respect him; and whatever your young friend may think of the assertion, it is true that the ladies uniformly despise a man who is always dangling at their apron strings, and whose principal excellence consists in singing a good song.

If, Sir, your friend is still so young, as to undergo the discipline of a professional or other employment, his habits of trifling may be changed by this means; but if he is so far the gentleman as to disdain business, his friends have only to whistle advice in his ears, and wait till old age, experience, and the death of his passions, shall change the man.

Accept of my thanks, Sir, for this communication, and be assured that my opinion on any subject of this kind will always be at your service.

E.

No. XXIII

 BOSTON, MARCH, 1789.

An Enquiry into the Origin of the Words DOMESDAY, PARISH, PARLIAMENT, PEER, BARON; with Remarks, New and Interesting

In the course of my etymological investigations, I hav been led to suspect that all the writers on the laws and constitution of England, hav mistaken the origin and primitiv signification of several words of high antiquity, and in consequence of the mistake, hav adopted some erroneous opinions, respecting the history of parliaments and trial by peers. Whether my own opinions are wel supported by history and etymology, must be hereafter decided by able and impartial judges of this subject.

Dome book, or domesday book, iz a word wel understood by English lawyers. Dome book, or dom bec, az it waz formerly spelt, waz the name given to the Saxon code of laws compiled by Alfred. Some other codes of local customs or laws were also denominated dom becs, but theze are all lost. After the conquest, a general survey of all the lands in England, except a few counties, waz made by order of William, and recorded in a volum which iz stil extant, and called domesday. This survey waz begun by five justices assigned for the purpose in each county, in the year 1081 and completed 1086.

Our pious ancestors were not a little frightened at the name of this book, which iz usually pronounced doomsday; supposing it to hav some reference to the final doom, or day of judgement. In order to quiet such apprehensions, lawyers of less credulity undertook to refute the common opinion. Jacob, after Cowel, very gravely asserts, that the termination day in this word does not allude to the general judgement. "The addition of day to this dome book, waz not ment with any allusion to the final day of judgement, az most persons hav conceeved, but waz to strengthen and confirm it, and signifieth the judicial decisiv record, or book of dooming judgement and justice."67 The same author defines domesmen to be judges, or men appointed to doom.

Cowel, a compiler of considerable authority, says, "day or dey," (for dey iz the true spelling) "does not augment the sense, but only doubles and confirms the same meening. It does not, in this composition, really signify the mesure of time, but the administration of justice; so that domesday iz more emphatically the judicial decisiv record, the book of dooming judgement."68 According to this author, then, domesday iz a judgement of judgements, for he quotes Dr. Hammond to proov that day, dies, ημερα, in all idioms, signifies judgement. However tru this may be, I beleev our Saxon forefathers could find a better name for a code of laws, than a judgement of judgements.

"Domesday," says Coke, "dies judicii," day of judgement.69 Such is the influence of sounds upon credulous, superstitious minds.

The truth seems to be this; domesday is a compound of dom, judgement, decree or authority; and dey, a law or rule.70 Or domes, in the plural, may signify judges. The name of the book then will signify, ether the rules of judging, or deciding, in questions relating to the real property of England; or what is more probable, the rules and determinations of the judges who surveyed the lands in the kingdom.

That dom had the signification here explained iz capable of proof. The homager's oath, in the black book of Hereford, fol. 46, ends thus, "So helpe me God at his holy dome (judgement) and by my trowthe," (troth, that is truth.)71 This explanation coincides with the meening of the same syllable in other languages, and confirms the hypothesis of the common origin of the languages of Europe, laid down in the Notes to my Dissertations on the English Tung. We see the syllable in the Greek δαμαω, the Latin dominus, (domo) and in the English word tame; az also in doom, deem, king dom.72 In all theze words we observe one primitiv and several derivativ significations. Its primitiv sense is that of power or authority, az in Greek and Latin. In English, it stands for jurisdiction, a judge, or a sentence. In deem, it denotes the act of the mind in judging, or forming its determinations.

