.•J^ -^" t ^^ /vOn^ -r _c-s^<^c^ o *-.,/7<^2^ '^'S^^^^0i^i^ii^f^^^ Bk:^X FMAW'KI.IE'.l.A Ji. THE ORKS OF THE LATE DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN CONSISTING OP HIS WRJTTEJV BY HIMSELF. TOGETHER WITH HUMOUROUS, MORAI., AND LITERARY ESSAYS, CHIEFLY IJV THE MAXJSTER OF THE SPECTATOR. AMOaia WHICH ABE SEVERAL NOT IN ANT AMEllICAN EDITION. PHILJIDELPHM: " PUBLISHED BY SOLOMON WIATE, 1815. A. GRIGGS 6? K. DICKINSON, — PHINTEHS, WHITEHALL. 16908 PREFACE THE volume that is here presented to the Public, consists of two parts ; the Life of Dr. Franklin; and a collection of Miscellaneous Essays, the work of that Author. It is already known to many, that Dr. Frank- lin amused himself, towards the close of his life, with writing memoirs of his own history. These memoirs were brought down to the year 1757. Together with some other manuscripts they were left behind him at his death, and were considered as a part of his posthumous property. It is a little extraordinary that, un- der these circumstances, interesting as they are, from the celebrity of the character of which they treat, and from the critical situation of the present times, they should so long have been with-held from the Public. A translation of them appeared in France near two years ago, coming down to the year 1731. There can be no sufficient reason, that what has been submit- ted to the perusal of Europe, should not be made accessible to those to whom Dr. Frank- lin's language is native. The first part of the history of his life is translated from that pub= lication. A 2 O PREFACE The style of these memoirs is uncommonly pleasing. The story is told with the most un- reserved sincerity, and without any false co- louring or ornament. We see, in every page, that the author examined his subjects with the eye of a master, and related no incidents, the springs and origin of which he did not perfectly understand. It is this that gives such exquisite and uncommon perspicuity to the detail and de- light in the review. The translator has endea- voured, as he went along, to conceive the pro- bable manner in which Dr. Franklin expressed his ideas in his English manuscript, and he hopes to be forgiven if this enquiry shall occa- sionally have subjected him to the charge of a style in any respect bald or low ; to imitate the admirable simplicity of the author, is no easy task. The Essays, which are now for the first time, brought together from various resources, will be found to be more miscellaneous than any of Dr. Franklin's that have formerly been collected, and will therefore be more generally amusing. Dr. Franklin tells us, in his Life, that he was an assiduous imitator of Addison; and from some of these papers it will be admitted he was not an unhappy one. The public will be amused with following a great philosopher in his relaxation, and observe in what respects philosophy tends to elucidate and improve the most common subject. The editor has purpose- ly avoided such papers, as by their scientifical PREFACE. 7 nature, were less^apted for general perusal. These he may probably hereafter publish in a volume by themselves. He subjoins a letter from the late celebrated and amiable Dr. Price, to a gentleman in Phi- ladelphia, upon the subject of Dr. Franklin's memoirs of his own life. Hackney y June 19, 1790. DEAR SIR, " I am hardly able to tell you how kindly I take the letters with which you favour me. Your last containing an account of the death of our excellent friend, Dr. Franklin, and the circum- stances attending it, deserves my particular gra- titude. The account which he has left of his life will show, in a striking example, how a man by talents, industry, and integrity, may rise from obscurity to the first eminence and consequence in the world ; but it brings his history no lower than the year 1757, and I understand that since he sent over the copy, which I have read, he has been able to make no additions to it. It is with a melancholy regret I think of his death ; but to death we are all bound by the irreversi- ble order of nature ; and in looking forward to it, there is comfort in being able to reflect — that we have not lived in vain, and that all the use- ful and virtuous shall meet in a better country beyond the grave. 8 PREFACE. " Dr. Franklin, in the last letter I received from him, after mentioning his age and infirmi- ties, observes, that it has been kindly ordered by the Author of nature, that, as we draw near- er the conclusion of life, we are furnished with more helps to wean us from it, among which, one of the strongest is the loss of dear friends. I was delighted with the account you gave in your letter of the honours shewn to his memory at Phi- ladelphia, and by Congress; and yesterday I received a high additional pleasure, by being informed that the National Assembly of France had determined to go in mourning for him. — What a glorious scene is opened there ! The annals of the world furnish no parallel to it. One of the honours of our departed friend is, that he has contributed much to it. I am, with great respect. Your obliged and very humble servant, RICHARD PRICE." LIFE OF DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, &c. I MY DE?AR SON, HAVE amused myself with collecting some little anecdotes of my family. You may remember the en- quiries I made, when you were with me in England, among such of my relations as were then living ; and the journey I undertook for that purpose. To be ac- quainted with the particulars of my parentage and life, many of which are unknown to you, I flatter myself, will afford the same pleasure to you as to me. I shall relate them upon paper : it will be an agreeable em- ployment of a week's uninterrupted leisure, which I promise myself during my present retirement in the country. There are also other motives which induce me to the undertaking. From the bosom of poverty and obscurity, in which I drew my first breath and spent my earliest years, I have raised myself to a state of opulence and to some degree of celebrity in the world. A constant good fortune has attended me through every period of life to my present advanced age ; and my descendants may be desirous of learning 10 THE LIFE OF what were the means of which I made use, and which, thanks to the assisting hand of Providence, have proved so eminently successful. They may also, should they ever be placed in a similar situation, derive some advan- tage from my narrative. When I reflect, as I frequently do, upon the felici- ty I have enjoyed, I sometimes say to myself, that, were the offer made me, I would engage to run again, from beginning to end, the same career of life. All I would ask would be the privilege of an author, to correct in a second edition, certain errors of the first. I could wish, likewise, if it were in my power, to change some trivial incidents and events for others more favourable. Were this however denied me, still would I not decline the offer. But since a repetition of life cannot take place, there is nothing which, in my opi- nion, so nearly resembles it, as to call to mind ail its circumstances, and, to render their remembrance more durable, commit them to writing. By thus employing myself, I shall yield to the inclination, so natural to old men, to talk of themselves and their exploits, and may freely follow my bent, without being tiresome to those who, from respect to my age, might think them- selves obliged to listen to me ; as they will be at liber- ty to read me or not as they please. In fine — and I may well avow it, since nobody would believe me were I to deny it— -I shall perhaps, by this employment, gratify my vanity. Scarcely indeed have I ever heard or read the introductory phrase, " / may say without -vanityy^ but some striking and characteristic instance of vanity has immediately followed. The generality of men hate vanity in others, however strongly they may be tinctured with it themselves ; for myself, I pay obeisance to it wherever I meet with it, persuaded that it is advantageous, as well to the individual whom it governs, as to those who are within the sphere of its influence. Of Consequence, it would in many cases, not be wholly absurd, that a man should count his va- nity among the other sweets of life, and give thanks to providence for the blessing. \ 2>R. FRANKLIN. U And here let me with all humility acknowledge, that to divine Providence I am indebted for the felicity I have hitherto enjoyed. It is that power alone which has furnished me with the means I have employed, and that has crowned them with success. My faith in this respect leads me to hope, though I cannot count upon it, that the Divine goodness will still be exercised to- wards me either by prolonging the duration of my happiness to the close of life, or by giving me forti- tude to support any melancholy reverse, which may happen to me, as to so many others. My future for- tune is unknown but to him in whose hand is our des- tiny, and who can make our very afflictions subservient to our benefit. ' One of my uncles, desirous like myself, of collecting anecdotes of our family, gave me some notes, from which I have derived many particulars respecting our ancestors. From these I learn, that they had lived in the same village (Eaton in Northamptonshire) upon a freehold of about thirty acres, for the space at least of three hundred years How long they had resided there prior to that period, my uncle had been unable to dis- cover ; probably ever since the institution of surnamesi when they took the appellation of Franklin, which had formerly been the name of a particular order of indi* viduals.* • As a proof that Franklin was anciently the common name of an order of rank in England, see judge Fortescue, De laudibus le- gum Anglios, written about the year 1412, in which is the following passage to show that good juries might easily be formed in any part of England : •* Regio etiam ilia, ita rcspersa refertaque est possessoribus terrarum et agrorum, quod in ea, villulatam parva reperiri on po- terit, In qua non est miles, armiger, vel pater familias qualis ibidem Franklin vulgaritur nuncupatur,magnis ditatus possessonihus, nee- non libere, tenentes at alii valecti plurimi, suis patrimoniis sufficien- tes, ad faciendum juratam, in forma praenotata." *• Moreover, the same counti*y is so filled and replenished with ** landed menne, that therein so small athorpe cannot be found 13 THE LIFE OF This petty estate would not have sufficed for their subsistence, had they not added the trade of blacksmith, which was perpetuated in the family down to my uncle's time, the eldest son having been uniformly brought up to this employment : a custom which both he and my father observed with respect to their eldest sons. In the researches I made at Eaton, I found no ac- count of their births, marriages and deaths, earlier than the year 1555 ; the parish register not extend- ing farther back than that period. This register in- formed me, that I was the youngest son of the youngest branch of the family, counting five generations. My grandfather, Thomas, who was born in 1598, living at Eaton till he was too old to continue his trade, when he retired to Banbury in Oxfordshire, where his son John, who was a dyer resided, and with whom my father was apprenticed. He died, and was buried there : we saw his monument in 1758. His eldest son lived in the family house at Eaton, which he bequeath- ed, with the land belonging to it, to his only daugh- ** wherein dwelleth not a knight, an esquire, or such a householder " as is thei-e commonly called a Franklin, enriched with great pos- ** sessions ; and also other freeholders and many yeomen, able for " their livelihoods to make a jury in form aforementioned." Old TRANSiATioir. Chaucer too calls his country gentleman a Franklin, and after describing his good housekeeping, thus characterises him : This worthy Franklin bore a purse of silk, Fix'd to his girdle, white as morning milk. Knight to the shire, first justice to th* assize. To help the poor, the doubtful to advise. In all employments, generous, just he proved, Benown'd for courtesy, by all belov'd. DR. FRANKLlf^. 13 ter ; who, in concert with her husband, Mr. Fisher of Wellinborough, afterwards sold it to Mr. Ested, the pre- sent proprietor. My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thomas, John, Benjamin, and Josias. I shall give you such particulars of them as my memory will furnish, not having my papers here, in which you will find a more minute account, if they are not lost during my ab- sence. Thomas, had learned the trade of a blacksmith under his father; but possessing a good natural understanding, he improved it by study, at the solicitation of a gentle- man by the name of Palmer, who was at that time the principal inhabitant of the village, and who en~ couraged in like manner all my uncles to improve their minds. Thomas thus rendered himself competent to the functions of a country attorney; soon became an essential personage in the affairs of the village; and was one of the chief movers of every public enlerprizc, as weii relative to the country^ as the town of North- ampton. A variety of remarkable incidents were told us of him at Eaton. After enjoying the esteem and patronage of lord Halifax, he died January 6, 1702, precisely four years before I was born. The recital that was made us of his life and character, by some aged persons of the village, struck you, I remember, as extraordinary, from its analogy to what you knew of myself. " Had he died," said you, " just four years later, one might have supposed a transmigration of souls.'* John, to the best of my belief, was brought up to the trade of a wool-dyer. Benjamin served his apprenticeship in London to a silk-dyer. He was an industrious man : 1 remember him well ; for, while I was a child, he joined my fa- ther at Boston, and lived for some years in the house with us. A particular affection had always subsisted between my father and him ; and I was his godson. B 14 THE LITE OF He arrived to a great age. He left behind him two quarto volumes of poems in manuscript, consisting of little fugitive pieces addressed to the friends. He had invented a short-hand, which he taught me, but having never made use of it, I have now forgotten it. He was a man of piety, and a constant attendant on the best preachers, whose sermons he took a pleasure in writing down according to the expeditory method he had devised. Many volumes were thus collected by him. He was also extremely fond of politics, too much so perhaps for his situation. I lately found in London a collection which he had made of all the prin- cipal pamphlets relative to public affairs, from the year 1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, as ap- pears by the series of numbers ; but there still remain eight in folio, and twenty four in quarto and octavo. The collection had fallen into the hands of a second- hand booksellor, who, knowing me by having sold me some books, brought it to me. My uncle it seems, had left it behind him on his departure for America, about fifty years ago. I found various notes of his writing in the margin. His grandson, Samuel is now living at Boston. Our humble family had early embraced the Reforma- tion. They remained faitlifully attached during the reign of queen Mary, when they were in danger of being mo- lested on account of their zeal against popery. They had an English Bible, and, to conceal it the more se- curely, they conceived the prospect of fastening it, open, vv'ith pack-threads across the leaves, on the inside of the lid of a close-stool. When my great-grandfather wish ed to read to his family, he reversed the lid of the close-stool upon his knees, and passed the leaves from one side to the other, which were held down on each by the pack-thread. One of the children was stationed at the door to give notice if he saw the proctor (an officer of the spiritual court) make his appearance : in that case, the lid was restored to its place, with the DR. FRANKLIN. I5 Bible concealed imder it as before. I had this anecdote from my uncle Benjamin. The whole family preserved its attachments to the Church of England till towards the close of the reign of Charles II. when certain ministers, who had been ejected as non-conformists, having held conventicles in North- amptonshire, they were joined by Benjamin and Josias, who adhered to them ever after. The rest of the family continued in the episcopal Church. My father, Josias, married early in life. He went with his wife and three children, to New England about the year 1682. Conventicles being at that time prohi- bited by law, and frequently disturbed, some considera- ble persons of his acquaintance determined to go to America, where they hoped to enjoy the free exercise of their religion, and my father was prevailed on to accompany them. My father had also by the same wife four children born in America, and ten others by a second wife, mak- ing in all seventeen. I remember to have seen thir- teen seated together at his table, who all arrived to years of maturity, and were married. I was the last of the sons, and the youngest child, excepting two daugh- ters. I was born at Boston in New England. My mother the second wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colonists of New England, of whom Cotton Mather makes honourable mention, in his Ecclesiastical History of that province, as " si/iious *' and learned Englishman^*' if I rightly recollect his ex- pressions. I have been told of his having written a varie- ty of little pieces ; but there appears to be only one in print, which I met with many years ago. It was published in the year 1675, and is in familiar verse, agreeable to the taste of the times and the country. The author ad- dresses himself to the governors for the time being, speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favour of the anabaptists, quakers, and other sectaries, who had suf- fered persecution. To this persecution he attributes the wars with the natives, and other calamities which af- flicted the country, regarding them as the judgmentS'-of 16 THE LIFE OF God in punishment of so odious an offenccj and he ex- horts the government to ihe repeal of laws so contrary to charity. The poem appeared to be written with a manjy freedom and a pleasing simplicity. I recollect the six concluding lines, though I have forgotten the order of words of the two first ; the sense of which was, that his censures were dictated by benevolence, and that, of consequence, he wished to be known as the au- thor ; because, said he, I hate from my very soul dissi- mulation : From Sherburne;* where I dwell, I therefore put my name, Your friend who means you well, Peter Folger. My brothers were all put apprentices to different trades. With respect to myself, I was sent, at the age of eight years to a grammar school. My father des- tined me for the church, and already regarded me as the chaplain of the family. The promptitude with which from my infancy 1 had learned to read, for I do not remember to have been ever without this acquire- ment, and the encouragements of his friends, who as- sured him that I should one day certainly become a man of letters, confirmed him in this design. My uncle Benjamin, approved also of the scheme, and promised to give me all his volumes of sermons, written, as I have said, in the short hand of his invention, if I would take the pains to learn it. I remained however scarcely a year at grammar school, although, in this short interval, I had risen from the middle to the head of my class, from thence to the class immediately above, and was to pass at the end of the year, to the one next in order. But my father, burthened with a numerous family, found that he was incapable, without subjecting himself to difficulties, of • Town in the Island of Nantucket. DR. 3?RAKKLIN. ^ 1< providing for ihc expense of a colie^iate education ; and considering besides, as I heard him ssy to his friends, that pel sons so educated were often poorly provided for, he rei>ounced his first intentions, took me from the grammar* school? and sent me to a school for writing and arithmetic, kept by a Mr. George Bromwel, who was a skilful master, and succeeded very well in his pro- fession by employing gentle means only, and such as were calculated to encourage his scholars. Under hiiH I soon acquired an excellent hand ; but I failed in arith- metic, and made therein no sort of progress. ^ At ten years of age> 1 was called home to assist my \ father in his occupation, which was that of soap-boiler and tallow-chandler ; a business to- which he had served no apprenticeship, but which he embraced on his arrival in New England, because he found his own, that of a dyer in two little request to enable him to maintain his family. I was accordingly employed in cutting the wicks, filling the moulds, taking care of the shops, carrying messages, 8cc. This business displeased me, arid I felt a strong in- clination for a sea life ; but my father set his face against it. The vicinity of the water, however, gave me fre- quent opportunities of venturing myself both upon and within it, and I soon acquired the art of swimming, and of managing a boat. — When embarked with other chil- dren, the helm was commonly deputed to me, particu- larly on difficult occasions ; and, hi every other project, I was almost always the leader of the troop, whom I sometimes involved in embarrassments. I shall give an instance of this, which demonstrates an early disposi- tion of mind for public enterprises, though the one in question was not conducted by justice. The mill pond was terminated on one side by a marsh, upon the borders of which we were accustomed to take our stand, at high water, to angle for small fish. By dint of walking, we had converted the place into a per- fe t quagmire. My proposal was to erect a wharf that should afford us firm footing ; and 1 pointed out to my companions a large heap of stones, intended for the build- B 2 18. THE LIFE OF ins^ a new house near the marsh, and which were well adapted for our purpose. Accordingly, when the work- man retired in the evening, I assembled a numbet of my playfellows, and by l^bourin^ diUi:;ently, like ants, some- times four of us uniting our strength to carry a single stone, we removed them all, and constructed our little quay. The workmen were surprised the next morning at not finding their stones, which had been conveyed to our wharf. Inquiries were made respecting the authors of this conveyance; we were discovered; complaints were exhibited against us ; many of us underwent cor- rection on the part of our parents ; and though I strenu- ously defended the utility of the work, my father al length convinced me that nothing which was not strictly honest could be useful. It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you tx) know what sort of a man my father was. He had an ex- cellent constitution, was of a middle size, but well made and strong, and extremely active in whatever he un- dertook. He designed with a degree of neatness, and knew a little of music. His voice was sonorous and agreeable ; so that when Ive sung a psalm or hymn with accompaniment of his violin, as was his frequent practice in an evening when the labours of the day were finished, it was truly delightful to hear him. He was v'ersed also in mechanics, and could upon occa- sion, use the tools of a variety of trades But his greatest excellence v/as a sound understanding and solid judgment in matters of produce, both in public and private life. In the former indeed he never en- gaged, because his numerous family and the medioc- rity of his fortune, kept him unremittingly employed In the duties of his profession. But I very well re- member that the leading men of the place used fre- quently to come and ask his advice respecting affairs of the town, or of the chmxh to which he belonged, and that they paid much deference to his opinion. Indivi- duals were also in the habit of consulting him in their private affairs, and he was often chosen arbiter between contending parties. dh. franklin. \9 He was fond of having at his table, as often as possi- ble, some friends or well informed neighbours capable of rational conversation, and he was always careful to introduce useful or Ingenious topics of discourse, which might tend to form the minds of his children. By this means he early attracted our attention to what was just, prudent, and beneficial in the conduct of life. He ne- ver talked of the meats which appeared upon the ta- ble, never discussed whether they were well or ill dress- ed, of a good or bad flavour, high-seasoned or other- wise, preferable or inferior to this or that dish of a similar kind. Thus accustomed, from my infancy, to the utmost inattention as to those objects, I have al- ways been perfectly regardless of what kind of food was before me ; and I pay so little attention to it even now, that it would be a hard matter for me to recol- lect, a few hours after I had dined, of what my dinner had consisted. When travelling, I have particularly experienced the advantage of this habit ; for it has of- ten happened to me to be in comi>any with persons, who, having a more delicate, because a more exercised taste, have suffered in many cases considerable incon- venience, while, as to myself, I have had nothing to desire. My mother was likewise possessed of an excellent constitution. She suckled all her ten children, and I never heard either her or my father complain of any other disorder than that of which they died : my father at the age of eighty-seven, and my mother at eighty-five. They are buried together at Boston, where, a few years ago, I placed a marble over their gravcy with this inscrip- tion : / *< HEBE LIE <' JosiAS Franklin and Abiah his wife : They lived " together with reciprocal affection for fifty-nine years; '* and without private fortune, without lucrative em- '' ployment, by assidious labour and honest industry, ** decently supported a numerous family, and educa- <* ted with success, thirteen children, and seven grand- ^0 IIIE LIFE OF " children. Let this example, reader, encourage you " dilii^ently to discharge the duties of thy calling, and f to rely on the support of Divine Providence. *• He was pious and prudent, " She discreet and virtuous. " Their youngest son, from a sentiment of fillial duty, '' consecrates this stone " To their memory.'