The following is the conclusion of the review. “'Tis a good observation that the author, who in his book exhorted men to marry, says not a word to persuade virgins to the same. He well foresaw that this silence would surprise some of his readers—therefore he has put them out of pain in the preface, by acquainting them that virgins are sufficiently convinced of the necessity of marriage, therefore want no exhortations thereto; 'tis certain, says he, that though a virgin never proposes marriage, because of her modesty, there is nothing she so passionately wishes for; her heart often gives her mouth the lie; she often says I will not, when sometimes she dies for desire.”
My limits will not permit my quoting from any other reviews in the work, though much instructive and entertaining matter might be culled therefrom. I must, however, give a few specimens of the Alphabetical Table at the end of the work, which will give us some idea of the questions which “the wisdom of our ancestors” was occupied with:
Adam and Eve, whether they had navels?
Apprentice, whether loses his gentility?
Angels, why painted in petticoats?
Adam and Eve, where had they needles?
Ark, what became of it after the flood?
Babel Tower, &c. what was the height of it?
Bugs, why bite one more than another?
Born with Cawls, what signifies it?
Brothers born two in one, had they two souls?
Balaam a Moabite, how could he understand his Ass?
Clergy's Wives and Children, why unhappy?
Females, if went a courting more marriages than now?
Hairs, an equal number on any two men's head?
Husband, whether lawful to pray for one?
Kings of England, can they cure the evil?
Lion, whether it won't prey upon a virgin?
Mermen and Mermaids, have they reason?
Marriage of a young man and an old woman wholesome?
Marry, which best a good temper or a shrew?
Negroes, shall they rise so at the last day?
Phœnix, why but one?
Peter and Paul, did they use notes?
Queen of Sheba, had she a child by Solomon?
Queen of Sheba, if now alive, whither she?
Salamander, whether it lives in the fire?
Swoon, where is the soul then?
Wife, whether she may beat her husband?
Women, if mere machines?
Women, whether not bantered into a belief of being angels?
Women, whether they have souls?
Women, when bad, why worse than men?
Here is a volume of Almanacs—poor Richard's Almanacs, published by Dr. Franklin for so many years, and enriched with his moral and economical maxims. Many of the prefaces are amusing, and I shall give you three or four. Here is that to the Almanac for 1744.
“Courteous Reader—This is the twelfth year that I have in this way labored for the benefit—of whom?—of the public, if you'll be so good natured as to believe it; if not, e'en take the naked truth—'twas for the benefit of my own dear self—not forgetting in the meantime our gracious consort and dutchess, the peaceful, quiet, silent lady Bridget. But whether my labors have been of any service to the publick or not, the publick I acknowledge has been of service to me. I have lived comfortably by its benevolent encouragement, and I hope I shall always bear a grateful sense of its continued favor.
“My adversary, J——n J——n, has indeed made an attempt to outshine me by pretending to penetrate a year deeper into futurity, and giving his readers gratis in his Almanack for 1743, an eclipse of the year 1744, to be beforehand with me. His words are, ‘The first day of April next year, 1744, there will be a GREAT ECLIPSE of the sun; it begins about an hour before sunset. It being in the sign Aries, the House of Mars, and in the Seventh, shows heat, difference, and animosities between persons of the highest rank and quality,’ &c. I am very glad, for the sake of those persons of rank and quality, that there is no manner of truth in this prediction: they may, if they please, live in love and peace; and I caution his readers (they are but few indeed, and so the matter's the less) not to give themselves any trouble about observing this imaginary great eclipse; for they may stare till they are blind without seeing the least sign of it. I might on this occasion return Mr. J——n the name of Baal's false prophet he gave me some years ago in his wrath, on account of my predicting his reconciliation with the Church of Rome, (though he seems now to have given up that point) but I think such language between old men and scholars unbecoming; and I leave him to settle the affair with the buyers of his Almanack as well as he can, who perhaps will not take it very kindly that he has done what in him lay, (by sending them out to gaze at an invisible eclipse on the first of April) to make April fools of them all. His old threadbare excuse, which he repeats year after year about the weather, ‘that no man can be infallible therein, by reason of the many contrary causes happening at or near the same time, and the unconstancy of the summer showers and gusts,’ &c. will hardly serve him in the affair of eclipses, and I know not where he'll get another.
“I have made no alteration in my usual method, except adding the rising and setting of the planets, and the lunar conjunctions. Those who are so disposed, may thereby very readily learn to know the planets and distinguish them from each other.
“I am, dear reader, thy obliged friend,
R. SAUNDERS.”
The Almanack for 1746 opens with the following poetical preface.
Who is poor Richard? people oft inquire
Where lives? what is he—never yet the higher.
Somewhat to ease your curiositie
Take these slight sketches of my dame and me.
Thanks to kind readers and a careful wife,
With plenty blessed I lead an easy life;
My business writing; hers to drain the mead
Or crown the barren hill with useful shade;
In the smooth glebe to see the ploughshare worn
And fill my granary with needful corn;
Press nectarous cider from my loaded trees,
Print the sweet butter, turn the drying cheese.
Some books we read, though few there are that hit
The happy point where wisdom joins with wit,
That set fair virtue naked to our view
And teach us what is decent, what is true.
The friend sincere and honest man with joy,
Treating or treated oft our time employ.
Our table neat, meal temperate, and our door
Opening spontaneous to the bashful poor.
Free from the bitter rage of party zeal
All those we love who seek the public weal,
Nor blindly follow Superstition's lore,
Which cheats deluded mankind o'er and o'er.
Not over righteous, quite beyond the rule,
Conscience-perplexed by every canting tool,
Nor yet where folly hides the dubious line,
Where good and bad their blended colors join,
Rush indiscreetly down the dangerous steep,
And plunge uncertain in the darksome deep.
Cautious if right; if wrong, resolved to part
The innate snake that folds around the heart;
Observe the mean, the motive and the end,
Mending ourselves or striving still to mend.
Our souls sincere, our purpose fair and free
Without vain-glory or hypocrisy:
Thankful if well, if ill we kiss the rod,
Resign with hope and put our trust in God.