Silence Dogood Essay No. 4 — The Temple of Learning

What does a 16-year-old writing under a fake name have to say about college education — and why does it still sting? In 1722, Benjamin Franklin's fictional widow Silence Dogood took aim at Harvard and the parents who sent unprepared students there, not for wisdom, but for status. Through a vivid dream sequence, Dogood walks listeners into the "Temple of Learning" — and what she finds there is more farce than philosophy. Tune in as we unpack Franklin's sharp wit and surprisingly modern critique of higher education.

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Transcript

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Hi there, Kelly Cody Grimm again with another essay, essay four, of the Silence Do Good series, written by Benjamin Franklin. Just a little background on these essays if you're not familiar. What these were were essays that a 16-year-old Benjamin Franklin wrote in 1722, because his brother James, who ran the New England Current, was not publishing anything that he wrote. So he came up with an ultra-ego of Silence Dogood, who was a middle-aged widow, and she would comment on society and education in New England. So in this particular essay, essay four, which was also a letter to the editor, Ben Franklin turns his attention to social ambition and the pursuit of status in colonial Boston, especially when it comes to marriage, manners, and reputation. And through the voice of his fictional widow, Franklin gently and sometimes not so gently mocks pretension. Silence observes how quickly people chase appearances polish in public approval. Sound familiar? At the expense of sincerity and substance. It's witty, it's pointed, and it proves that even at sixteen, Franklin understood something timeless. Society loves performance. So from the bustling streets of eighteenth century Boston, we take you to Silence Dogood. May 14, 1722, to the author of the New England Current Sir, discoursing the other day at dinner with my Reverend Barder, formerly mentioned, whom for distinction's sake we will call by the name of Clericus, concerning the education of children, I asked his advice about my young son William, whether or no I had best bestow upon him academical learning, or, as our phrase is, bring him up at our college. He persuaded me to do it by all means, using many weighty arguments with me and answering all the objections that I could form against it, telling me, withal, that he did not doubt that by the lad would take his learning very well, and not idle away his time as too many there nowadays do. Those words of Clericus gave me a curiosity to inquire a little bit more strictly into the present circumstances of that famous seminary of learning. But the information which he gave me was neither pleasant nor such as I expected. As soon as dinner was over, I took a solitary walk into my orchard, still ruminating on Clericus' discourse with much consideration, until I came to my usual place of retirement under the great apple tree, where, having seated myself, and carelessly laid my head on a verdant bag, I fell by degrees into a soft and undisturbed slumber. My waking thoughts remained with me in my sleep, and before I awakened again, I dreamt the following dream. I fancied I was travelling over pleasant and delightful fields and meadows, and the many small country towns and villages, and as I passed along all places resounded with the fame of the temple of learning. Every peasant who had wherewithal was preparing to send one of his children at least to this famous place, and in this case most of them consulted their own purses instead of their children's capacities, so that I observed a great many, yea, the most part of those who were travelling thither, were little better than dancers and blockheads. Alas. At length I entered upon a spacious plain, in the midst of which was erected a large and stately edifice. It was to this that a great company of youths from all parts of the country were going. So stepping in among the crowd, I passed on with all of them, and pleasantly arrived at the gate. The passage was kept by two sturdy porters, named Riches and Poverty, and later ostensibly refused to give entrance to any who had not first gained the favour of the former, so that I observed many who came, even to the very gate, were obliged to travel back again as ignorant as they came, for want of this necessary qualification. However, as a spectator, I gained admittance, and, with the rest, entered directly into the temple. In the middle of the great hall stood a stately and magnificent throne, which was ascended to by two high and difficult steps. On the top of it sat Lernin in an awful state. She was appareled wholly in black and surrounded almost on every side with innumerable volumes in all languages. She seemed to be busily employed in writing something on half a sheet of paper, and upon inquiry I understood that she was preparing a paper called The New England Current. On her right hand sat English, with a pleasant smiling countenance, and handsomely attired, and on her left were seated several antique figures with their