* I perceive, by my rambling digressions, that I am growing old. But we do not dress for a private compa- ^ny as for a formal ball. This deserves perhaps the name of negligence. To return, I thus continued employed in my father's trade for the space of two years ; that is to say, till I arrived at twelve years of age. About this time my brother John, who had served his apprenticeship in London, having quitted my father, and being married and settled in business on his own account at Rhode Island, I was destined, to all appearance, to supply iiis place, and be a candle-maker all my life : but my dis- like of this occupation continuing, my father was ap- prehensive, that, if a more agreeable one were not of- fered me, I might play the truent and escape to sea ; as, to his extreme mortification, my brother Josias had done. He therefore took me sometimes to see masons, coopers, braziers, joiners, and other mechanics, em- ployed at their work ; in order to discover the bent of my inclination, and fix it if he could uj)on some occu- pation that might retain me on shore. I have since, in consequence of these visits, derived no small plea- sure from seeing skilful workmen handle their tools ; and it has proved of considerable benefit, to have ac- quired thereby sufficient knowledge to be able to make little things for myself, when I have had no mechanic DR. FRANKLIN. 21 at hand, and to construct small machines for my experi- ments, while the idea I have conceived has been fresh and strongly impressed on my imagination. My father at length decided that I should be a cut- ler, and I was placed for some days upon trial with my cousin Samuel, son of my uncle Benjamin, who had learned this trade in London, and had established him- self at Boston. But the premium he required for my apprenticeship displeasing my father, I was recalled home. From my earliest years I had been passionately fond of reading, and I laid out in books all the little money I could procure. I was particularly pleased with ac- counts of voyages. My first acquisition was Bunyan*s collection in small separate volumes. These I after- wards sold in order to buy an historical collection by R. Burton, which consisted of small cheap volumes, amounting in all to about forty or fifty. My father's lit- tle library was principally made up of books of practi- cal and polemical theology. I read the greatest part of them. 1 have since often regretted, that at a time when I had so great a thirst for knowledge, more eli- gible books had not fallen into my hands, as it was then a point decided that I should not be educated for the church. There was also among my father's books Plutarch's Lives, in which I read continually, and I still regard as advantageously employed the time I devoted to them. I found besides a work of De Foe, entitled, an Essay, on Projects, from which, perhaps, I derived impressions that have since influenced some of the principal events of my life. My inclination for books at last determined my fa- ther to make me a printer, though he had already a son in that profession. My brother had returned from England, in 1717, with a press and types, in order to establish a printing house at Boston. This business pleased me much better than that of my father, though I had still a predilection for the sea. To prevent the effects which might result from this inclination, my father was impatient to see me engaged with my bro- 23 THE LIFE OF ther. I held back for some time ; at length, however, I suffered myself to be persuaded, and signed my inden- tures, being then only twelve years of age. It was agreed that I should serve as apprentice to the age of twenty-one, and should receive journeyman*3 wages only during the last year. In a very short time I made great proficiency in this business, and became very serviceable to my brother. I had now an opportunity of procuring better books. The acquaintance I necessarily formed with booksellers' apprentices, enabled me to borrow a volume now and then, which I never failed to return punctually and without injury. How often has it happened to me to pass the greater part of the night in reading by my bed-side, when the book had been lent me in the even- ing, and was to be returned the next morning, lest it '^' might be missed or wanted. At length, Mr. Matthew Adams, an ingenious tradesman, who had an handsome collection of books, and who frequented our printing house, took notice of me. He invited me to see his library ; and had the goodness to lend me any books I was desirous of read- ing. I then took a strange fancy for poetry, and com- posed several little pieces. My brother, thinking he might find his account in it, encouraged rne and en- gaged me to write two ballads. One, called the Light- house Tragedy, contained an accomit of the shipwreck of captain Worthilake and his two daughters ; the other was a sailor's song on the capture of the noted pirate, called Teach, or Black-beard. They were wretched verses in point of style, mere blind men's ditties. When printed, he despatched me about the town to sell them : the first had a prodigious run, be- cause the event was recent, and had made a great noise. My vanity was flattered by this success; but my father checked my exultation, by ridiculing my produc- tions, and telling me that versifiers were always poor. I thus escaped the misfortune of being, probably, a very wretched poet. But as the faculty of writing prose DB. FRANKLIN. 23 has been of great service to me in the course of my life, and principally contributed to my advancement, I shall relate by what means situated as 1 was, I acquired the small skill I may possess in that way. There was in the town another young man, a great lover of books, of the name of John Collins, with whom I was intimately connected. We frequently engaged in dispute, and were indeed so fond of argu- mentation, that noihing was so agreeable to us as a war of words. This contentious temper, I would ob- serve by the bye, is in danger of becoming a very bad habit, and frequently renders a man*s company insup- portable, as being no otherwise capable of indulgence than by indiscriminate contradiction. Independently of the acrimony and discord it introduces into conver- sation, it is often productive of dislike, and even ha- tred, between persons to whom friendship is indispensi- bly necessary. I acquired it by reading, while I lived with my father, books of religious controversy. I have since remarked, that men of sense seldom fall into this error ; lawyers, fellows of universities, and persons of every profession educated at Edinburgh, excepted. Collins and I fell one day into an argument relative to the education of women ; namely, whether it were proper to instruct them in the sciences, and whether they were competent to the study. Collins supported the negative, and affirmed that the task was beyond their capacity. I maintained the opposite opinion, a little perhaps for the pleasure of disputing. He was naturally more eloquent than I ; words flowed copious- ly from his lips ; and frequently I thought myself van- quished, more by his volubility than by the force of his arguments. We separated without coming to an agreement upon this point ; and as we were not to see each otheragain for sometime, I committed my thoughts to paper, made a fair copy, and sent it to him. He an- swered, and I replied. Three or four letters had been written by each, when my father chanced to light up- on my papers and read ihem. Without entering into the merits of the cause, he embraced the opportunity 24 THE LIFE Ot of speaking to me upon my manner of writing. He observed that though I had the advantage of my ad- versary in correct spelling and pointing which I owed to my occupation, I was greatly his inferior in ele- gance of expression, in arrangement and perspicuity. Of this he convinced me by several examples. I felt the justice of his remarks, became more attentive to language, and resolved to make every effort to improve my style. Amidst these resolves an odd volume of the Spectator fell into my hands. This was a publication I had never seen. I bought the volume, and read it again and again. I was enchanted with it, thought the style excellent, and wished it were in my power to imitate it; with this view, I selected some of the pa- pers, made short summaries of the sense of each periodf and put them for a few days aside. I then, without looking at thfe book, endeavoured to restore the es- says to their true form, and to express each thought at length, as it was in the original, employing the most appropriate words that occurred to my mind. I after- wards compared my Spectator with the original ; I perceived some faults, which I corrected : but I found that I wanted a fund of words, if I may so express myself, and a facility of recollecting and employing them, which I thought I should by that time have ac- quired, had I continued to make verses. The conti- nual need of words of the same meaning, but of dif- ferent lengths for the measure, or of different sounds for the rhyme would have obliged me to seek for a va- riety of synonymes, and have rendered me master of them. From this belief, I took some of the tales of the Spectator, and turned them into verse j and after a time, when I had sufficiently forgotten them, I again converted them into prose. Sometimes also 1 mingled all my summaries toge- ther ; and a few weeks after, endeavoured to arrange them in the best order, before I attempted to form the periods and complete the essays. This I did with a view of acquiring method in the arrangement of my thoughts. On comparing afterwards my performance %vith the original, many faults were apparent, which DR. FHANKLiK. 2i5 1 torrected; but I had sometimes the satisfaction to think, that, in certain particulars of little importance, I had been fortunate enough to improve the order of thought or the style ; and this encouraged me to hope that I should succeed, in time, in writing the English language, which was one of the greatest oojects of my ambition. The time which I devoted to these exercises, and to reading, was the evening after my day's labour was finished, the morning before it began, and Sundays when I could escape attending divine service. While I lived with my father, he had insisted on my punctual attendance on public worship, and I still indeed consi- dered it as a duty, but a duty which I thought I had no time to practise. When about sixteen years of age, a work of Tryon fell into my hands, in which he recommends vegetable diet. I determined to observe it. My brother, being a bachelor, did not keep house, but boarded with his apprentices in a neighbouring family. My refusing to eat animal food was found inconvenient, ^nd I was often scolded for my singularity. I attended to the mode in which Tryon prepared some of his dishes, par- ticularly how to boil potatoes and rice, and make hasty puddings. I then said to my brother, that if he would allow me per week half what he paid for my board, I would undertake to maintain myself. The oifer was instantly embraced, and I soon found that of what he gavf me I was able to save half. This was a new fund for the purchase of books ; and other advantages re- sulted to me from the plan. When ray brother and his workmen left the printing-house to go to dinner, I re»- mained behind; and diispatching my frugal meal, which frequently consisted of a biscuit only, or a slice of bread and a bunch of raisins, or a bun from the pastry cook's, "With a glass of water, I had the rest of the time, till their return, for study; and my progress therein was proportioned to that clearness of ideas and quickness of conception, which are the fruit of temperance in eating and drinking. C ^6 THE LIFE OF It was about this period that, having one day been put to the blush for my ignorance in the art of calcula- tion, which I had twice failed to learn while at school, I took Cocker's Treatise of Arithmetic, and went through it by myself with the utmost ease. I also read a book of Navigation by Seller and Sturmy, and made myself master of the little geometry it contains, but I never proceeded far in this science. Nearly at the same time I read Lock on the Human understand- ing, and the Art of thinking by Messrs. du Port- Royal. While labouring to form and improve my style, I met with an English Grammar, which I believe was Greenwood's, having at the end of it two little essays on rhetoric and logic. In the latter I found a model of disputation after the manner of Socrates. Shortly af- ter I procured Xenophon's work, entitled Memorable Things of Socrates, in which are various examples of the same method. Charmed to a degree of enthusiasm with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and re- nouncing blunt contradiction, and direct and positive argument, I assumed the character of a humble ques- tioner. The perusal of Shaftsbury and Collins had made me a sceptic ; and being previously so as to ma- ny doctrines of Christianity, I found Socrates* method to be both the safest for myself, as well as the most em- barrassing to those against whom I employed it. It soon afforded me singular pleasure ; I incessantly prac- tised it ; and became very adroit in obtaining, even from persons of superior understanding, concessions of which they did not foresee the consequence. Thus I involved them in difficulties from which they were un- able to extricate themselves, and sometimes obtained victories which neither my cause nor my arguments merited. This method I continued to employ for some years ; but I afterwards abandoned it by degrees, retaining only the habit qf expressing myself with modest diffi- dence, and never making use, when I advanced any proposition which might be controverted, of the words DR, FRANKLIN. 37 certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that might give the appearance of being obstinately attached to my opinion. I rather said I imagine, I suppose, or it ap- pears to me, that such a thing is so or so, for such and such reasons ; or it is so, if I am not mistaken. This habit has, I think been of considerable advantage to me, when I have had occasion to impress my opinion on the minds of others and persuade them to the adop- tion of the measures I have suggested. And since the chief ends of conversation are, to inform or to be in- formed, to please or to persuade, I could wish that in- telligent and well-meaning men would not themselves diminish the powers they possess of being useful, by a positive and presumptuous manner of expressing them- selves, which scarcely ever fails to disgust the hearer, and is only calculated to excite opposition and defeat every purpose for which the faculty of speech has been bestowed upon man. In short, if you wish to inform, a positive and dogmatical manner of advancing your opinion may provoke contradiction, and prevent your being heard with attention. Qn the other hand, if with a desire of being informed, and of benefiting by the knowledge of others, you express yourselves as being strongly attached to your own opinions, modest and sen- sible men, who do not love disputation, will leave you in tranquil possession of your errors. By following such a method, you can rarely hope to please your audi- tors, conciliate their good-will, or work conviction on those whom you may be desirous of gaining over to your views. Pope judiciously observes, Men must be taught as if you taught them not, And things unknown proposed as things forgot. And in the same poem he afterwards advises us, To speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence. 28 THE LIFE OF He might have added to these lines, one that he Im:; coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with less propriety. It is thus : For want of decency is want of sense. If you ask why I say with les9 propriety, I mu«t give you the two lines together : Immodest words admit of no defence. For want of decency is want of sense. Now want of sense, when a man has the misfortune to be so circumstanced, is it not a kind of excuse for want of modesty ? And wauld not the verses have been more accurate, if they had been constructed thus : Immodest words admit but this defence. That want of decency is want of sense.^ But I leave the decision of this to better judges than myself. In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to print a nev/ public paper. It was the second that made its appear- ance in America, and was entitled the JVew England Courant. The only one that existed before was the Boston A''ews Letter. Some of his friends, I remem- ber, would have dissuaded him from this undertaking, as a thing that was not likely to succeed ; a single news- paper being, in their opinion sufiicient for all America.^ At present, however, in 1777, there is no less than Iwenty-iive. But he carried his project into execution, and I was employed in distributing tlie copies to his customers, after having assisted in composing and working them off. Among his friends he had a number of literary cha- racters, who, as an amusement, wrote short essays for the paper, which gave it reputation and increased its sale. Those gentlemen came frequently to our house. I heard the conversation that passed, and the accounts 1 DR. FRANKLIK* 29 they gave of the favourable reception of their writings, with the public. I was tempted to try my hand among them ; but, being still a child as it were, I was fearful that my brother might be unwilling to print in, his paper any performance of which he should know me to be the author. I therefore contrived to disguise my hand, and having written an anonymous piece, I placed it at night under the door of the printing-house, where it was found the next morning. My brother communicated it to his friends, when they came as usu- al to see him, who read it, commented upon it within my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure to find that it met with their approbation, and that, in the various conjectures they made respecting the author, no one was mentioned who did not enjoy a high repu- tation in the country for talents and genius. I now supposed myself fortunate in my judges, and began to suspect that they were not such excellent writers as I had hitherto supposed them. Be that as it may, en- couraged by this little adventure, I wrote and sent to the press, in the same way many other pieces, which were equally approved ; keeping the secret till my slen- der stock of information and knowledge for such per- formances was pretty completely exhausted, when I made myself known. .My brother, upon this discovery, began to entertain a little more respect for me ; but he still regarded himself as my master, and treated me like an apprentice- He thought himself entitled to the same services from me as from any other person. On the contrary, I conceived that, in many instances, he was too rigor- ous, and that on the part of a brother, I had a right to expect greater indulgence. Our disputes were fre- quently brought before my father ; and either my bro- ther was generally in the wrong, or I was the better pleader of the two, for judgment was commonly given in my favour. But my brother was passionate, and of- ten had recourse to blows ; a circumstance which I took in very ill part. This severe and tyrannical treatment contributed, I believe, to imprint on my mind that C2 30 THE LIFE or aversion to arbitrary power, which during my wholef life I have ever preserved. My apprenticeship became insupportable to me, and I continually sighed for an opportunity of shortening it, which at length unex- pectedly offered. An article inserted in our paper upon some political subject which I have now forgotten, gave offence to the Assembly. My brother was taken into custody, censured, and ordered into confinement for a month, because, as I presume, he would not discover the au- thor. I was also taken up, and examined before the council ; but, though I gave them no satisfaction, they contented themselves with reprimanding, and then dis- missed me ; considering me probably bound in quality of an apprentice, to keep my master's secrets. The imprisonment of my brother kindled my re- sentment, notwithstanding our private quarrels. Du- ring its continuance the management of the paper wa^ entrusted to me, and I was bold enough to insert some pasquinades against the governors ; which highly plea- sed my brother, while athers began to look upon me in an unfavourable point of view, considering me as a young wit inclined to satire and lampoon. My brother's enlargement was accompanied with an arbitrary order from the house of assembly, " That " James Franklin should no longer print the newspa- " per entitled the JVew-England Courant** In this conjuncture, we held a consultation of our friends at the printing-house, in order to determine what was proper to be done. Some proposed to evade the order by changing the title of the paper ; but my brother foreseeing inconveniences that would result from this step, thought it better that it should in future be print- ed in the name of Benjamin Franklin ; and to avoid the censure of the assembly, who might charge him with still printing the paper himself, under the name of his apprentice, it was resolved that my old indentures should be given up to me, with a full and entire dis- charge written on the back, in order to be produced upon an emergency ; but that to secure to my bro- ther the benefit of my service, I should sign a new con- tract which should be kept secret during the remainder of the term. This was a very shallow arrangement. It was, however, carried into immediate execution, and the paper continued, in consequence, to make its ap-' pearance for some months in my name. At length a new difference arising between my brother and me, I ventured to take advantage of my liberty, presuming that he would not dare to produce the new contract. It was undoubtedly dishonourable to avail myself of this circumstance, and I reckon this action as one of the first errors of my life ; but I was little capable of estimating it at its true value, embittered as my mind had been by the recollection of the blows I had received. Exclu- sively of his passionate treatment of me, my brother •was by no means a man of an ill temper, and perhaps my manners had too much of impertinence not to afford it a very natural pretext. When he knew that it was my determination to quit him, he wished to prevent my finding employment else- where. He went to all the printing houses in the town, and prejudiced the masters against me, who accordingly refused to employ me. The idea then suggested itself to me of going to New-York, the nearest town in which there was a printing office. Farther reflection confirm- ed me in the design of leaving Boston, where I had al- ready rendered myself an object of suspicion to the go- verning party. It was probable, from the arbitrary proceedings of the assembly in the affair of my brother, that by remaining I should soon have been exposed to difficulties, which I had the greater reason to appre- hend, as from my indiscreet disputes upon the subject of religion, I begun to be regarded by pious souls with horror, either as an apostate or an atheist. I came, there- fore, to a resolution ; but my father, in this instance, siding with my brother, I presumed that if I attempted to depart openly, measures would be taken to prevent me. My friend Collins undertook to favour my flight. He agreed for my passage with the captain of a New- York sloop, to whom he represented me as a young man / , 33 THE LIFE OF of his acquaintance,' who had had an affair with a girl of bad character, whose parents wished to compel me to marry her, and that of consequence, I could neither make*my appearance, nor go off publicly. I sold part ef my books to procure a small sum of money, and went privately on board the sloop. By favour of a good wind I found myself in three days at New- York, nearly three hundred miles from my home, at the age only of seventeen years, without knowing an in- dividual in the place, and with very little money in my pocket. The inclination I had felt for a seafaring life was entirely subsided, or I should now have been able to gratify it ; but having another trade, and believing myself a tolerable workman, I hesitated not to offer my services to the old Mr. William Bradford, who had been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but had quitted that province on account of a quarrel with George Keith the governor. He could not give me employ- ment himself, having little to do, and already as many persons as he wanted ; but he told me that his son, printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost his principal workman, Aquila Rose, who was dead, and that if I would go thither, he believed he would engage me. Philadelphia was an hundred miles farther. I hesi- tated not to embark in a boat in order to repair, by the shortest cut of the sea, to Amboy, leaving my trunk and effects to come after me by the usual and more tedious conveyance. In crossing the bay we met with a squall, which shattered to pieces our rotten sails, prevented us from entering the Kill, and threw us upon Long Island. During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, who like myself was a passenger in the boat, fell into the sea. At the moment that he was sinking, I seized him by the fore-top, saved him, and drew him on board. This Immersion sobered him a little, so that he' fell asleep, after !:aving taken from his pocket a volume, which he requested me to dry. This volume I found to be my old favourite work, Eunyan*s Voyages, in Dutch, a UR. FRANKLIM. 