The other syllable dey iz probably the same word az ley, law, with a different prepositiv article; for etymologists tel us, that the radical syllable waz often found in the muther tung ey. Cowel informs us it waz not day, but dey; and another author writes it d'ey. The word daysman, or az it ought to be spelt deysman, stil used both in England and America, is composed of dey and man, and signifies an arbitrator or judge, appointed to reconcile differences. In this country I hav often heerd it applied to our Savior, az mediator between God and man.

The ancient lawyers translate the Saxon dom bec and domesdey by liber judicialis; words which seem not to convey the ful meening of the original. I should translate them, liber judicum, the Judges book; or lex judicum, the Judges law or rule.

The old Saxon word ley, before mentioned, waz, in different dialects, or at different periods, written ley, lah, lage, laga. It iz doubtless from the same root az the Latin lex, lege; and it is remarkable, that the same word anciently signified peeple; and from this are derived lay and laity, the peeple as opposed to the clergy.73 It iz probable that the primitiv sense of the word, in remote antiquity, waz people; and az the peeple made the laws in general assembly, so their orders or decrees came to be called by the same name. This conjecture iz not groundless, and is no trifling proof of the ancient freedom of our Gothic ancestors. Tacitus says expressly of the Germans, "De minoribus rebus principes consultant; de majoribus omnes." De Mor Germ. 11. The princes deliberate upon small matters, or perhaps decide private controverses of small moment; but laws of general concern are enacted in an assembly of all the peeple.

The origin of Parishes haz puzzled all the lawyers and antiquaries of the English nation. Johnson, after his usual manner, recurs to the Greek, and derives the word from παροικια, accolarum conventus, an assemblage or collection of peeple in a naborhood. Others content themselves with deriving it from the Latin parochia or French paroisse. These etymologies do not satisfy me. It is improbable that our ancestors went to the Greek for names of places or divisions of territory, that existed in England az erly az the Heptarchy; especially az the Greek word before mentioned waz never used in the sense of parish. Parochia cannot be the origin of parish; for it waz not a Roman word; on the other hand, it is merely a Gothic or Saxon word latinized by the erly writers on law; and to derive parish from the French paroisse is trifling; for we might as well derive paroisse from parish, which iz at leest az ancient.

"It iz uncertain at what time England waz divided into parishes," say most of the law writers. Camden, in hiz Britannia, page 104, says, the kingdom waz first divided into parishes by Honorius, archbishop of Canterbury, in 636. This opinion iz controverted. Sir Henry Hobart thinks parishes were erected by the council of Lateran, in 1179. Selden, followed by Blackstone, supposes both to be rong, and shows that the clergy lived in common, without any distinction of parishes, long after the time mentioned by Camden; and it appeers by the Saxon laws, that parishes were known long before the council of Lateran.74

The truth probably iz, the kingdom was not divided into parishes at any one time, but the original ecclesiastical division grew, in a great measure, out of a prior civil division. Parish iz the most ancient division of the ecclesiastical state, and originally denoted the jurisdiction of a bishop, or what iz now called a diocese. For this opinion, we hav the authority of the Saxon laws and charters. "Ego Cealwulfus, dei gratia rex Merciorum, rogatus a Werfritho, Episcopo Hwicciorum, istam libertatem donavi, ut tota parochia Hwicciorum a pastu equorum, regis et eorum qui eos ducunt, libera sit, &c." Charta Cealwulfi regis, Anno 872. "Episcopus, congregatis omnibus clericis totius parochiæ, &c." in a passage quoted by Cowel tit. parish. Here the bishoprick iz explicitly called a parish, parochia; and Blackstone remarks, "it is agreed on all hands, that in the erly ages of christianity in this island, parishes were unknown, or at leest signified the same az a diocese does now." Com. Vol. I. 112.