faces veiled. I was considerably puzzled to guess who they were, until one informed me, who stood beside me, that these figures on her left hand were Latin, Greek, Hebrew, etc., and that they were very much reserved and seldom or never unveiled their faces here, and then to few or none, though most of those who have in this place acquired so much learning as to distinguish them from English, pretended to imitate acquaintance with them. I then inquired of him what could be the reason why they continued valid in this place especially. He pointed to the foot of the throne, where I saw idleness, attended with ignorance, and these, he informed me, were they, who'd first veiled them and kept them so. Now I observed that the whole tribe who entered the temple with me began to climb the throne, but the work, proving troublesome and difficult to most of them, they withdrew their hands from the plough, and contented themselves to sit at the foot with Madame Idleness and her maid ignorance, until those who were assisted by diligence and a doceable temper, had well nigh got up to the first step. But the time drawing nigh, in which they could no way avoid ascending, they were fain to crave the assistance of those who had got up before them, and who, for the reward perhaps, of a pint of milk or a piece of plum cake, lent to the lovers a helping hand and sat them in the eye of the world upon a level with themselves. The other step being in the same manner ascended, and the usual ceremonies at the end every beetle skull seemed well satisfied with his own portion of learning, though perhaps he was in just as ignorant as ever. And now the time of their departure being come, they marched out of the doors to make room for another company, who waited for entrance, and I, having seen all that was to be seen, quitted the hall likewise, and went to make my observation on those who had just got out before me. Some I perceived took to merchandising, others to travelling, some to one thing, some to the other, and some to nothing, and many of them, from henceforth, for want of patrimony, lived as poor as church mice, being unable to dig and ashamed to beg, and to live by their wits as it was impossible. But the most part of the crowd went along a large beaten path, which led to a temple at the further end of the plain called the Temple of Theology. The business of those who were employed in this temple being laborous and painful, I wanted exceedingly to see so many go towards it, but while I was pondering this matter in my mind I spied Pisinia behind the curtain, beckoning to them with her hand, which slight immediately satisfied me for whose sake it was, that great part of them, and I will not say all, travelled that road. In this temple I saw nothing worth mentioning except the ambitious and fraudulent contrivances of Plagiaris, who, notwithstanding he had been severely reprehended for such practices before, was diligently transcribing some eloquent paragraphs out of Terenson's works, so to embellish his own. Now I bethought myself in my sleep that it was time to be at home, and as I fancied I was travelling back thither I reflected in my mind to the extreme folly of those parents, who, blind to their children's dullness, and insensible of the solidarity of their skills, because they think their purses can afford it, will need send them to the temple of Lanin, where, for want of a suitable genius, they learn little more than how to carry themselves handsomely and enter a room genteely, which might as well be acquired at a dance school, from which hence they return after abundance of trouble and charge, as great blockheads as ever, only more proud and self conceited. While I was in the midst of these unpleasant reflections, Clericus, who, with a book in hand, was walking under the trees, accidentally awakened me. To him I related my dream with all its particulars, and he, without much study, presently interpreting it, assuring me that it was a lively representation of Harvard College, etc. I remain your humble servant Silence Do Good. Thank you again for listening, and one good discussion question to look at is how much of social success is based on appearance? Has that changed or has it just moved online? And I think we can look at the influence of influencers. Some might say back in her day in Boston, Silence Doogood might have been an influencer. But thank you again for listening. If you'd like to learn more about both our literary summit and spectral summit series, you can go to our website, spectral-summit.com. And there we have information about upcoming literary episodes by Edgar Allan Poe and O. Henry. We'll also be looking at the Federalist Papers, our historic podcast, which takes a 16-year-old high school newspaper reporter who can see and talk to spirits. She is able to go into museums and she asks tough questions of presidents like President Harding, FDR, Eleanor Roosevelt, Florence Harding. We've got some upcoming episodes where the first ladies spill the tea, and she even gets to talk to the Lincolns and the Booth family. So thank you again for joining us, and we look forward to seeing you next time.