33 beautiful impression on fine paper, with copperplate en- gravings ; a dress in which I had never seen it in its original language. I have since learned that it has been translated into almost all the languages of Europe, and next to the Bible, I am persuaded, it is one of the books which has had the greatest spread. Honest John is the first, that I know of, who has mixed narrative and dialogue together ; a mode of writing very engaging to the reader, who in the most interesting passages, finds himself admitted, as it were, into the company, and present at the conversation. De Foe has imitated it with success in his Robinson Crusoe, his Moll Flan- ders, and other works ; as also has Richardson in his Pamelia, &c. In approaching the island we found that we had made a part of the coast where it was not possible to land, on account of the strong breakers produced by the rocky shore. We cast anchor and veered the cable towards the shore. Some men, who stood upon the brink, hallooed to us, while we did the same on our part ; but the wind was so high, and the waves so noisy, that we could neither of us hear each other. There were some canoes upon the bank, and we called out to them, and made signs to prevail on them to come and take us up ; but either they did not understand us, or they deemed our request impracticable, and with- drew. Night come on, and nothing remained for us, but to wait quietly the subsiding of the wind ; till when we determined, (that is, the pilot and I,) to sleep if pos- sible. For that purpose we went below the hatches along with the Dutchman, who was drenched with water. The sea broke over the boat, and reached us in our retreat, so that we were presently as completely abiIities of success, and himself and colonel French assured me that I should have their protection and influence in obtaining the printint^ of the public papers of both governments ; and as I ap- peared to doubt whether my father would assist me in this enterprise, Sir William said that he would give me a letter to him, in which he would represent the advantages of the scheme, in a light which he had no doubt would determine him. It was thus concluded that I should return to Boston by the first vessel, with the letter of recommendation from the governor to my father. Meanwhile the project was to be kept secret, and I continued to work for Keimer as before. The governor sent every now and then to invite me to dine with him. I considered this as a very great honoui- : and I was the more sensible of it, as he convers- ed with me in the most affable, l^^miliar and friendly manner imaginabie. Towards the end of April 1724, a small vessel was ready to sail for Boston. I took leave of Keimer, upon the pretext of going to see my parents. The governor gave me a long letter, in which he s-iid many flattering things of me to my father ; and stroni;ly recommended the project of my settling at Philadelphia, as a thing which could not fail to make my fortune. Going down the bay we struck on a flat, and sprung a leak. The weather was very tem{)estuous, and we were obliged to pump without intermission ; 1 took my turn. We arrived however safe and sound at Boston, after ftboiU a foi'tnigl>;'s passage. D 2 43 THE LIFE QF I had been absent seven complete months, and my relations during that interval, had received no intelli- gence of me; for my brother-in-law, Holmes, was not yet returned, and had not written about me. My unex- pected appearance surprised the family ; but they were all delighted at seeing me again, and, except my bro- ther, welcomed me home. I went to him at the print- jng-office. I was better dressed than I had ever been while in his service : I had a complete suit of clothes, new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my purse was furnished with nearly five pounds sterling in money. He gave me no very civil reception, and having eyed me from head to foot, resumed his work. The workman asked me with eagerness where I had been, what sort of a country it weis, and how I liked it. I spoke in the highest terms of Pliiladelphia, the happy life we led there, and expressed my intention of going back again. One of them asking what sort of money we had, I displayed before them a handful of silver, which I drew from my pocket. This was a curiosity to which they were not accustomed, paper being the current money at Boston. I failed not after this to let them see my watch ; and at last, my bro- ther continuing sullen and out of humour, I gave them a shilling to drink, and took my leave. This visit stung my brother to the soul ; for when, shortly after my mother spoke to him of a reconciliation, and a de- sire of seeing us upon good terms, he told her that I had so insulted him before his men, that he would ne» ver forget or forgive it ; in this, however, he was mis- taken. The governor's letter 'appeared to excite in my fa- ther some surprise ; but he said little. After some days, capt. Holmes being returned, he shewed it to him, asking him if he knew Keith, and what sort of a man he was : adding, that in his opinion, it proved very little discernment to think of setting up a boy in business, who for three years to come would not be of an age to be ranked in the class of men. Holmes said every thing he could in favour of the scheme j but DR. FRANKLIN. 43^^ iny father firmly maintained its absurdity, and at last gave a positive refusal. He wrote, however a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him for the protection he had so obligingly offered me, but refusing to assist me for the present, because he thought me too young to be entrusted with the conduct of so important an en- terprise, and which would require so considerable a sum of money. My old comrade Collins, who was a clerk in the post-office, charmed with the account I gave of my new residence, expressed a desire of going thither ; and while I waited my father's determination, he set off before me, by land, for Rhode-Island, leaving his books, which formed a handsome collection in mathe- matics and natural philosophy, to be conveyed with mine to New-York, where he purposed to wait for me. My father, though he could not approve Sir William's proposal, was yet pleased that I had obtained so advan- tageous a recommendation as that of a person of his rank, and that my industry and economy had enabled me to equip myself so handsomely in so short a period. Seeing no appearance of accommodating matters be- tween my brother and me, he consented to my return to Philadelphia, advised me to be civil to every body, to endeavour to obtain general esteem, and avoid satire and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too much inclined ; adding, that, with perseverance and prudent economy, I might by the time I became of age, save enough to establish myself in business ; and that if a small sum should then be wanting, he would undertake to supply it. This was all I could obtain from him, except some trifling presents, in token of friendship from him and my mother. I embarked once more for New-York, furnished at this time with their approbation and bles- sing. The sloop having touched at Newport in Rhode- Island, 1 paid a visit to my brother John, who had for some years been settled there, and was married. He had always been attached to me, and received me with 44 THE LIFE OF great afTection. One of his friends, whose name was Vernon, having a debt of about thirty six pounds due to him in Pennsylvania, begged me to receive it for him, and keep the money till I should kear from him : accordingly he gave me an order for that purpose. This affair occasioned me, in the sequel, much uneasi- ness. At Newport we took on board a number of passen- gers ; among whom were two young women, and a grave and sensible quaker lady with her servants. I had shown an obliging forwardness in rendering the quaker some trifling services, which led her probably, to feel some interest in my welfare ; for when she saw a familiarity take place, and every day increase, be- tween the two young woman and me, she took me aside and said, << Young man I am in pain for thee. Thou hast no parent to watch over thy conduct, and thou secmest to be ignorant of the world, and the snares to which youth is exposed. Rely upon what I tell thee; those are woman of bad characters ; I perceive it in all their actions. If thou dost not take care, they will lead thee into danger. They are strangers to thee, and I advise thee, by the friendly interest I take in thy pre- servation, to form no connection with them." As I ap- peared at first not to think quite so ill of them as she did, she related many things she had seen and heard, which had escaped my attention, but which convinced me she was in the right. I thanked her for her obli* ging advice, and promised to follow it. When we arrived at New-York, they informed me where they lodged, and invited me to come and see them. I did not however go, and it was well I did not; for the next day, the captain missing a silver spoon and some other things which had been taken from the cabin, and knowing these women to be pros- titutes, procured a search warrant, found the stolen goods upon them, and had them punished. And thus after having been saved from one rock concealed un- der water, upon which the vessel struck during our pas- DR. FRANKLIN. 45 sage, I escaped another of a still more dangerous na- ture. At New York I found my friend Collins, who had ar- rived some time before. We had been intimate from our infancy, and had read the same books together; and he had the advantage of beitig able to devote more time to reading and study, and an astonishing disposition for mathematics, in which he left me far behind him. When at Boston, 1 had been accustomed to pass with him almost all my leasure hours. He was then a sober and industrious lad ; his knowledge had gained him a very general esteem, and he seemed to promise to make an advantageous figure in society. But during my ab- sence, he had unfortunately addicted himself to brandy, and I learned, as well from himself as from the report ef others, that every day since his arrival at New York he had been intoxicated, and had acted in a very ex- travagant manner. He had also played, and lost all his money ; so that I was obliged to pay his expenses at the inn, and to maintain him during the rest of the journey ; a burden that was very inconvenient to roe. The governor of vN«w York, whose name was Bur- net, hearing the captain say that a young man who was a passenger in his ship had a great number of books, begged him to bring me to his house. I accordingly went and should have taken Collins with me had he been sober. I'he governor treated me with great civi- lity, showed me his library, which was a very consider- able one, and we talked for some time upon books and authors. This was the second governor who had hon- oured me with his attention ; and to a poor boy, as I then was, these little adventures did not fail to be pleasing. We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I received Vernor/s money, without which we should have been unable to have finished our journey. Collins wished to get employment as a merchant's clerk ; but either his breath or his countenance betray- ed his bad habit j for though he had recommendations, 45 THE LIFE OF he met with lio success, and continued to lodge and eat viih me, at my expense. Knowing that I had Vernon*s money, he was continually asking me to lend him some of it ; promising to repay me as soon as he couUr get employment. At last he had drawn so much of this money, that I was extremely alarmed at what might become of me, should he fail to make good the defi- ciency. His habit of drinking did not at all diminish, and was a frequent source of discord between us ; for when he had drank a little too much, he was very head- strong. Being one day in a boat together, on the Delaware with some other young persons, he refused to take his turn in rowing. " You shall row for me," said he, " till wc get home.**— «' No," I replied, " we will not row for you."—" You shall," said he, " or remain upon the water all night." — " As you please." — " Let us row," said the rest of the company, " what signifies whether he assists or not," But, already angry with him for his conduct in other respects, I persisted in my refusal. He then swore that he would make me row, or would throw me out of the boat ; and he made up to me. As soon as he was within my reach I took him by the col- lar, gave him a violent thrust, and threw him head fore- most into the river. I knew that he was a good swim- met, and was therefore under no apprehensions for his life. Before he could turn himself we were able, by a few strokes of our oars, to place ourselves out of his reach ; and whenever he touched the boat, we asked him if he would row, striking his hands with the oars to make him let go his hold. He was nearly suffocat- ed with rage, but obstinately refused making any pro- mise to row. Perceiving at length that his strength be- gan to be exhausted, we took him into the boat, and conveyed him home in the evening, completely drench- ed. The utmost coldness subsisted between us after this adventure. At last a captain of a West India ship, who was commissioned to procure a tutor for tiie chil- dren of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meeting with Col- lips, offered him the place. He accepted it, and took DR. FRANKLIN. ,47 his leave of me, promising to discharge the debt he owed me with the first money he should receive ; but I have heard nothing of him since. The violation of the trust reposed in me by VernoDj was one of the first great errors of my life; and it proves that my father was not mistaken when he sup- posed me too young to be entrusted with the manage- ment of important affairs. But Sir William, upon reading his letter, thought him too prudent. There was a difference, he said, between individuals : years of maturity were not always accompanied with discretion, neither was youth in every instance devoid of it. Since your father, anded he, will not set you up in business, I will do it myself. Make out a list of what will be wanted from England, and I will send for the articles. You shall repay me when you can. I am determined to have a good printer here, and I am sure you will succeed. This was said with so much seeming cor- diality, that I suspected not for an instant the sincerity of the offer. I had hitherto kept the project with which sir* William had inspired me, of settling in busi- ness at Philadelphia^ a secret, and I still continued to do so. Had my reliance on the governor been known, some friend, better acquainted with his character than myself, would d.ubtless have advised me not to trust him ; for I afterwards learned that he was universally known to be liberal of promises, which he had no in- tention to perform. But having never solicited him, how could I suppose his offer to be deceitful ? On the contrary I believed him to be the best man in the world. 1 gave him an inventory of a small printing office : the expence of which I had calculated at about an hun- dred pounds sterling. He expressed his approbation ; but asked if my presence in England, that I might choose the characters myself, and see that every ar- ticle was good in its kind, would not be an advantage. You will also be able, said he, to form some acquain- tance there, and establish a correspondence wiih sta- tioners and booksellers. This I acknowledged was de- 48 THE LIFE OF sirable. That being the case, added he, hold yourself in readiness to go withthe Annis. This was the annual vessel, and the only one, at that lime, which made regu- lar voyages between the ports of London and Philadel- phia. But the Annis was not to sail for some months. 1 therefore continued to work with Keimer, unhappy respecting the sum which Collins had drawn from me, and almost in continual agony at the thoughts of Ver- non, who fortunately made no demand of his money till several years after. In the account of my first voyage from Boston to Philadelphia, I omitted, I believe, a trifling circum- stance, which will not perhaps be out of place here. During a calm that stopped us above Block Island, the crew employed themselves in fishing for cod, of which they caught a great number. I had hitherto adhered to my resolution of not eating any thing that had pos- sessed life ; and I considered on this occasion, agree- ably to the maxims of my master Tryon, the capture of every fish as a sort of murder, committed without provocation, since these animals had neither done, nor were capable of doing, the smallest injury to any one that should justify the measure. This mode of reason- ing I conceived to be unanswerable. Meanwhile I had formerly been extremely fond of fish ; and when one of these cod was taken out of the frying-pan, I thought its flavour delicious. I hesitated some time between principle and inclination, till at last recollect- ing, that when the cod had been opened, some small fish were found in its belly, I said to myself, if you eat one another, I see no reason why we may not eat you, I accordingly dined on the cod with no small degree of pleasure, and have since continued to eat like the rest of mankind, returning only occasionally to my ve- getable plan. How convenient does it prove to be a rational animal, that knows how to find or invent a plausible pretext for whatever it has an inclination to do! I continued to live upon good terms with Keimer, who had not the smallest suspicion of my projected esia- DR. FRANKLIN. 49 blishment. He still retained a portion of his former enthusiasm ; and being fond of argument we frequently disputed together. I was so much in the habit of usinj^ my Socratic method, and had so freq^uently puzzled him by my questions, which appeared at first very distant from the point in debate, yet nevertheless led to it by degrees, involving him in difficulties and contradic- tions from which he was unable to extricate himself, that he became at last ridiculously cautious, and would scarcely answer the most plain and familiar question without previously asking nve— What would you infer from that? Hence he formed' so high an opinion of my talents for refutation, that he seriously proposed to me to become his colleague in the establishment of a new re- ligious sect. He was to propagate the doctrine by preach- ing, and I to refute every opponent. When he explained to me his tenets, I found many absurdities, which I refused to admit, unless he would agree in turn to adopt some of my opinions. Keimer wore his beard long, because Moses had somewhere said, Thou shall not mar the corners of thy beard. He likewise observed the Sabbath ; and these were with him two very essential points, I disliked them both ; but I consented to adopt them, provided he would ab- stain from animal food. I dovibt, said he, whether my constitution will be able to support it. I assured hira on the contrary, that he would find himself the better for it. He was naturally a glutton, and I wished to amuse myself by starving him. He consented to make trial of this regimen, if I would bear him company ; and in reality we continued it for three months. A woman in the neighbourhood perpared and brought us our victuals, to whom I gave a list of forty dishes; in the composition of which there entered neither flesh nor fish. This fancy was the more agreeable to me, as it turned to good account ; for the whole expence of our living did not exceed for each eighteen-pence a week. I have since that period observed several Lents with the greatest strictness, and have suddenly returned again to my ordinary diet, without experiencing the smallest E 50 THE LIFE OF inconvemence ; which has led me to regard as of no importance the advice commonly given of introducing gradually such alterations of regimen. I continued it cheerfully ; but poor Keimer suffered terribly. Tired of the project, he sighed for the flesh pots of Egypt. At length he ordered a roast pig, and invited me and two of our female acquaintance to dine with him ; but the pig being ready a little too soon, he could not resist the temptation, and eat it all up before we arrived. During the circumstances I have related, I had paid some attention to iVI,iss Read. I entertained for her the utmost esteem and affection ; and I had reason to believe that these sentiments were mutual. But we were both young, scarcely more than eighteen years of age ; and as I was on the point of undertaking a long voyage, her mother thought it prudent to prevent mat- ters being carried too far for the present, judging that if marriage was our object, there would be more pro- priety in it after my return, when, as at least I expected, I should be established in my business. Perhaps also she thought that my expectations were not so well found- ed as I imagined. My most intimate acquaintance at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph ; young men who were all fond of reading. The two first were clerks to Mr. Charles Brockdon, one of the principal attornies in the town, and the other clerk to a merchant. Watson was an upright pious and sensi- ble young man : the others were somewhat more loose in their principles of religion, particularly Ralph, whose faith, as well as that of Collins, I had contribut- ed to shake ; each of whom made me suffer a very adequate punishment. Osborne was sensible and sin- cere and affectionate in his friendships, but too much inclined to the critic in matters of literature. Ralph was ingenious and shrewd, genteel in his address, and extremely eloquent. I do not remember to have met with a more agreeable speaker. They were both ena- DR. FRANKLIN. 51 moured of the muses, and had already evinced their pas- sion by some small poetical productions. It was a custom with tis to take a charming walk on Sundays, in the woods that border on the Schuylkill. Here we read together, and afterwards conversed on what we read. Ralph was disposed to give himself up entirely to poetry. He flattered himself that he should arrive at great eminence in Ihe art, and even acquire a fortune. The sublimest poets, he pretended, when they first began to write, committed as many faults as himself. Osborne endeavoured to dissuade him from it, by assuring him that he had no genius for poetry, and advised him to stick to the trade, in which he had been brought up. In the road of commerce, said he, you will be sure by diligence and assiduity, though you have no capital, of so far succeeding as to be em- ployed as a factor, and may thus, in time, acquire the means of setting up for yourself. I concurred in these sentiments, but at the same time expressed my appro- bation of amusing ourselves sometimes with poetry, with a view to improve our style. In consequence of this it was proposed, that, at our next meeting, each of us should bring a copy of verses of his own con>po- sition. Our object in this competition was to benefit each other by our mutual remarks, criticisms, and cor- rections ; and as style and expression were all we had in view, we excluded every idea of invention, by agree- ing that our task should be a version of the eigh. teenth Psalm, in which is described the descent of the Deity. The time of our meeting drew near, when Ralph called upon me, and told me his piece was ready. I informed him that I had been idle, and, not much lik- ing the task, had done nothing. He shewed me his piece, and asked what I thought of it. I expressed myself in terms of warm approbation; because it real- ly appeared to have considerable merit. He then said, Osborne will never acknowledge the smallest degree of excellence in any production of mine. Envy alone die- 52 THE LIFE OF tates to him a thousand animadversions. Of you he h not so jealous. I wish therefore you would take the verses, and produce them as your own. I will pretend not to have had leisure to write any thing. We shall then see in what manner he will speak of them. I agreed to this little artifice, and immediately transcribed the verses to prevent all suspicion. We met. Watson's performance was the first that was read. It had some beauties, but many faults. We next read Osborne's, which was much better. Ralph did it justice, remarking a few imperfections, and ap- plauding such parts as were excellent. He had him- self nothing to show. It was now my turn. I made some difficulty ; seemed as if I wished to be excused ; pretended that I had had no time to make corrections, &c. No excuse, however, was admissible, and the piece must be produced. It was read and re-read. Watson and Osborne immediately resigned the palm, and united in applauding it. Ralph alone made a few remarks, and proposed some alterations ; but I defend- ed my text. Osborne agreed with me, and told Ralph he was no more able to criticise than he was able to write. ^ When Osborne was alone with me, he expressed himself still more strongly in favour of what he consi- dered as my performance. He pretended that he had put some restraint on himself before, apprehensive of my construing his commendation into flattery. But who would have supposed, said he, Franklin to be ca- pable of such a composition ? What painting, what energy, what fire ! He has surpassed the original. In his common conversation he appears not to have choice of words ; he hesitates, and is at a loss ; and yet, good God how he writes. At our next meeting Ralph discovered the trick we had played Osborne, who was rallied without mercy.^ By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his resolution of becomin?^ a poet. I left nothing unattempted to divert him from his purpose j but he persevered, till at t>U. VKANKLIK. / 53 last the reading of Pope* effected his cure : he became, however a very tolerable prose writer. I shall speak more of him hereafter ; but as I shall probably have no farther occasion to mention the other two, I ought to observe here, that Watson died a few years after in my arms. He was greatly regretted ; for he was the best of our society. Osborne went to the islands, where he gained considerable reputation as a barrister, and was getting money ; but he died young. We had seriouly engaged, that whoever died first should return if pos- sible, and pay a friendly visit to the survivor, to give him an account of the other world ; but he has never fulfilled his engagement. The governor appeared to be fond of my company, and frequently invited me to his house. He always spoke of his intention of settling me in business, as a point that was decided. I was to take v^ith me letters of recommendation to a number of friends; and particu- larly a letter of credit, in order to obtain the necessary sum for the purchase of my press, types and paper. He appointed various times for me to come for these letters, which would certainly be ready ; and when I came, always put me off to another day. These successive delays continued till the vessel whose departure had been several times deferred, was on the point of setting sail : when I again went to Sir Wil- liam's house, to receive my letters, and take leave of him. I saw his secretary. Dr. IJard, who told me that the governor was extremely busy writing, but that he would be down at Newcastle before the vessel, and that the letters would be delivered to me there. Ralph, though he was married and had a child, de- termined to accompany me in this voyage. His object * Probably the Dunciad, where we find him thus immortalized by the author ; Silence ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls And makes night hideous ; answer him, ye owls ! }i 2 54 The life of was supposed to be the establishing a correspondence with some mercantile houses, in order to sell goods by commission ; but I afterwards learned, that having rea* son to be dissatisfied with the parents of his wife, be proposed to himself to leave her on their hands and never return to America again. Having taken leave of my friends, and interchanged promises of fidelity with Miss Read, I quitted Phila- delphia. At Newcastle the vessel came to anchor. The governor was arrived, and 1 went to his lodgings. His secretary received me with great civility, told me on the part of the governor that he could not see me then, as he was engaged in affairs of the utmost impor- tance, but that he would send the letters on board, and that he wished me with all his heart, a good voyage and speedy return. I returned somewhat astonished to the ship, but still without entertaining the slightest suspicion. Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of Philadelphia, had taken a passage to England for himself and his son, and, in conjunction with Mr. Denham a quaker, and Messrs. Oniam and Russel, proprietors of a forge in Maryland, had agreed for the whole cabin, so that Ralph and I were obliged to take up our lodging with the crew. Being unknown to every body in the ship, we were looked upon as the common order of people : but Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James, who was afterwards governor) left us at Newcasle, and return- ed to Philadelphia, where he was recalled, at a very great expence, to plead the cause of a vessel that had been seized ; and just as we were about to sail, colonel French came on board, and showed me many civilities. The passengers upon this paid me more attention, and I was invited together with my friend Ralph, to occupy the place in the cabin which the return of the Mr. Hamiltons had made vacant; an offer which we very readily accepted.. Having learned that the dispatches of the governor had been brought on board by colonel French, I asked the Ciptain for the letters that were to be entrusted DR. FRANKLIN. 5^5 to my care. He told me that they were all put toge- ther in the bag, which he could not open at present ; but before we reached England, he would give me an opportunity of taking them out. I was satisfied with this answer, and we pursued our voyage. The company in the cabin were all very sociable, and we were perfectly well off as to provisions, as we had the advantage of the whole of Mr- Hamilton's who had laid in a very plentiful stock. During the passage Mr Denham contracted a friendship for me, which ended only with his life : in other respects the voyage was by no means an agreeable one, as we had much bad weather. When we arrived in the river, the captain was as good as his word, and allowed me to search the bag for the governor's letters. I could not find a single one with my name written on it, as committed to my care ; but I selected six or seven, which 1 judged from the direction to be those that were intended for me j particularly one to Mr. Basket the King's printer, and another to a stationer, who was the first person I called upon. I delivered him the letter as coming from go- vernor Keith. " I have no acquaintance (said he) " with any such person ;" and opening the letter, " Oh " it is from Riddlesden i" he exclaimed. ** I have " lately discovered him to be a very arrant knave, and *' I wish to have nothing to do either with him or his " letters." He instantly put the letter in my hand, turned upon his heel, and left me to serve some cus- tomers I was astonished at finding these letters were not from the governor. Reflecting, and putting circum- stances together, I then began to doubt his sincerity. I rejoined my friend Denham, and related the whole affair to him. He let me at once into Keith's cha- racter, told me there was not the least probability of his having written a single letter; that no one who knew him ever placed any reliance on him, and laughed at my credulity in supposing that the governor would give me a letter of credit, when he had no credit for 56 THE LIFE OF himself. As I shewed some uneasiness respecting what step I should take, he advised me to try to get employ- ment in the house of some printer. You may there, said he, improve yourself in business, and you will be able to settle yourself the more advantageously when you return to America. We knew already, as well as the stationer, attorney Riddlesden to be a knave. He had nearly ruined the father of Miss Read, by drawing him in to be his se- curity. We learned from his letter that he was se- cretly carrying on an intrigue, in concert with the go- vernor, to the prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, who it was supposed would by this time be in Europe. Denham, who was Hamilton's friend, was of opinion that he ought to be made acquainted with it ; and in reality, the instant he arrived in England, which was very soon after, I waited on him, and, as much from good- will to him as from resentment against the governor, put the letter into his hands. He thanked me very sincerely, the information it contained being of conse- quence to him J and from that moment bestowed on me his friendship, which afterwards proved on many occa- sions serviceable to me. But what are we to think of a governor who could play so scurvy a trick, and thus grossly deceive a poor young lad, wholly destitute of experience ? It was a j^ractice with him. Wishing to please every body, and having little to bestow, he w^s lavish of promises. He was in other respects sensible and judicious, a very to- lerable writer, and a good governor for the people ; though not so for the proprietaries, whose instructions he frequently disregarded. Many of our best laws were his work, and established during his administra- tion. Ralph and I were inseparable companions. Wc took a lodging together at three^and- sixpence a week, which was as much as we could afford. He met with some relations in London, but they were poor, and not able to assist him. He now, for the first time, in- iorraed me of his intention to remain in England, and DR. FRANKLIN. 5f that he had no thoughts of ever returning to Philadel- phia. He was totally without money ; the little he had been able to raise having barely sufficed for his passage. I had still fifteen pistoles remaining ? and to me he had from time to time recourse, while he tried to get em- ployment. At first believing himself possessed of talents for the stage he thought of turning actor; but Wilkes, to whom he applied, frankly advised him to renounce the idea, as it was impossible to succeed. He next pro- posed to Roberts, a bookseller in Paternoster-row, to write a weekly paper in the manner of the Spectator, upon terms, to which Roberts would not listen. Last- ly he endeavoured to procure employment as a copyist, and applied to the lawyers and stationers about the Tem- ple ; but he could find no vacancy. As to myself I immediately got engaged at Palmer's, at that time a noted printer in Bartholomew Close, with whom I continued nearly a year, I applied very assiduously to my work ; but I expended wiih Ralph almost all that I earned. Plays and other places of amusement which we frequented together, having exausted my pistoles, we lived after this from hand to mouth. He appeared to have entirely forgotten his wife and child, as I also by degrees forgot my engagements with Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one letter, and that merely to inform her that I was not likely to return soon. This was another grand error of my life, which I should be desirous of correctin^where i to begin my career again. I was employed at Palmer's on the second edition of Woolaston*s Religion of Nature. Some of his argu- ments appearing to me not to be well founded, I wrote a small metaphysical treatise, in which I animadverted on those passages. It was entitled a Dissertation on Liberty and necessity, Pleasure and Pain. I dedica- ted it to my friend Ralph, and printed a small number of copies. Palmer upon this treated me with more con- sideration, and regarded me as a young man of talents; 68 THE LIFE OF though he seriously took me to task for the principles of my pamphlet, which he looked upon as abominable. The printing of this book was another error of my life. While I lodged in Little Britain I formed acquain- tance with a bookseller of the name of Wilcox, whose shop was next door to me. Circulating libraries were not then in use. He had an immense collection of books of all sorts. We agreed that, for a reasonable retribution, of which I have now forgotten the price, I should have free access to his library, and take what books I pleased, which I was to return when I had read them. I considered this agreement as a very great ad- vantage ; and I derived from it as much benefit as was in my power. My pamphlet falling into the hand of a surgeon, of the name of Lyons, author, of a book entitled Infalli- bility of Human Judgment, was the occasion of a con- siderable intimacy between us. He expressed great esteem for me, came frequently to see me, in order to converse upon metaphysical subjects, and introduced me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the Fable of Bees, who had instituted a club at a tavern in Cheapside, of which he was the soul : he was a facetious and very amusing character. He also introduced me, at Bas- ton's coffee-house, to Dr. Pemberton who promised to give me an opportunity of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, which I very ardently desired ; but he never kept his word. ; I had brought some curiosities with me from Ame- rica ; the principle of which was a purse made of as- bestos, which fire only purifies. Sir Hans Slone hear- ing of it, called upon me, and invited me to his house in Bloomsbury square, where, after showing me every thing that was curious, he prevailed on me to add this piece to his collection ; for which he paid me very hand- somely. There lodged in the same house with us a young woman, a milliner, who had a shop by the side of the exchange. Lively and sensible, and having received DR. FRANKLIN. 59 an education somewhat above her rank, her conversa- tion was very agreeable. Ralph read plays to her every evening. They became intimate. She took another lodging, and he followed her. They lived for some time together ; but Ralph being without employm.ent, she having a child, and the profits of her business not sufficing for the maintenance of three, he resolv- ed to quit London and try a country school. This was a plan in which he thought himself likely to suc- ceed, as he wrote a fine hand and was versed in arith- metic and accounts. But considering the office as be- neath him, and expecting some day to make a better figure in the world, when he should be ashamed of Its being known that he had exercised a profession so little honourable, he changed his name and did me the ho- nour of assuming mine. He wrote to me soon after his departure, informing me that he was settled at a small village in Berkshire. In his letter he recom- mended Mrs. T***, the milliner to my care, and request- ed an answer, directed to Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster atN**». He continued to write to me frequently, sending me large fragments of an epic poem he was composing, and which he requested me to criticise and correct. I did so, but not without endeavouring to prevail on him to renounce this pursuit. Young had just published one of his Satires. I copied and sent him a great part of it ; in which the author demonstrates the folly of culti- vating the Muses, from the hope, by their instrumen- tality of rising in the world. It was all to no purpose; paper after paper of his poem continued to arrive every post. Meanwhile Mrs T*** having lost, on his account, both her friends and her business, was frequently in distress. In this dilemma she had recourse to me ; and to extricate her from her difficulties, I lent her all the money I could spare. I felt a little too much fond- ness for her: Having at that time no ties of religion, and taking advantage of her necessitous situation, I attempted liberties (another error of my life) which she 60 Tfli; iiwm ow repelled with becoming indignation. She informed Ralph of my conduct ; and the affair occasioned a breach between us. When he returned to London, he gave me to understand ihat he considered all the obli- gations he owed me as annihilated by this proceeding ; whence I concluded that I was never to expect the payment of what money I had lent him, or advanced on his account. I was the less afflicted at this, as he was unable to pay me ; and as, by loosing his friendship, I was relieved at the same time from a very heavy bur- den. I now began to think of laying by some money. The printing house of Watt's near Lincoln's Inn Fields, be- ing a still more considerable one than that in which I worked, it was probable I might find it more advantage- ous to be employed there. I offered myself, and was accepted ; and in this house I continued during the re- mainder of my stay in London. On my entrance I worked at first as a pressman, con- ceiving that I had need of bodily exercise, to which I had been accustomed in America, where the printers work alternately as compositors and at the press. I drank nothing but water. The other workmen, to the number of about fifty, were great drinkers of beer. I carried occasionally a large form of letters in each hand, up and down stairs, while the rest employed both hands to carry one. They were surprised to see, by this and many other examples, that the ^imerican Aquatic^ as they used to call me, was stronger than those who drank porter. The beer boy had sufficient employment dur- ing the whole day in serving that house alone. My fellow-pressman drank every day a pint of beer before breakfast, a pint with bread and cheese for breakfast, one between breakfast and dinner, one at dinner, one again at about six o'clock in the afternoon, and another after he had finished his day's work. This custom ap- peared tome abominable ; but he had need, he said, of all this beer, in order to acquire strength to work. I endeavoured to convince him that bodily strength furnished by the beer, could only be in proportion to ' DR. FRANKLIN. 61 ibc solid part of the barley dissolved in the water of which the beer was composed ; that there was a larger portion of flour in a penny loaf, and that con- sequently if he eat this loaf and drank a pint of wa- ter with it, he would derive more strength from it than from a pint of beer. This reasoning, however, did not prevent him from drinking his accustomed quantity of beer, and paying every Saturday night a score of four or five shillings a week for this cursed beverage ; an expense from which I was wholly exempt. Thus do these poor devils continue all their lives in a state of voluntary wretchedness and poverty. At the end of a few weeks, Watts having occasion for me above stairs as a composi or, I quitted the press. The compositors demanded of me garnish money afresh. This I considered as an imposition, having already paid below. The master was of the same opi- nion, and desired me not to comply. I thus remain- ed two or three weeks out of the fraternity. I was consequently looked upon as excommunicated ; and whenever I was absent, no little tricl^ that malice could suggest was left unpracticed upon me. I found my letters mixed, my pages transposed, my matter bro- ken, &c. &c. all which was attributed to the spirit that haunted the chapel,* and tormented those who were not regularly admitted. I was at last obliged to sub- mit to pay notwithstanding the protection of the mas- ter ; convinced of the folly of not keeping up a good understanding with those among whom we are destined to live. After this I lived in the utmost harmony with my fellow-labourers, and soon acquired considerable influ- ence among them. I proposed some alterations in the laws of the chapel, which I carried without op- position. My example prevailed with several of them to renounce their abominable practice of bread and • Printing offices in general are thus denominated by the work- men ; the spirit they call by the name of Ralph. F 62 THE LIFE OF cheese with beer ; and they procured, like me, from a neighbouring house, a good bason ot warm griiel, in which was a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, which did not cost more than a pint of bee?, namely, three half- pence, and at the same time preserved the head clearer. Those who continued to gorge themselves with beer, often lost their credit with the publican, from neglecting to pay their score. They had then recourse to me, to become security for them ; thdr lights as they used to call it, being out, I attended at the pay-table every Saturday evening, to take up the little sum of money which I had made myself answerable for ; and which sometimes amounted to nearly thirty shillings a week. This circumstance, added to my reputation of being a tolerable good gabber^ or, in other words, skilful in the art of burlesque, kept up my importance in the chapel. I had besides recommended myself to the es- teem of the master by my assiduous application to bu- siness, never observing Saint Monday. My extraordi- nary quickness in composing always procured me such work as was most urgent, and which is commonly best paid ; and thus my time passed away in a very pleasant manner. My lodging in Little Britain being too far from the printing house, I took another in Duke street, opposite the Roman chapel. It was at the back of an Italian ware-house. The house was kept by a widow, who had a daughter, a servant, and a shop boy ; but the latter slept out of the house. After sending to the people with whom I had lodged in Little Britain, to inquire into my character, she agreed to take me in at the same price, three and sixpence a week ; contenting herself, she said, with so little, because of the security she would derive, as they were all women, from having a man lodge in the house. She was a woman rather advanced in life, the daughter of a clergyman. She had been educated a Protestant ; but her husband, whose memory she highly revered, had conv:erted her to the Catholic religion. She haU DH. FRANKLl>f. 63 lived in habits of intimacy with persons of distinction ; of whom she knew various anecdotes as far back as the time of Charles II. Being subject to fits of the gout which often confined her to her room, she was some- times disposed to see company. Iier*s was so amusing to me that I was glad to pass the evening with her as often as she desired it. Our supper consisted only of half an anchovy a-piece, upon a slice of bread and but- ter, with half a pint of ale between us. But the enter- tainment was in her conversation. The early hours I kept, and the little trouble I occa- sioned in the family, made her loath to part with me ; and when I mentioned another lodging I had found nearer the printing house, at two shillings a week, which fell in with my plan of saving, she persuaded me to give it up, making herself an abatement of two shillings ; and thus I continued to lodge with her, during the re- mainder of my abode in London,at eighteen pence a week. In the garret of the house there lived, in the most retired manner, a lady seventy years of age, of whom I received the following account from my landlady. She was a Roman Catholic. In her early years she had been sent to the continent, and entered a convent with the design of becoming a nun ; but the climate not agreeing with her constitution, she was obliged to re- turn to England, where, as there was no monasteries, she made a vow to lead a monastic life, in as rigid a manner as circumstances would permit. She accord- ingly disposed of all her property, to be applied to cha- ritable uses, reserving to herself only twelve pounds a year ; and of this small pittance she gave a part to the poor, living on water-gruel, and never making use of fire but to boil it. She had lived in this garret a great many years, without paying any rent to the successive Catholic inhabitants that had kept the house; who indeed considered her abode with them as a blessing. A pries^t came every day to confess her. *' I have asked her,'* said my landlady, '» how, living as she did, she could find so much employment for a confessor ?" To which she ans-wered, that it was impossible to avoid vain thoughts. 64 THE LIFE OF I was once permitted to visit her. She was cheerful and polite, and h«r conversation agreeable. Her apart- ment was neat; but the whole furniture consisted of a mattrass, a table, on which were a crucifix and book, a chair, which she gave me to sit on, and over the mantle- piece a picture of St. Veronica, displaying her hanker- chief, on which was seen the miraculous impression of the face of Christ, which she explained to me with great gravity. Her countenance was pale, but she had ne- ver experienced sickness; and I may adduce her as ano- ther proof how little is sufficient to maintain life and health. At tiie printing house I contracted an intimacy with a sensible young man of the name of Wygate, who, as his parents were in good circumstances, had received a better education than is common among printers. He was a tolerable Latin scholar, spoke French fluently and was fond of reading. I taught him, as well as a friend of his, to swim, by taking them twice only into the ri- ver ; after which they stood in need of no further assist- ance. We one day made a party to ^o by water to Chelsea, in order to see the College, and don Soltero's curiosities. On our return, at the request of the com- pany, whose curiosity Wygate had excited, I undressed myself and leaped into the river. I swam from near Chelsea the whole way to Blackfriars bridge, exhibiting during my course, a variety of feats of activity and ad- dress, both upon the surface of the water, as well as un- der it. This sight occasioned much astonishment and pleasure to those to whom it was nev/. In my youth I took great delight in this exercise. I knew, and could execute, all the evolutions and positions of Thevenot ; and I added to them some of my own invention, in which I endeavoured to unite gracefulness and utility. I took a pleasure in displaying them ail on this occa- sion, and was highly flattered with the admiration they (Qxcited. Wygate besides his being desirous of perfecting him- self in this art Vv'as the more attached to me from there being, in other repects, a conformity in our tastes and 1 dh. franklin. 65 studies. He at lenc^th proposed to me to make the tour of Europe with him, maintaining^ ourselves at the same time by working at our profession. I was on the point of consenting, when I mentioned itto my friend Denham, with whom I was glad to pass an hour when- ever I had leisure. He dissuaded me from the project, and advised me to return to Philadelphia, which he was about to do himself. 1 must relate in this place a trait of this worthy man*s character. He had formerly been in business at Bristol, but failing, he compounded with his creditors, and depart- ed for America, where, by assiduous application as a merchant, he acquired in a few years a very considera- ble fortune. Returning to England in the same ves- sel with myself, a's I have related above, he invited all his old creditors to a feast. When assembled, he thank- ed them for the readiness with which they had receiv- ed his small composition ; and, while they expected nothing more than a simple entertainment, each found under his plate when it came to be removed, a draft upon a banker for the residue of his debt with interest. He told me it was his intention to carry back with him to Philadelphia a great quantity of goods, in or- dsr to open a store ; and he offered to take me with him in the capacity of a clerk, to keep his books, in which he would instruct me, copy letters, and superin- tend the store. He added, that, as soon as I had ac- quired a knowledge of mercantile transactions, he would improve my situation, by sending me with a cargo of corn and flour to the American Islands, and by- procuring me other lucrative commissions : so that with good management and oeconomy, I might in time begin business with advantage for myself. I relished these proposals. London began to tire me ; the agreeable hours I had passed at Philadelphia presented themselves to my mind, and I wished to see them revive. I consequently engaged myself to Mr. Denham, at a salary of fifty pounds a year. This was Indeed less than I earned as a compositor, but then I F2 &6 THE LirEi OF had a much fairer prospect. I took leave, therefore, as I believed forever, of printing, and gave myself up en- tirely to my new occupation, spending all my time ei- ther in going from house to house with Mr. Denham to purchase goods, or in packing them up, or in expedit- ing the workmen, &c. &c. When every thing however was o.n board, I had at last a few days leisure. During this interval, I was one day sent for by a gentleman, whom I knew only by name. It was Sir William Wyndham. I went to his house. He had by some means heard of my performances between Chelsea and Blackfriars, and that I had taught the art of swimming to Wygate and another young man in the course of a few hours. His two sons were on the point of setting out on their travels ; he was desirous that they should previously learn to swim, and offered me a very liberal reward if I would undertake to in- struct them. They were not yet arrived in town, and the stay I should make myself was uncertain ; I could not therefore accept his proposal. I was led however to suppose from this incident, that if I had wished to re- main in London and open a swimming-school I should perhaps have gained a great deal of money. This idea struck me so forcibly, that, had the oifer been made sooner, I should have dismissed the thought of return- ing as yet to America. Some years after, you and I had a more important business to settle with one of the sons of Sir VVilliam Wyndham, then Lord Egremont. But let us not anticipate events. I thus passed about eighteen months in London, working almost without intermission at my trade, a- voiding all expence on my own account, except going tiow and then to the play and purchasing a few books. JBut my friend Ralph kept me poor. He owed me about twenty-seven pounds, which was so much mo- ney lost ; and when considered as taken from my lit- tle savings, was a very great sum. I had notwith- standing this a regard for him, as he possessed many amiable qualities. But though I had done nothing for DR. JPRANKLIK. £? myself in point of fortune, I had increased my stock of knowledge, either by the many excellent books I had read; or the conversation of learned and literary persons with whom I was acquainted. We sailed from Gravesend the 23d of July 1726. For the incidents of my voyage I refer you to my Jour- nal where you will fiud all the circumstances minutely i-elated. We landed at Philadelphia on the 1 1th of the following October. Keith had been deprived of his office of governor, and was succeeded by Major Gordon, I met him walk- ing in the streets as a private individual. He appeared a little ashamed at seeing me, but passed on without saying any thing. I should have been equally ashamed myself at meet- ing Miss Read, had not her family, justly despairing of my return after reading my letter, advised her to give me up, and marry a potter, of the name of Ro- gers ; to which she consented : but he never made her happy, and she soon separated from him, refusing to cohabit with him, or even bear his name, on account of a report which prevailed, of his having another wife, His skill in his profession had seduced Miss Read's pa- rents; but he was as bad a subject as he was excellent as a workman. He involved himself in debt, and fled, in the year 1727 or 1728, to the West Indies where he died. During my absence Keimer had taken a more con- siderable house, in which he kept a shop, that was well supplied with paper, and various other articles. He had procured some new types, and a number of work- men ; among whom, however there was not one who was good for any thing : and he appeared not to w business. Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water-stree where we exhibited our commodities. I applied my- self closely, studied accounts, and became in a short time very expert in trade. We lodged and eat together. He was sincerely attached to me, and acted towards me as if he had been my father. On my side, I re- 68 THE LIFE OP spected and loved him. My situation was happy ; but it was a happiness of no lon^ duration. Early in February 1727, when I entered into tny twenty-second year* we were both taken ill. I was attacked with a pleurisy, which had nearly carried me off; I suffered terribly, and considered it as all over with me. I felt indeed a sort of disappointment when I found myself likely to recover, and ref^retted that I had still to experience, soooer or later, the same dis- agreeable scene again. I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's disorder ; but it was a tedious one, and he at last sunk under it. He left me a small legacy in his will, as a testimony of his friendship ; and I was once more abandoned to myself in the wide world, the ware-house being confi- ded to the care of the testamentary executor, who dis- missed me. My brother-in-law, Holmes^ who happened to be at Philadelphia, advised me to return to my former pro- fession ; and Keimer offered me a very considerable sa- lary if I would undertake the management of his print- ing-office, that he might devote himself entirely to the superintendance of his shop. His wife and relations in London had given me a bad character of him ; and 1 was loath for the present, to have any concern with him. I endeavoured to get employment as a clerk to a mer- chant ; but not readily finding a situation, I was induc- ed to accept Keimer's proposal. The following were the persons I found in his print- ing-house : Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thirty-five years of age. He had been brought up to husbandry, was honest, sensible, had some experience, and was fond of reading ; but too much addicted to drinking. Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke from school, and of rustic education, with endowments rather above the common order, and a competent portion of under- standing and gaiety ; but a little idle. Keimer had en- gaged these two at very low wages, which he had pro- iQised to raise every three monihs a shilling a week> DR. FRANKLIN. 69 provided their improvement in the typographical art should merit it. This future increase of wages was the bait he made use of to ensnare them. Meredith was to work at the press, and Potts^o bind books, which he had engaged to teach them, though he* understood neither himself. John Savage, an Irishman, who had been brought up to no trade, and whose service, for a period of four years, Keimer had purchased of the captain of a ship. He was also to be a pressman. George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time he had in like manner bought for four years, intending him for a compositor. I shall speak more of him pre- sently. Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was appren- ticed to him. I soon perceived that Keimer's intention, in engag- ing me at a price so much above what he was accus- tomed to give, was, that I might form all these raw journeymen and apprentices, who scarcely cost him any thing, and who, being indentured, would as soon as they should be sufficiently instructed, enable him to do without me. I nevertheless adhered to my agreement. I put the office in order, which was in the utmost con?- fusion, and brought his people by degrees, to pay atten- tion to their work, and to execute it in a more masterly manner. It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the con- dition of a purchased servant. He was not more than eighteen years of age ; and the following are the par- ticulars he gave me of himself. Born at Gloucester, he had been educated at a grammar school, and had distinguished himself among the scholars by his supe- rior style of acting, when they represented dramatic performances. He was member of a literary club in the town ; aild some pieces of his composition, in prose as well as in verse, had been inserted in the Gloucester papers. From hence he was sent to Oxford, where he remained about a year: but he was not contented, and wished above 70 THE LIFE OF all things to see London, and become an actor. At length having received fifteen guineas to pay his quar- ter's board, he decamped with the money from Oxford, hid his gown in a hedge, and travelled to London. There, having no friend to direct liim, he fell into bad company, soon squandered his fifteen guineas, could find mo way of being introduced to the actors, became contemptible, pawned his clothes, and was in want of bread. As he was walking along the streets, al- most famished with hunger, and not knowing what to do, a recruiting bill was put into his hand, which offered an Immediate treat and bounty-money to whoever was disposed to serve in America. He instantly repaired to the house of rendezvous, inlisted himself, was put on board a ship and conveyed to America, without ever writing to inform his parents what was become of him. His mental vivacity, and good natural dis- position, made him an excellent companion ; but he Avas indolent, thoughtless, and to the last degree im* prudent. John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I began to live very agreeably with the rest. They respected me, and the more so as they found Keimcr incapable of instruct- ing them, and as they learned something from me every day. We never worked on a Saturday, it being Kci- iner*s sabbath j so that I had two days a week for reading. I increased my acquaintance with persons of know- ledge and information in the town. Keimer himself treated me with great civility, and apparent esteem ; ^nd I had nothing to give me uneasiness but my debt to Vernon, which I was unable to pay, my savings as yet being very little. He had the goodness, however, not to ask me for the money. Our press was frequently in want of the necessary quantity of letter ; and there was no such trade as that of letter-founder in America. I had seen the practice of this art at the house of James, in London ; but had at the same time paid it very little attention. I how- ever contrived to fabricate a mould. I nasvde use of DR. FRANKLIN, 71 such letters as we had for punches, founded new letters of lead in matrices of clay, and thus supplied in a tolerable manner, the wants that were most pressing. I also, upon occasion, engraved various ornaments, made ink, gave an eye to the shop ; in short, I was in every respect the /actotU7n. But useful as I made my- self, 1 perceived that my services became every day of Jess importance, in proportion as the other men im- proved ; and when Keimerpaid me my second quarter*s wages, he gave me to understand that they were too heavy, and that he thought I ought to make an abate- ment. He became by degrees less civil, and assumed more the tone of master. He frequently found fault, was difficult to please, and seemed always on the point of coming to an open quarrel with me. I continued, however, to bear it patiently, conceiv- ing that his ill humour was partly occasioned by the derangement and embarrassment of his affairs. At last a slight incident broke our connection. Hearing a noise in the neighbourhood, I put my head out of the window to see what was the matter. Keimer being in the street observed me, and in a loud and angry tone told me to mind my work ; adding some reproachful words, which piqued me the more as they were uttered in the street, and the neighbours, whom the same noise had attracted to the windows, were witnesses of the manner in which I was treated. He immediately came up to the printing-room, and continued to ex- claim against me. The quarrel became warm on both sides, and he gave me notice to quit him at the expi- ration of three months, as had been agreed between us ; regretting that he was obliged to give me so long a term. I told him that his regret was superfluous, as I was ready to quit him instantly ; I took my hat and came out of the house, begging Meredith to take care of some things which I left, and bring them to my lodgings. Meredith eame to me in the evening. VVe talk' ed for some time upon the quarrel that had taken place ^ 72 THE LIFE OF He had conceived a great veneration for me, and was sorry I should quit the house while he remained in it. He dissuaded me from returning; to my native country, as I began to think of doing. He reminded me that Keimer owed more than he possessed ; that his credi- tors began to be alarmed ; that he kept his shop in a wretched state, often selling things at prime cost for the sake of ready money, and continually giving cre- dit without keeping any accounts ; that of consequence he must very soon fail, which would occasion a vacancy from which I might derive advantage. I objected my want of money. Upon which he informed me that his father had a very high opinion of me, and, from a conversation that had passed between them, he was sure that he would advance whatever might be ne- cessary to establish us, if I was willing to enter into partnership with him. " My time with Keimer," add- ed he, " will be at an end next spring. In the mean- time we may send to London for our press and types, I know that I am no workman ; but if you agree to the proposal, your skill in the business will be balanced by the capital I will furnish, and we will share the pro- fits equally.'* His proposal was reasonable, and 1 fell in with it. His father who was then in the town, approved of it. He knew that I had some ascendency over his son, as I had been able to prevail on him to abstain a long time from drinking brandy; and he hoped, that wheft more closely connected with him, I should cure him entirely of this unfortunate habit. I gave the father a list of what would be necessa- ry to import from London. He took it to a mer- chant, and the order was given. We agreed to keep the secret till the arrival of the materials, and I was in the mean time to procure work if possible, in ano- ther printing-house ; but there was no place vacant, and I remained idle. After some days, Keimer hav- ing the expectation of being employed to print some New Jersey money-bills, that would require types and engravings which I only could furnish, and fearful that Bradford by engaging me, might deprive him of the DR. FRANKLIN. 73 undertaking, sent me a very civil message, telling me that old friends ought not to be disunited on account of a few words, which were the effect only of a momenta- ry passion, and invited me to return to him. Meredith persuaded me to comply with ihe invitation, particularly as it would afford him more opportunities of improving himself in the business by means of my instructions. I did so, and we lived upon better terms than before our separation. He obtained the New-Jersey business : and in order to execute it, I constructed a copper-plate printing- press ; the first that had been seen in the country. I engraved various ornaments and vignettes for the bills ; and we repaired to Burlington together, where 1 exe- cuted the whole to the general satisfaction ; and he received a sum of money for this work, which enabled him to keep his head above water for a considerable time longer. At Burlington I formed acquaintance with the prin- cipal personages of the province ; many of whom were commissioned by the assembly to superintend the press, and to see that no more bills were printed than the law had prescribed. Accordingly they were constant- ly with us, each in his turn ; and he that came com- monly brought with him a friend or two to bear him company. My mind was more cultivated by reading than Keimer*s; and it was for this reason probably, that they set more value on my conversation. They took me to their houses, introduced me to their friends, and treated me with the greatest civility ; while Kei- mer, though master, saw himself a little neglected. He was, in fact, a strange animal, ignorant of the com- mon modes of life, apt to oppose with rudeness general- ly received opinions, an enthusiast in certain points of religion, disgustingly unclean in his person, and a little knavish withal. We remained there nearly three months ; and at the expiration of this period I could include in the list of my friends, Judge Allen, Samuel Bustil, secre- tary of the province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, G V4 THE LIFE OF several of the Smiths, all members of the assemblvj and Isaac Deacon, inspector-general. The last was a shrewd and subtle old man. He told me, that, when a boy, his first employment had been that of carrying clay to brick-makers ? that he did not learn to write till he was some what advanced in life ; that he was afterwards employed as an underling to a surveyor, who taught him his trade, and that by industry he had at last acquired a competent fortune. " I fore- see," said he one day to me, *' that you will soon sup- plant this man.'* speaking of Keimer, " and get a for- tune in the business at Philadelphia." He was to- tally ignorant at the time of my intention of establish- ing myself there, or any where elbe. These friends were very serviceable to me in the end, as was I also Upon occasion to some of them ; and they have continued ever since their esteem for me. Before I relate the particulars of my entrance into bu- siness, it may be proper to inform you what was at that time the state of my mind as to moral principles, that you may see the degree of influence they had upon the subsequent events of my life. My parents had given me betimes religious impres- sions ; and I received from my infancy a pious educa- tion in the principles of Galvanism. But scarcely was I arrived at fifteen years of age, when, after having doubted in turn of different tenets, according as I found them combated in the different books that I r.ead, I began to doubt of revelation itself. Some volumes against deism fell into my hands. They were said to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lecture. It happened that they produced on me an effect pre- cisely the reverse of what was intended by the writers ; for the arguments of the deists, which were cited in order to be refuted, appeared to me much more forci- ble than the refutation itself. In a word, I jBoon be- came a perfect deist. My arguments perverted some other young persons; particularly Collins and Ralph. But in the sequel, when I recollected that they had both used me extremely ill, without the smallest re- DR. FRANKLIN. 75 morse ; when I considered the behaviour of Keith, another freethinker, and my own conduct towards Ver- non and Miss Reed, which at times gave me much uneasiness, I was led to suspect that tliis doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. I be- gan to entertain a less favourable opinion of my London pamphlet, to which I had prefixed, as a motto, the fol- lowing lines of Dryden ; Whatever is, is right ; tho* purblind man, Sees but part of the chain, the nearest link. His eyes nut carrying to the equal beam Thai' poises all above. and of which the object was to prove, from the attri- butes of God, his goodness, wisdom, and power, that there could b^no such thing as evil in the world ; that vice and virtue did not in reality exist and were no- thing more than vain distinctions. I no longer re- garded it as so blameless a work as I had formerly ima- gined ; ^nd I suspected that some error must have im- perceptibly glided into my argument, as all the inferences I had drawn from it had been affected, as fre- quently happens, in metaphysical reasonings. In a word, I was at last convinced that truth, probity, and sincerity, in transactions between man and man, were of the utmost importance to the happiness of life: and I re- solved from that moment, and wrote the resolution in my journal, to practice ihera as long as I lived. Revelation indeed, as such, had no influence on my mind ; but I was of opinion that, though certain actions could not be bad merely because revelation pro- hibited them, or good because it enjoined them, yet it was probable that those actioiis were prohibited be- cause they were bad for us, or enjoined because ad- vantageous in their nature, all things considered. The persuasion, divine IVovidence, or some guardian angel, and perhaps concurrence of favourable circumstances co-operating, preserved me from all immorality, or gross and voLantary injustice, to which my want of religion ys THE LIFE ar calculated to expose me, in the danj^erous period of youih and in the hazardous situations in which I sometimes found myself, among strangers, and at a dis- tance from the eye and admonitions of my father. I may say -voluntary^ because the errors into which I hud fallen, had been in a manner the forced result either of my own inexperience, or the dishonesty of others. Thus, before I entered on my new career, I had imbibed solid principles, and a character of probity. I knew their value ; I made solemn engagements with myself never to depart from them. I had not long returned from Burlington before ohp printing materials arrived from London. I settled my accounts with Keimer, and quitted him, with his own consent, before he had any knowledge of our plan. We found a house to let near the market. We took it ; and to render the rent less burtWnsome (it was then twenty-four pounds a-year, but I have since known it to let for seventy,) we admitted Thomas Godfry, a glazier, with his family, who eased us of a considerable part of it ; and with him we ^reed to board. We had no sooner unpacked our letter, and put our press in order, than a person of my acquaintance George House, brought us a countryman, whom he had met in the streets enquiring for a printer. Our money was almost exhausted by the number of things we had been obliged to procure. The five shillings we received from this countryman, the first fruit of our earnings, coming so seasonably, gave me more plea- sure than any sum I have since gained ; and the recol- lection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to George House, has rendered me often more disposed, than per- haps I should otherwise have been, to encourage young beginners in trade. There are in every country morose beings, who are always prognosticating ruin. There was one of this stamp in Philadelphiu. He was a man of fortune, de- clined in years, had an air of wisdom, and a very grave manner of speaking. His name was Samuel Mickle. DR. FRANKLIN. 77 I knew him not ; but he stopped one day at my door, and asked me if I was the young man who had lately sat up a new printing house. On my answering in the affirmative, he said that he was very sorry for me, as it was an expensive undertaking, and the money that had been laid out upon it would be lost, Philadelphia bein^ a place falling into decay ; its inhabitants having all or nearly all of them, been obliged to call together their creditors. That he knew from undoubted fact, the circumstances which might lead us to suppose the contrary, such as new buildings and the advanced price of rent, to be deceitful appearances, which in real- ity contributed to hasten the general ruin ; and he gave me so long a detail of misfortunes, actually existing, or which were soon to take place, that he left me almost in a state of despair. Had I koown this man before I entered into trade, I should doubtless never have ven- tured. He, however, continued to live in this place of decay, and to declaim in the same style, refusing for many years to buy a house, because ail was going to wreck ; and in the end I had the satisfaction to see him pay five times as much for one as it would cost him had he purchased it when he first began his lamen- tations. I ought to have related, that, during the autumn of the preceding year, I had united the majority of well-informed persons of my acquaintance into a club which we called by the name of the Junto, and the object of which was to improve our undertandings. We' met every Friday evening. The regulations I drew up, obliged every member to propose, in his turn one or more questions upon some point of morality, po-' litics, or philosophy, which were to be discussed by the society ; and to read once in three months, an essay* of his own covnpo^iition, on whatever subject he plea- sed. Our deba'es were under the direction of a presi- dent, and were to be dictated only by a sincere desire' of truth ; the pleasure of disputing, and the vanity of triumph having no share in the business ; and in order to prevent undue warmth, every expression which im- G 2 TB THE LIFE OF plied obstinate adherence to an opinion and all direct condradictions, were prohibited under small pecuniary penalties. The first members of our club were Joseph Breintnali whose occupation was that of a scrivener. He was a middle-aged man, of a good natural disposition, strongly attached to his friends, a great lover of poetry, reading every thing that came in his way, and writing tolerably well, ingenious in many little trifles, and of an agreeable conversation. Thomas Godfrey, a skilful, though self-taught mathe» matician, and who was afterwards the inventor of what now goes by the name of Hadley's dial ; but he had lit- tle knowledge out of his own line, and was insupporta- ble in company, always requiring, like the majority of mathematicians that have fallen in my way, an unusual precision in every thing that is said, continually contra- •dicting or making trifling distinctions ; a sure way of defeating all the ends of conversation. He very soon ■left tjs. Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became after- wards surveyor-general. He was fond of books, and wrote verses. William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a shoe- maker, but who having a taste for reading, had acquired a profound knowledge of mathematics. Hie first stu* died them with a view to astrology, and was afterwards the first to laugh at his folly. He also became surveyor- general. William Mawgridge, a joiner, and a very excellent mechanic ; and in other repects a man of solid under- standing. Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, •f whom 1 have already spoken. Bobert Grace, a young man of fortune ; generous, animated, and witty ; fond of epigrams, but more fond •f his friends. And lastly, William Coleman, at that time a merchant's clerk, and nearly of my own age He had a cooler and clearer head) a better heart, and moi^ scrupulous mo* DK. FRANKLIN. 79 rals, than almost any other person I have ever met with. He became a very respectable merchant, and one of our provincial judges. Our friendship subsisted, without interruption for more than forty years, till the period of his death ; and the club continued to exist almost as long. This was the best school of politics and philoso- phy that then existed in the province ; for our quota- tions which were read a week previous to their dis- cussion, induced us to peruse attentively such pieces as were written upon the subjects proposed, that we might be able to speak upon them more pertinent- ly. We thus acquired the habit of conversing more agreeably ; every object being discussed conformably to our regulations, and in a manner to prevent mutual disgust. To this circumstance may be attributed the long duration of the club ; which I shall have frequent occasion to mention as I proceed. I have introduced it here, as being one of the means, on which I had to count for success in my business ; every member exerting himself to procure work for us. Breintnal, among others, obtainerl for us, on the part of the Quakers, the printing of for- ty sheets of their history ; of which the rest was to be done by Keimer. Our execution of this work was by no means masterly; as the price was very low. It was in folio, upon firo fiatria paper, and in the pica letter, with heavy notes in the smallest type. I composed a sheet a day, and Meredith put it to the press. It was frequently eleven o'clock at night, sometimes later, before I had finished my distribu-' tion for the next day's task ; for the liitle things which' our friends occasionally sent us, kept us back in this work : but I was so determined to compose a sheet a' day, that one evening, when my form was imposed, and my day's work, as I thought, at an end, an accident hay- ing broken this form, and deranged two complete folio pages, I immediately distributed) and composed them anew before I went to bed. to THE LIFE .Oi This unwearied industry^, which was perceived tjy our neighbours, began to acquire us reputation and credit. 1 learned among othei; things, that our new printing- house being the subject of conversation at a club of merchants, who met every evening, it was the general opinion that it would fail ; theie being already two print- ing houses in the town, Keimer*s and Bradford's. But Dr. B^rd, whom you and I had occasion to see, many years after, at his native town of St. Andrews in Scot- land was of a different opinion. " The incUsstry of this Franklin (said he) is superior to any thing oi the kind I have ever witnessed. I see him still at work when I return from the club at night, and he is at it again in the morning before his neighbours are out of bed.*' This account struck the rest of the assembly, and shortly after one of its members came to our house, and ofi'ered to supply us with articles of stationary ; but we wished not as yet to embarrass ourselves with keeping a shop. It is not for the sake of applause that I enter so freely into the paniculars of my industry, but that such of my des- cendants as shall read these memoirs may know the use of this virtue, by seeing in the recital of my life the effects it operated in my f:AVour. George Webb, having found a friend who lent him the necessary sum to buy out his time of Kcimer, came one day to oifer himself to us as a journeyman. We could not employ him immediately ; but I foolishly told him under the rose, that I intended shortly to publish a new periodical paper, and that we should then have work for him. My hopes of success which I imparted to him, were founded on the circumstance, that the only paper we had in Philadelphia at that time, and which Bradford printed, was a paltry thing, miserably conducted, in no respect amusing, and which yet was profitable. I consequently supposed that a good work of this kind could not fail of success. Webb betrayed my secret to Keimer, who, to prevent me, immediate- ly published the prospectus of a paper that he intended to institute himself, and in which Webb was to be en- gaged. BH. FRANKLIN. 1^% I 'was exasperated at this proceeding, and, with a view to counteract them, not being able at pre- sent to institute my own paper, I wrote some hu- morous pieces in Bradford's, under the title of the Busy Body ;* and which was continued for seve- ral months by Breintnal. I hereby fixed the at- tention of the public upon Bradford's paper, and the prospectus of Keimcr, which we turned into ridicule, was treated with contempt. He began, notwithstanding, his paper ; and after continuing it for nine months, hav- ing at most not more than ninety subscribers, he offered it to me for a mere trifle. I had for some time been ready for such an engagement; I therefore instantly took it upon myself, and in a few years it proved ex- tremely profitable to me. I perceive that I am apt to speak in the first person, though our partnership still continued. It is perhaps, because, in fact, the whole business de- volved upon me. Meredith was no compositor, and but an indifferent pressman: and it was rarely that he abstained from hard drinking. My friends were sorry to see me coimected with him ; but I contrived to derive from it the utmost advantage the case admit- ted. Our first number produced no t)ther eifect than any 'other paper which had appeared in the province, as to type and printing ; but some remarks, in my peculiar style of writing, upon the dispute which then prevailed between governor Burnet, and the Massachusetts assembly, struck some persons as above mediocrity, caused the paper and its editors to be talked of, and in a few weeks induced them to be- come our subscribers. Many others followed their example ; and our subscription continued to increase. This was one of the first good effects of the pains I • A manuscript note in the file of the American Mercury, pre- served in the Philadelphia library, says, that Franklin wrote the fipst five numbers and part of the eighth. 82 THE LIFE OF had taken to learn to put my ideas on paper. I derived this fartiier advantage from it, that the leading men of the place, seeing in the author of this publication a man so well able to use his pen, thought it right to patronise and encourage me. The votes* laws, and other public pieces, were print- ed by Bradford. An address of the house of assembly to tlie governor, had been executed by him in a very coarse and incorrect manner. We repiinted it with ac- curacy and neatness, and sent a copy to every member. They perceived the difference ; and it so strengthen- ed the influence of our friends in the assembly, that we were nominated its printer for the following year. Among these friends I ought not to forget one mem- ber in particular, Mr. Hamilton, whom I have mention- ed in a former part of my narrative, and who was now re- turned from England. He warmly interested himself for me on this occasion, as he did likewise on many others afterwards ; having continued his kindness to me till his death. About this period, Mr. yernon reminded me of the debt I owed him, but without pressing me for pay- ment. 1 wrote him a handsome letter on the occa- sion, begging him to wait a little longer, to which he consented; and, as soon as I was able, I paid him prin- ciple and interest, with many expressions of gratitude ; so that this error of my life was in a manner atoned for. But another trouble now happened to me, which I had not the smallest reason to expect. Meredith's fa- ther, who, according to our agreement, was to defray the whole expence of our printing materials, had only paid a hundred pouncis. Another hundred was still due, and the merchan: being tired of w^aiting, com- menced a suit against us. We bailed the action, but with the melancholy prospect, that, if the money was not forthcoming at the time fixed, the affair would come to issue, judgment be put in execution, our de- lightful hopes be annihilated, and ourselves entirely ruin- DR. FRANKLIN. $3 cd ; as the type and press must be sold, perhaps at half their value to pay the debt. In this distress, two real friends, whose generous conduct I have never forgotten, and never shall forget while I retain the remembrance of any thing, came to me separately, without the knowledge of each other, and without my having applied to them. Each offered me whatever sum might be necessary to take the busi- ness into my own hands, if the thing was practicable, as they did not like I should continue in partnership with Meredith, who, they said, was frequently seen drunk in the streets, and gambling at ale-houses, which very much injured our credit. These friends were William Coleman and Robert Grace. I told them that while there remained any probability that the Merediths would fulfil their part of the compact, I could not propose a separation ; as I conceived myself to be under obligations to them for what they had done already, and were still disposed to do if they had the power : but in the end should they foil in their en- gagement, and our partnership be dissolved, I should then think myself at liberty to accept the kindness of my friends. Things remained for some time in this state. At last I said one day to my partner, '' your father is per- haps dissatisfied with your having a share only in the business, and is unwilling to do for two, what he would do for you alone. Tell me frankly if that be the case, and I will resign the whole to you, and do for myself as well as I can.'* — " No (said he) my father has real- ly been disappointed in his hopes; he is not able to pay, and I wish to put him to no further inconvenience. I see that I am not at all calculated for a printer ; t was educated as a farmer, and it was absurd in me to come here, at thirty years of age, and bind myself ap- prentice to a new trade. Many of my countrymen arc going to settle in North Carolina, where the soil is exceedingly favourable. I am tempted to go with them, and to resume my former occupation. You will doubtless find friends who will assist you. If you will 84 THE LIFE OF take upon yourself the debts of the partnership, return my father the hundred pounds he has advanced, pay my little personal debts, and give me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I will renounce the partnership, and con* sign over the whole stock to you." 1 accepted this proposal without hesitation. It was committed to paper, and signed and sealed without de» lay. I gave him what he demanded, and he departed soon after for Carolina, from whence he sent me, in the following year, two long letters, containing the best accounts that had yet been given of that country, as to climate, soil, agriculture, &c. for he wlas well versed in these matters. I published them in my newspaper, and they were received with great satisfac- tion. As soon as he was gone I applied to my two friends, and not wishing to give a disobliging preference to ci- ther of them, I accepted from each half what he had offered me, and which it was necessary I should have. I paid the partnership debts, and continued the business on my own account ; taking care to inform the public by advertisement, of the partnership being dissolved. This was, I think, in the year 1729, or thereabout. Nearly at the same period the people demanded a new emission of paper money : the existing and only one that had taken place in the province, and which amounted to fifteen thousand pounds, being soon to ex- pire. The wealthy inhabitants, prejudiced against eve- ry sort of paper currency, from the fear of its depre- ciation, of which there had been an instance in the province of New-England, to the injury of its holders, strongly opposed the measure. We had discussed the affair in our junto, in which I was on the side of the new emission ; convinced that the first small sum fa- bricated in 1723, had done much good in the province, by favouring commerce, industry and population, since all the houses were now inhabited, and many others building ; whereas I remembered to have seen, when first I paraded the streets of Philadelphia eating my roll, the majority of those in Walnut-Street, Second^Street^ DR. FIIANKLIN. 8d Fourth-Street, as well as a great number in Chesnut and other streets, with papers on them signifying that they were to be let ; which made me think at the time that the inhabitants of the town were deserting it one after another. Our debates made me so fully master of the subject, that I wrote and published an anonymous pamphlet, entitled An Enquiry into the Nature and necessity of a Paper Currency. It was very well received by the lower and middling class of people ; but it displeased the opulent, as it increased the clamour in favour of the new emission. Having, however, no writer among- them capable of answering it ; there opposition became less violent ; and there being in the house of assembly a majority for the measure, it passed. The friends I had acquired in the house, persuaded that I had done the country essential service on this occasion, rewarded me by giving me the printing of the bills. It was a lucrative employment, and proved a very seasonable help to me ; another advantage which I derived from having habituated myself to write. Time and experience so fully demonstrated the uti- lity of paper currency, that it never after experienced any considerable opposition ; so that it soon amounted to 55,0001. and in the year 1739 to 80,0001. It has since risen, during the last wai', to 350,0001, trade, buildings and population having in the interval conti- nually increased ; but I am now convinced that tiiere are limits, beyond which, paper money would be pre- judicial. I soon after obtained, by the influence of my friend Hamilton, the printing of the Newcastle paper money, another profitable work, as I then thought it, little things appearing great to persons of moderate fortune; and they were really great to me, as proving great en- couragements. He also procured me the printing of the laws and votes of that government which I retained as long as I continued in the business. I now opened a small stationer's shop. I kept bonds and agreements of all kinds, drawn up in a more accu- H 86 THE LIFE OF rate form than had yet been seen in that part of the world : a work in which I was assisted by my fiieiul Brientnal. I had also paper, parchment, pasteboard, books, &c. One Whitemash, an excellent compositor, whom I had known in London, came to ofier himself. I engaged him, and he continued constantly and dili- gently to work with me. I also took an apprentice, the son of Aquila Rose, I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had contract- ed ; and in order to insure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not only to be really indus- trious and frugal, but also to avoid every appearance of the contrary. I was plainly dressed, and never seen in any place of public amusement. I never went a fishing or hunting. A book indeed inticed me some- limes from my work, but it was seldom, by stealth, and occasioned no scandal ; and to show that 1 did not think myself above my profession, I conveyed home some- times in a wheelbarrow the paper I purchased at the warehouses, I thus obtained the reputation of being an indus- trious young man, and very punctual in his payments. The merchants who imported articles of stationary, so- licited my custom ; others offered to furnish me with books, and my little trade went on prosperously. Meanwhile the credit and business of Keimer dimi- nished every day, he was at last forced to sell his stock to satisfy his creditors ; and he betook himself to Bar- badoes, where he lived for some time in a very impo- verished state. His apprentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed while I worked with Keimer, having bought his materials, succeeded him in the business. I Avas apprehensive, at first, of finding in Harry a power- ful competitor, as he was allied to an opulent and re- spectable family ; I therefore proposed a partnership, which happily for me, he rejected with disdain. He was extremely proud, thought himself a fine gentle- man, lived extravagantly, and pursued amusements which suffered him to be scarcely ever at home • of consequence he became in debt, neglected his business. DR. FRANKLIN. Q7 and business neglected him. Findin?^ in a short time pothing to do in the country, he followed Keimer to Barbadoes, carrying his printing materials with him. There the apprentice enjployed his old master as a journeyman. They were continually quarrelling ; and Harry still getting in debt, was oblig:cd at last to sell his press and types, and return to his old occupation of husbandry in Pennsylvania. The person who pur- chased them employed Keimer to manage the business; but he died a few years after. I had now at Philadelphia no competitor but Brad- ford, who, being in easy circumstances, did not engage in the Printing of books, except now and then as work- men chanced to offer themselves ; and was not anxious to extend his trade. He had, however, one advan- tage over me, as he had the direction of the post-office, and was of consequence supposed to have better oppor- tunities of obtaining news. His paper was also sup- posed to be more advantageous to advertising custom- ers ; and in consequence of that supposition, his adver- tisements were much more numerous than mine : this was a source of great profit to him, and disadvantage- ous to me. It was to no purpose that I really procur- ed other papers, and distributed my own, by means of the post ; the public took for granted my inability in this respect ; and I was indeed unable to conquer it in any other mode than by bribing the post-boys, who served me only by stealth, Bradford being so illiberal as to forbid them. — This treatment of his excited my resentment ; and my disgust was so rooted, that, when 1 afterwards succeeded him in the post-ofFice, I took care to avoid copying his example. I had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey, who, with his wife and children, occupied part of my house, and half of the shop for his business ; at which indeed he worked very little, being always absorbed by mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey formed a wish of marry- ing me to the daughter of one of her relations. She contrived various opportunities of bringing us together, till she saw that I was captivated ; which was not dif- ^8 THB LIFE OF licult the lady in question possessing great personal merit. The parents encouraged my addresses, by in- viting me continually to supper, and leaving us toge- ther, till at last it was time to come to an explanation. Mrs. Godfrey undertook to negociate our Httle treaty. I gave her to understand, that 1 expected to receive with the young lady a sum of money that would ena- ble me at least to discharge the remainder of my debt for my printing materials. It was then, I believe, not more than a hundred pounds. She brought me for answer, that they had no such sum at their disposal. I observed that it might easily be obtained, by a mort- gage on their house. The reply of this was, after a few days interval, that they did not approve of the match ; that they had consulted Bradford, and found that the business of a printer was not lucrative ; that my letters would soon be worn out, and must be sup- plied with new ones ; that Keimer and Harry had failed, and that, probably, I should do so too. Accordingly they forbade me the house, and the young lady was confined. I know not if they had really changed their minds, or if it was merely an artifice, supposing our af- fections to be too far engaged for us to desist, and that we should contrive to marry secretly, which would leave them at liberty to give or not as they pleased. But, suspecting this motive, I never went again to their house. Some time after Mrs. Godfrey informed me that they were favourably disposed towards me, and wished Tne to renew the acquaintance ; but I declared a firm resolution never to have any thing more to do with the family. The Godfrey's expressed some resentment at this ; and as we could no longer agree, they changed 0eir residence, leaving me in possession of the whole house. I then resolved to take no more lodgers. This affair having turned my thoughts to marriage, I look- ed around mc, and made overtures of alliance in other quarters ; but I soon found that the profession of a printer being generally looked upon as a poor trade, I could expect no money with a wife, at least if I wish- DR. FRANKOLIN. 89 «d her to possess any other charm. Meanwhile, that passion of youth, so difficult lo govern, had often drawn me into intrigues with desp. cable women, who fell in my way ; which were not unaccompanied with ex- pence and inconvenience, besides the perpetual risk of injuring my health, and catching a disease which I dreaded above all things. But 1 was fortunate enough to escape this danger. As a neighbour and old acquaintance, I kept up a friendly intimacy with the family of Miss Read. Her parents had retained an affection for me from the time of my lodging in their house. I was often invited thither ; they consulted me about their affairs, and I had been sometimes serviceable to them I was touch- ed with the unhappy situation of their daughter, who was almost always melancholy, and continually seeking solitude. I regarded my forgeifulness and inconstancy, during my abode in London, as the principal-cause of her misfortune ; though her mother had the candour to attribute the fault to herself, rather than to me, be- cause after having prevented our marriage previous to my departure she had induced her to marry another in my absence. Our mutual affection revived ; but there existed great obstacles to our union. Her marriage was con- sidered, indeed, as not being valid, the man having, it was said, a former wife still living in England ; but of this it was difficult to obtain a proof at so great a distance ; and though a report prevailed of his being dead, yet we had no certainty of it ; and supposing it to be true, he had left many debts, for the payment of which his successor might be sued. We ventured neverthe- less, in spite of all these difficulties, and I married her on the first of September 1720. None of the inconve- niences we had feared happened to us; she proved to me a good and faithful companion, and contributed essen- tially to the success of my shop. We prospered to- gether, and it was our mutual study to render each H 2 9^0 THE LIFE OF Other happy. Thus I corrected, as well as I could, this great error of my youth. Our club was not at that time established at a tavern. We held our meetings at the house of Mr. Grace who appropriated a room to the purpose. Some member observed one day, that as our books were fre- quently quoted in the course of our discussions, it would be convenient to have them collected in the room in which we assembled, in order to be consulted upon occasion; and that, by thus forming a common library of our individual collections, each would have the advantage of using the books of all the other members, which would nearly be the same as if he possessed them all himself. The idea was approved, and we according- ly brought such books as we thought we could spare, which were placed at the end of the club-room. They amounted not to so many as we expected ; and though we made considerable use of them, yet some inconve- niencies resulting, from want of care, it was agreed, after about a year, to destroy the collection ; and each took away such books as belonged to him. It was now that I first stated the idea of establishing, by subscription, a public library. I drew up the pro- posals, had them in grossed in form by Brockden the attorney, and my project succeeded, as will be seen in the sequel ♦***•♦ [The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself, so far as it has been communicated to the world, breaks off in this place. We understand that it was conti- nued by him somewhat further, and we hope that the remainder will, at some future period, be communica- ted to the public. We have no hesitation in suppo- sing that every reader will find himself greatly interest- ed by the frank simplicity and the philosophical dis- cernment by which these pages are so eminently cha- racterised. We have therefore thought proper, in DR. FRANKLIK. 91 order as much as possible to relieve this regret, to sub- join the following continuation, by one of the doctor's intimate friends. It is extracted from an American periodical publication, and was written by the late Dr. btuber* of Philadelphia.] m HE promotion of literature had been little at- tended to in Pennsylvania. Most of the inhabitants were too much immersed in business to think of scientific pursuits ; and those few, whose inclinations led them to study, found it difficult to gratify them, from the want of sufficiently large libraries. In such circumstances, the establishment of a public library was an important event. This was first set on foot by Franklin, about the year 1731. Fifty persons sub- scribed forty shillings each, and agreed to pay ten • Dr. Sluber was horn in Philadelphia, of German parents. He was sent, at an early ac^e, to the university, where his genius, diligence, and amiable temper soon acquired him particular notice and favour of those under whose immediate direction he was pla- ced. After passing through the common course of study, in a much shorter time than usual, he left the university, at the age of sixteen, with great reputation. Not long after, he entered on the study of Physic ; and the zeal with which he pursued it, and the advances he made, gave his friends reason to form the most flat- tering prospects of his future eminence and usefulness in the pro- fession. As Dr. Stuber's circumstances were very moderate, he did not think this pursuit well calculated to answer them. He therefore relinquished it, after he had obtained a degree in the pro- fession, and qualified himself to practise with credit and success: and immediately entered on the study of Law. In pursuit of the last mentioned object, he was prematurely arrested, beibre he had an opportunity of reaping the fruit of those talents with which he was endowed, and of a youth spent in the ardent and successful pursuit of useful and elegant Uterature. 52 THE LIFE OF shillings annually. The number increased ; and in 1742, the company was incorporated by the name of *' The Library Company of Philadelphia." Several other companies were formed in this city in imitation of it. These were all at length united with the li- brary company of Philadelphia, which thus received a considerable accession of books and property. It now contains about eight thousand volumes upon all sub- jects, a philosophical apparatus, and a good beginning towards a collection of natural and artificial curiosities, besides landed property of considerable value. The company have lately built an elegant house in Fifth- street, in the front of which will be erected a marble statue of their founder, Benjamin Franklin. This institution was greatly encouraged i)y the friends of literature in America and in Great Britain. The Penn family distinguished themselves by their dona- tions. Amongst the earliest friends of this institution must be mentioned the late Peter Collinson, the friend and correspondent of Dr. Franklin. He not only made considerable presents himself, and obtained others from his friends, but voluntarily undertook to manage the business of the company in London, recommending books, purchasing and shipping them. His extensive knowledge, and zeal for the promotion of science? ena- bled him to execute this important trust with the great- est advantage. He continued to perform these servi- ces for more than thirty years, and uniformly refused to accept of any compensation. During this time, he communicated to the directors every information rela- tive to improvements and discoveries in the arts, agri- culture, and philosophy. The beneficial influence of this institution was soon evident. The cheapness of terms rendered it accessi- ble to every one. Its advantages were not confined to the opulent. The citizens in the middle and lower walks of life were equally partakers of them. Hence a degree of information was extended anaongst all class- DR. FRANKLIJC. 93 cs of pcopie, which is very unusual in other places, 'i'he example was soon followed. Libraries were esta- blished in various places, and they are now become very r.amerous in the United States, and particularly in Pennsylvania. It is to be hoped that they will be still more widely extended, and that information will be every where increased. This will be the best secu- rity f\)r maintaining our liberties. A nation of well informed men, who have been taught to know and prize the rights which God has given them, cannot be enslaved. It is in the regions of ignorance that ty- ranny reigns. It flics before the light of science. Let the citizens of America, then, encourage institutions calculated to diffuse knowledge amongst the people ; and amongst these, public libraries are not the least im- portant. In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Richard's Almanack. This was remarkable for the numerous and valuable concise maxims which it contained, all tending to exhort to industry and frugality. It was continued for many years. In the almanack for the last year all the maxims were collected in an address to the reader, entitled. The Way to Wealth. This has been translated into various languages, and inserted in different publications. It has also been printed on a large sheet, and may be seen framed in many houses in this city. This address contains, perhaps the best practical system of economy that ever has appeared. It is written in a manner intelligible to every one, and which cannot fail of convincing every reader of the justice and propriety of the remarks and advice which it contains. The demand for this almanack was so great, that ten thousand have been sold in one year ; which must be considered as a very large number, especially when we reflect, that this country was, at that time, but thinly peopled. It cannot be doubted that the salutary maxims contained in these almanacks must have made a f^svourable impression upon many of the readers of them. S4 THE LIFE OF It was not long beforie Franklin entered upon his po- litical career. In the year 1736 he was appointed clerk to the general assembly of Pennsylvania; and was re-t elected by the succeeding assemblies for several years, until he was chosen a representative for the city of Philadelphia. Bradford was possessed of some advantages over Franklin, by being postmaster, thereby having an op- portunity of circulating his paper more extensively, and thus rendering it a better vehicle for advertisements, &c. Franklin, in his turn, enjoyed these advantages, by be- ing appointed postmaster of Philadelphia in 1737. Brad- ford, while in office, had acted ungenerously towards Franklin, preventing as much as possible the circulation of his paper. He had now an opportunity of retaliating ; but his nobleness of soul prevented him from making use of it. The police of Philadelphia had early appointed watchmen, whose duty it was to guard the citizens against the midnight robber, and to give an immediate alarm in case of fire. This duty is perhaps, one of the most important that can be committed to any set of men. The regulations, however, were not sufficiently strict. Franklin saw the dangers arising from this cause, and suggested an alteration, so as to oblige the guardians of the night to be more watchful over the lives and property of the citizens. The propriety of this was immediately perceived, and a reform was effected. There is nothing more dangerous to growing cities than fires. Other causes operate slowly, and almost im- perceptibly, but these in a moment render abortive the labours of ages. On this account there should be, in all cities, ample provisions to prevent fires from spreading. Franklin early saw the necessity of these ; and, about the year 1738, formed the first fire-company in this city. This example was soon followed by others ; and there are now numerous fire companies in this city and liberties. To these may be attributed in a great degree the activity in extinguishing fires, for which the ciu« DR. FIIANKLIN. 95 zens of Philadelphia are distinguished, and the incon- siderable damage which this city has sustained from this cause. Some time after, Franklin suggested the plan of an association for insuring houses from losses by fire, which was adopted ; and the association continues to this day. The advantages experienced from it have been great. From the first establishment of Pennsylvania, a spirit of dispute appears to have prevailed amongst its inhabi- tants. During the life-time of William Penn the con- stitution had been three times altered. After this pe- riod, the history of Pennsylvania is little else than a re- cital of the quarrels between the proprietaries, or their governors, and the assembly. . The proprietaries con- tended for the right of exempting their land from taxes, to which the assen)bly would by no means consent. This subject of dispute interfered in almost every ques- tion, and prevented the most salutary laws from being enacted. This at limes subjected the people to great inconveniences. In the year 1744, during a war be- tween France and Great Britain, some French and In- dians had made inroads upon the frontier inhabitants of the province, who were unprovided for such an attack. It became necessary that the citizens should arm for their defence. Governor Thomas recommended to the assembly who were then sitting, to pass a militia law. To this they would agree only upon condition that he should give his assent to certain laws, which appeared to them calculated to promote the interest of the peo- ple. As he thought these laws would be injurious to the proprietaries he refused his assent to them ; and the assembly broke up without passing a militia law. The situation of the province was at this time truly alarming ; exposed to the continual inroads of an ene- my, and destitute of every means of defence. At this crisis Franklin stepped forth, and proposed to a meet- ing of the citizens of Philadelphia, a plan of a volun- tary association for the defence of the province. This was approved of, and signed by twelve hundred persons immediately. Copies of it were circulated throughout 96 THE LIFE 0¥ the province ; and in a short time the number of sign- ers amounted to ten thousand. Franklin was chosen colonel of the Philadelphia rej^iment ; but he did not think proper to accept of the honour. Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the great- est part of his attention for some years. He engaged in a course of electrical experiments, with all the ar- dour and thirst for discovery which characterized the philosophers of that day. Of all the branches of ex- perimental philosophy, electricity had been least ex- plored. The attractive power of amber is mentioned by Theophrastus and Pliny, and, from them, by later naturalists. In the year 1600, Gilbert, an English phy- sycian, enlarged considerably the catalogue of sub- stances which have the property of attracting light bo- dies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, a burgomaster of Mag- deburgh, celebrated as the inventor of the air pump, Dr. Wall, and sir Isaac Newton added some facts : Guericke first observed the repulsive power of elec- tricity, and the Jight and noise produced by it. In 1709, Hawkesbec communicated some important observations and experiments to the world. For seve- ral years electricity was entirely neglected, until Mr. Gray applied himself to it, in 1728, with great assidui- ty. He and his friend Mr. Wheeler, made a great va- riety of experiments ; in which they demonstrated that electricity may be communicated from one body to an- other, even without being in contact, and in this way may be conducted to a great distance. Mr. Gray af- terwards found, that by suspending rods of iron by silk or hair lines and bringing an excited tube under them, sparks might be drawn, and a light perceived at the extremities in the dark. M. Du Faye, intendant of the French King's gardens, made a number of experiments, which added not a little to the science. He made the discovery of two kinds of electricity, which he called vitreous and resinous ; the former produced by rubbing glass, the latter from excited sulphur, sealing wax, &c. But this idea he afterwards gave up as erroneous. Be- tween the year 1732 and 1749, Defaguliersmade anum- an. FRANKLIN. 97 ber of experiments, but added little of importance. He first used the terms conductors and electrics^ fier se. In 1742, several ingenious Germans engaged in this sub- ject. Of these the principle were, professor Boze of Whittemberg, professor Winkler of Leipsic, Gordon, a Scotch Benedictine monk, professor of philosophy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf of Berlin. The result of their researches astonished the philosophers of Europe. 1 heir apparatus was large, and by means of it they were en- abled to collect large quantities of electricity, and thus to produce phenomena which had been hitherto unob- served. They killed smalj birds, and set spirits on fire. Their experiments excited the curiosity of other phi- losophers. Collinson about the year 1745, sent to the library company of Philadelphia an account of these ex- periments, together with a tube, and directions how to use it. Franklin, with some of his friends, immediate- ly engaged in a course of experiments ; the result of which is well known. He was enabled to make a num- ber of important discoveries, and to propose theories to account for various phenomena ; which have been universally adopted, and which bid fair to endure for ages. His observations he communicated, in a series of letters, to his friend Collinson ; the first of which is dated March 28th, 1747. In these he makes known the power of points in drawing and throwing off the electrical matter, which had hitherto escaped the no- tice of electricians. He also made the grand discove- ry of a plus and minus^ or of a positive and negative state of electricity. We give him the honour of this, without hesitation ; although the English have claim- ed it for their countryman Dr. Watson. Watson's pa- per is dated January 21, 1748; Franklin's July 11, 1747; several months prior. Shortly after, Franklin, from his principles of plus and minus state, explained, in a sa- tisfactory manner, the phenomena of the Leyden phi- al, first observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by professor Mus- chenbroeck of Leyden, which had much perplexed phi- losophers. He showed clearly that the bottle, when charged, contained no more electricity than before, but I 98 THE LIFE OF that as much was taken from the one side as was thrown on the other-, and that, to discharge it noth- ing was necessary but to make a communication be- tween the two sides, by which the equilibrium might be restored, and that then no signs of electricity would remain. He afterwards demonstrated, by experiments, that the electricity did not reside in the coating, as had been supposed, but in the pores of the glass itself. After a phial was charged, he removed the coating, and found that upon applying a new coating the shock might still be received. In the year 1749, he first suggested his idea of explaining the phenomena of thundergusts, and of the aurora borealis, upon electrical principles. He points out many particulars in which lightning and elec- tricity agree ; and he adduces many facts, and reason- ing from facts, in support of his positions. In the same year he conceived the astonishingly bold and grand idea of ascertaining the truth of his doctrine, by actually drawing down the forked lightning, by means of sharp- pointed iron rods raised into the region of the clouds. Even in this uncertain state, his passion to be use- ful to mankind displays itself in a powerful manner. Admitting the identity of electricity and lightning, and knowing the power of points in repelling bodies charged with electricity, and in conducting their fire silently and imperceptibly, he suggests the idea of se- curing houses, ships, &c. from being damaged by light- ning, by erecting pointed iron rods, which should rise some feet above the most elevated part, and descend some feet into the ground or the water. The effect of these, he concluded, would be either to prevent a stroke by repelling the cloud beyond the striking distance, or by drawing off the electrical fire which it contained ; or, if they could not effect this, they would at least con- duct the stroke to the earth, without any injury to the building. It was not until the summer of 1752, that he was enabled to complete his grand and unparalleled disco- very by experiment. The plan which he had original- Da. FRANKLIN. 9^ ly proposed, was to erect on some high tower, or other elevated place, a centry-box, from which should rise a pointed iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a cake of resin. Electrified clouds passing over this, would he conceived, impart to it a portion of their electricity, which would be rendered evident to the senses by sparks being emitted, when a key, a knuckle, or other con- ductor, was presented to it. Philadelphia at this time afiForded no opportunity of trying an experiment of this kind. Whilst Franklin was waiting for the erection of a spire, it occurred to him, that he might have more rea- dy access to the region of clouds by means of a com- mon kite. He prepared one by attaching two cross sticks to a silk handkerchief, which would not suffer so much from the rain as paper. To his upright stick was fixed an iron point. The string was, as usual, of hemp, except the lower end, which was silk. Where the hempen string terminated, a key was fastened. With this apparatus, on the appearance of a thunder- gust approaching, he went into the commons, accom- panied by his son, to whom alone he communicated his intentions, well knowing the ridicule which too gene- rally for the interest of science, awaits unsuccessful experiments in philosophy. He placed himself under a shed to avoid the rain. His kite was raised. A thunder cloud passed over it. No signs of electricity appeared. He almost despaired of success ; when suddenly he observed the lo«se fibres of his string move towards an erect position. He now presented his knuckle to the key, and received a strong spark. How exquisite must his sensations have been at this moment ! On this experiment depended the fate of his theory. If he succeeded, his name would rank high amongst those who have improved science ; if he failed, he must inevitably be subjected to the derision of mankind, or, what is worse, their pity, as a well-meaning man, but a weak, silly pro- jector. The anxiety with which he looked for the re- sult of his experiment, may easily be conceived. Doubts and despair had begun to prevail, when the 100 THE LIFE OF fact was ascertained in so clear a manner, that even the most incredulous could no longer withhold their as- sent. Repeated sparks were drawn from the key, a phial was charged, a shock given, and all the experi- ments made, which are usually performed with electri- city. About a month before this |^riod some ingenious Frenchman had completed th^«iiscovery, in the man- ner originally proposed by Dr. Franklin. The letters which he sent to Mr. Collinson, it is said, were re- fused a place amongst the papers of the Royal Society of London. However, this may be, Collinson publish- ed them in a separate volume, under the title of JVeiu Exfieriments and Observations on Electricity^ made at Philadelfihia in America, They were read with avi- dity, and soon translated into different languages. A very incorrect French translation fell into the hands of the celebrated Buffon, who notwithstanding the dis- advantages under which the work laboured, was much pleased with it, and repeated the experiments, with suc- cess. He prevailed upon his friend, M. D'Alibard, to give his countrymen a more coirect translation of the work of the American electrician. This contri- buted much towards spreading a knowledge of Frank- lin's principles in France. — The king, Louis XV, hearing of these experiments expressed a wish to be a spectator of them. A course of experiments was given at the seat of the Due D'Ayen, at St. Germaine, by M. de Lor. The applauses which the king bestowed upon Franklin, excited in Buffon, D'Alibard, and De Lor, an earnest desire of ascertaining the truth of his theory of thunder-gusts. Buffon erected his ap- paratus on the tower of Montbar. M. D'Alibard at Mary-la-ville, and De Lor at his house in the Estra- fiade at Paris, som« of the highest ground in that capital. D*Alibard's machine first showed signs of electricity. On the tenth of May, 1752, a thunder cloud passed over it, in the absence of M. D*Alibard ; and a number of sparks were drawn from it by Coiffier, a joiner, with whom D'Alibard had left directions how DR. FRANKLIN. lOl to proceed, and by M. Raulet, the prior of Mary-la- ville. An account of this experiment was given to the Royal Academy of Sciences, in a memoir by M. D*Alibard, dated May 13th, 1752. On the 18th of May, M. De Lor proved equally successful with the apparatus erected at his own house. These discoveries soon excited the philosophers of other parts of Europe to repeat the experiment. Amongst these, none sig- nalized themselves more than father Beccaria of Tu- rin, to whose observations science is much indebted. Even the cold regions of Russia were penetrated by the ardor for discovery. Professor Richman bade fair to add much to the stock of knowledge on this subject, when an unfortunate flash from his rod put a period to his existence. — The friends of science will long re- member with regret the amirable martyr to electri- city. By these experiments Franklin's theory was esta- blished in the most firm manner. When the truth of it could no longer be doubted, the vanity of men en- deavoured to detract from its merit. That an Ame- rican, an inhabitant of the obscure city of Philadel- phia, the name of which was hardly known, should be able to make discoveries, and to frame theories, which had escaped the notice of the enlightened philosophers of Europe, was too mortifying to be admitted. He must certainly have taken the idea from somebody else. An American, a being of an inferior order, make dis- coveries 1 Impossible. It was said, that the Abbe Nollet, in 1 748, had suggested the idea of the similari- ty of lightning and electricity, in his Lecons de P/nj' sique. It is true, that the Abbe mentions the idea, but he throws it out as a bare conjecture, and proposes no mode of ascertaining the truth of it. He himself acknowledges that Franklin first entertained the bold tliought of bringing lightning from the heavens, by means of pointed rods fixed in the air. The similarity of electricity and lightning is so strong, that we need not be surprised at notice being taken of it, as soon as electrical phenomena became familiar. We find it 12 i02 THE LIFE OF mentioned by Dr. Wall and Mr. Gray, while the science was in its infancy. But the honour of forming a regular theory of thunder-gusts, of suggesting a mode of determining the truth of it by experiments, and of putting these experiments in practice, and thus esta- blishing his theory upon a firm and solid basis, is incon- testibly due to Franklin. D'Alibard, who made the ex- periments in France, says, that he only followed the track which Franklin had pointed out. It has been of late asserted, that the honour of com- pleting the experiment with the electrical kite does not belong to Franklin. Some late English para- graphs have attributed it to some Frenchman, whose name they did not mention ; and the Abbe Bertholon gives it to M. De Romas, assessor to the presideal of Nerac ; the English paragraphs probably refer to the same person. But a very slight attention will con- vince us of the injustice of this procedure : Ur. Frank- lin's experiment was made in June 1752 ; and his let- ter, giving an account of it, is dated October 19, 1752, M. De Romas made his first attempt on the 14th of May 1753, but was not successful until the 7th of June ; a year after Franklin had completed the dis- covery, and when it was known to all the philosophers in Europe. Besides these great principles, Franklin's letters on electricity contain a number of facts and hints, which have contributed greatly towards reducing this branch of knowledge to a science. His friend, Mr. Kinners- ly, communicated to him a discovery of the different kinds of electricity excited by rubbing glass and sul- phur. This, we have said, was first observed by M. Du Faye ; but it was for many years neglected. The philosophers were disposed to account for the pheno- mena, rather from a difference in the quantity of elec- tricity collected ; and even Du Faye himself seems at last to have adopted this doctrine. Franklin at first entertained the same idea; but upon repealing the ex- periments, he perceived that Mr. Kinnersley was right; and that the viiregus and resinous electricity of Du DR. fRANKLIK. 103 Faye were nothing more than the positive and nega^ tive states which he had before observed ; that the glass globe charged fiositiveli/j or increased the quantity of electricity on the prime conductor, whilst the globe of sulphur diminished its natural quantity, or charged ne- gatively. These experiments and observations opened a new field for investigation, upon which electricians entered with avidity; and their labours have added much to the stock of our knowledge. In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a course of experiments, to determine the state of electricity in the clouds. From a number of experiments he formed this conclusion : " that the clouds of a thunder-gust are most commonly in a negative state of electricity, but sometimes in a positive state ;" and from this it follows, as a necessary consequence, " that, for the most part, in thunder-strokes, it is the earth that strikes into the clouds, and not the clouds that strike into the earth." The letter containing these observations is dated in September, 1753; and yet the discovery of ascending thunder has been said to be of a modern date and has been attributed to the Abbe Bertholon, who published his memoir on the subject in 1776. Franklin's letters have been translated into most of the European languages, and into Latin. In propor- tion as they have become known, his principles have been adopted. Some opposition was made to his theo- ries, particularly by the Abbe Nollet, who was, how- ever, but feebly supported, whilst the first philosophers of Europe stepped forth in defence of Franklin's prin- ciples ; amongst whom D'Alibard and Beccaria were the most distinguished. The opposition has gradually ceased, and the Franklinian system is now universally adopted, where science flourishes. The important practical use which Franklin made of his discoveries, the securing of houses from injury by lightning, has been already mentioned. Pointed conductors are now very common in America ; but prejudice has hitherto prevented their general intro- duction into Europe, notwithstanding the most un- 104 THE LIFE O? doubted proofs of their utility have been given. But mankind can with difficulty be brought to lay aside established practices, or to adopt new ones. And per- haps we have more reason to be sur])rised that a prac- tice, however rational, which was proposed about for- ty years ago, should in that time have been adopted in so many places, than that it has not universally prevailed. It is only by degrees that the great body of mankind can be led into new practices, however salutary their tendency. It is now nearly eighty years since in- oculation was introduced into Europe and America ; and it is so far from being general at present, that it will, perhaps, require one or two centuries to render it so. In the year 174S, Franklin published an account of his new invented Pennsylvania fire-places, in which he ipinutely and accurately states the advantages and dis- advantages of different kinds of fire-places ; and en- deavours to shew that the one which he describes is to be preferred to any other. This contrivance has given rise to the open stoves now in general use, which how- ever differ from it in construction, particularly in not having an air-box at the back, through which a con- stant supply of air, warmed in its passage, is thrown into the room. The advantages of this are, that as a stream of warm air is continually flowing into the room, less fuel is necessary to preserve a proper temperature, and the room may be so tightened as that no air may enter through cracks ; the consequences of which are colds, toothaches &c. Although philosophy was a principle object of Frank- lin's pursuit for several years, he confined himself not to this. In the year 1747, he became a member of the general assembly of Pennsylvania, as a burgess for the city of Philadelphia. Warm disputes at this time subsisted between the assembly and the proprietaries ; each contending for what they conceived to be their just rights. Franklin, a friend to the rights of man from his infancy* soon distinguished himself as a steady opponent of the unjust schemes oi the proprietaries.-— DR. FRANKLIN. 165 He was soon looked up to as the head of the opposi- tion ; and to him have been attributed many of the spi- rited replies of the assembly, to the messages of the go- vernors. His influence in the body was very great. This arose not from any superior powers of eloquence ; he spoke but seldom, and he never was known to make any thing like an elaborate harrangue. His speeches often consisted of a single sentence, or of a well-told story, the moral of which was always obviously to the point. He never attempted the flowery fields of ora- tory. His manner was plain and mild. His style in speaking was, like that of his writings, remarkably concise. With this plain manner, and his penetrating and solid judgment, he was able to confound the most eloquent and subtle of his adversaries, to confirm the opinions of his friends, and to make converts of the unprejudiced who had opposed him. With a single observation, he has rendered of no avail an elegant and lengthy discourse, and determined the fate of a question of importance. But he was not contented with thus supporting the rights of the people. He wished to render them per- manently secure, which can only be done by making their value properly known ; and this must depend up- on increasing and extending information to every class of men. We have already seen that he was the found- er of the public library, which contriouted greatly to* wards improving the minds of the citizens. But this was not sufficient. The schools then subsisting were in general of little utility. The teachers were men ill qualified for the important duty which they had under- taken ; and, after all, nothing more could be ob ained than the rudiments of a common English education. Franklin drew up a plan of an academy, to be erected in the city of Philadelphia, suited to '< the state of an infant country ;" but in this, as in all his plans, he confined not his views to the present time only. He looked forward to the period when an institution on an enlarged plan would become necessary. With this view he considered his academy as " a foundation for 106 THE LIFE oy posterity to erect a seminary of learning, more exten- sive, and suitable to future circumstances." In pur- suance of this plan, the constitutions were drawn up and signed on the 13th of November 1749. In these twenty-four of the most respectable citizens of Phila- delphia were named as trustees. In the choice of these, and in the formation of his plan, Franklin is said to have consulted chiefly with Thomas Hopkinson. Esq. Rev. Richard Peters, then secretary of the province, Tench Francis, Esq. attorney-general, and Dr. Phineas Bond. The following article shews a spirit of benevolence worthy of imitation ; and, for the honour of our city, we hope that it continues to be in force. " In case of the inability of the rector, or any mas- ter, (established on the foundation by receiving a cer- tain salary) through sickness, or any other natural in- firmity, whereby he may be reduced to poverty, the trustees shall have power to contribute to his support, in proportion to his distress and merit, and the stock in their hands." The last clause of the fundamental rules is expressed in language so tender nd benevolent, so truly parent- al, that it will do everlasting honour to the hearts and heads of the founders. ** It is hoped and expected that the trustees will make it their pleasure, and in some degree their business, to visit the academy often ; to encourage and countenance the youth, countenance and assist the masters, and by all means in their power advance the usefulness and reputation of the design, that they will look on the students, as, in some measure, their ov^^n children, treat them with familiarity and affection ; and when they have behaved well, gone through their studies, and are to enter the world, they should zealously unite, and make all the interest that can be made, to promote and establish them, whether in business, offices, marriages, or any other thing for their advantage, preferable to all other persons whatsoever, even of equal merit.*' DR. FRANKLIN. 107 The constitution being signed and made public, with the names of the gentlemen proposing themselves as trustees and founders, the design was so well appro- ved of by the public-spirited citizens of Philadelphia, that the sum of eight hundred pounds per annum, for five years was in the course of a few weeks subscribed for carrying the plan into execution ; and in the be- ginning of January following (viz. 1750) three of the schools were opened, namely, the Latin and Greek schools, the Mathematical, and the English schools. In pursuance of an article in the original plan, a school for educating sixty boys and thirty girls (in the char- ter since called the Charitable School) was opened, and amidst all the difficulties with which the trustees have struggled in respect to their funds, has still been conti- nued full for the space of forty years ; so that allowing three years education for each boy and girl admitted into it, which is the general rule, at least twelve hun- dred children have received in it the chief part of their education, who might otherwise, in a great measure have been left without the means of instruction. And many of those who have been thus educated, are now to be found amongst the most useful and reputable citizens of this state. The institution, thus successfully begun, continued daily to flourish, to the great satisfaction of Dr Frank- lin ; who, notwithstanding the multiplicity of his other engagements and pursuits at that busy stage of his life, was a constant attendant at the monthly visitations and examinations of the schools, and made it his particular study, by means of his extensive correspondence abroad, to advance the reputation of the seminary, and to draw students and scholars to it from different parts of Ame- rica and the West Indies. Through the interposition of his benevolent and learned friend, Peter Collinson, of London, upon the application of the trustees, a char- ter of incorporation, dated July 13, 1753, was obtain- ed from the honourable proprietors of Pennsylvania, Thomas Penn and Richard Penn, Esqrs. accompanied with a liberal benefaction of five hundred pounds ster- 108 THE hlflE. OF ling ; and Dr. Franklin now began in gootl earnest to please himself with the hopes of a speedy acconriplish- ment of his original design, viz, the establishnnent of a perfect institution, upon the plan of the European colleges and universities ; for which his academy was intended as a nursery or foundation. To elucidate this fact, is a matter of considerable importance in re- spect to the memory and character of Dr. Franklin, as a philosopher, and as the friend and patron of learning and science ; for, notwithstanding what is expressly declared by him in the preamble to the constitutions, viz. that the academy was begun for " teaching the Latin and Greek languages, with all useful branches of the arts and sciences, suitable to the state of an in- fant country, and laying a foundation for posterity to erect a seminary of learning more extensive, and suit- able to their future circumstances;" yet it has been suggested of late, as upon Dr. Franklin's authority, that the Latin and Greek, or the dead langua.^es, are an in-'umbrance upon a scheme of liberal education, and that the ingrafting or founding a college, or more extensive seminary, upon his academy, was without his approbation or agency, and gave him discontent. If the reverse of this does not already appear, from what has been quoted above, the following letters will put the matter beyond dispute. They were written by him to a gentleman, who had at that time publish- ed the idea of a college, suited to the circumstances of a young country, (meaning New-York) a copy of which having been sent to Dr. Franklin for his opinion, gave rise to that correspondence which terminated about a year afterwards, in erecting the college upon the foun- dation of the academy, and establishing that gentleman at the head of both, where he still continues, after a period of thirty-six years, to preside with distinguished reputation. From these letters also, the state of the academy, at tha; time, will be seen. BR. FRANKLIN. 109 Philadelphia^ Jjiril 19, 1753. Sir, I received your favour of the lltiv instant, with your new* piece on Education, which I shall carefully peruse, and give you my sentiments of it, as you de- sire, by next post. I believe the young gentlemen, your pupils, may be entertained and instructed here, in mathematics and philosophy, to satisfaction. Mr. Allisonf (who was educated at Glasgow) has been long accustomed to teach the latter, and Mr. Grew| the former ; and I think their pupils make great progress. Mr. Allison has the care of the Latin and Greek school, but as he has now three good assistants,!) he can very well afford some hours every day for the instruction of those who are engaged in higher studies. The mathematical school is pretty well furnished with instruments. The English library is a good one ; and we have belonging to it 'a middling apparatus for experimental philosophy, and purpose speedily to complete it. The Loganian library, one of the best collections in America, will shortly be opened ; so that neither books nor instru- ments will be wanting ; and as we are determined al- ways to give good salaries, we have reason to believe we may always have an opportunity of chusing good niasters ; upon which, indeed the success of the whole depends. We are obliged to you for your kind offers, in this respect, and when you are settled in England, Ave may occasionally make use of yoiir friendship and judgment. • General idea of the college of Marania. I The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Allison, afterwards D. D. and vice-provost of the colleg^e. + Mr, Theophilus Grew, afterwards professor of mathematics in the college. II Tlicse assistants were at that time Mr. Charles Thompson, late secretary of congress, Mr. Paul Jackson, and Mr. Jacob Duche. K no THE LIFE OF If it suits your pohveniency to visit Philadelphia be- fore your return to Europe, I shall be extremely glad to see and converse with you here, as well as to cor- respond with you after your settlement in England ; for an acquaintance and communication with men of learning, virtue and public spirit, is one of my greatest enjoyments. I do not know whether you ever happened to see the first proposals I made for erecting this academy. I send them inclosed. They had, (however imperfect) the de- sired success, b^ing followed by a subscription oifour thousand pounds^ towards carrying them into execu- tion. And as we are fond of receiving advice, and are daily improving by experience, I am in hopes we shall, in a few years, see a perfect institution, I am very respectfully, &c. B. FRANKLIN. Mr- W, Smithy Long-Island. Philadelphia, May, 3dy 17 S3, Sir, Mr. Peters has just now been with me, and we have compared notes on your new piece. We find nothing in the scheme of education, however excellent, but what is, in our opinion very practicable. The great difficulty will be to find the Aratus,* and other suita- ble persons, to carry it into execution : but such may be had if proper encouragement be given. We have both received great pleasure in the perusal of it. For my part, I know not when I have read a piece that has more affected me — so noble and just are the senti- * The name given to the principal or head of the ideal college, the system of education in which hath nevertheless been nearly realized or followed as a model, in the college and academy of Phi- ladelphia, and some other American seminaries, for some years past. »»R. FRANKLIN. Ill ments, so warm and animated the language ; yet as censure from your friends may be of more use, as well as more agreeable to you than praise, I ought to men- tion, that I wish you had omitted not only the quota- tion fi-om the review,*. which you are now justly dis- satisfied with, but those expressions of resentment against your adversaries, in pages 65 and 79. In such cases the noblest victory is obtained by neglect, and by shining on. Mr. Allen has been out of town these ten days ; but before he went he directed me to procure him six copies of your piece. Mr. Peters has taken ten. He purposed to have written to you ; but omits it, as he expects so soon to have the pleasure of seeing you here. He desires me to present his affectionate com- pliments to you, and to assure you that you will be very welcome to him. I shall only say, that you may depend on my doing all in my power to make your visit to Philadelphia agreeable to you. I am, Sec. B. FRANKLIN. Mr* Smith. Philadelphia Mv. ^ilth^ 1753. Dear sir. Having written to you fully via Bristol, I have now little to add. Matters relating to the academy remain in statu quo. The trustees would be glad to see a rector established there, but ihey dread entering into new engagements till they are out of debt ; and I have * The quotation alluded to (from the London Monthly Review for 1749) was judged to reflect too severely on the discipline and government of the English universities of Oxford and Cambridge, and was expunged from the following editions of this work. 112 THE LIFE OF not yet got them wholly over to my opinion, that a good professor or teacher of the higher branches of learning would draw so many scholars as to pay great part, if not the whole of his salary. Thus, unless the proprietors (of the province) shall think fit to put the finishing hand to our institution, it must, I fear, wait some few years longer before it can arrive at that state of perfection, which to me it seems now capable of; and all the pleasure I promised to myself in seeing you settled among us vanishes into smoke. But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that no en- deavours of his shall be wanting ; and he hopes, with the archbishop?« assistance to be able to prevail with our proprietors.* I pray God grant them success. My son presents his affectionate regards, with, dear sir, Yours, &c. B. FRANKLIN. P. S. I have not been favoured with a line from you since your arrival in England. Philadelphia April 18^^, 1754, Dear sir, I have had but one letter from you since your arri- val in England, which was a short one, via Boston, da- ted October 18th, acquainting me that you had writ- * Upon the application of archbishop Herring and P. GoUinson, esq. at Dr. Franklin's request, (aided by the letters of Mr. Allen and Mr. Peters) the hon. Thomas Penn, esq. subscribed an annual sum, and afterwards gave at least 50001. to the founding or en- grafting the college upon the academy. DR. FRAMKLIN. Ho ten largely by Capt. Davis — Davis was lost, and vv^ith him your letters, to my great disappointment. — Mes- nard and Gibbon have since arrived here, and I hear nothing from you. — My comfort is, an imagination that you only omit writing because you are coming, and purpose to tell me every thing viva voce. So not knowing whether this letter will reach you, and hoping either to see or hear from you by the Myrtilla, capt. Buddon*s ship, which is daily expected, I only add, that I am, with great esteem and affection, Yours, &;c. B. FRANKLIN. Afr. Smith, About a month after the date of this last letter, the gentleman to whom it was addressed arrived in Phila- delphia, and was immediately placed at the head of the seminary ; whereby Dr. Franklin, and the other trus- tees were enabled to prosecute their plan, for perfect- ing the institution, and opening the college upon the large and liberal foundation on which it now stands ; for which purpose they obtained their additional char- ter, dated May 27th, 1755. Thus far we it thought proper to exhibit in one view Dr. Franklin's services in the foundation and es- tablishment of this seminary. He soon afterwards embarked for England, in the public service of his country ; and having been generally employed abroad in the like service, for the greatest part of the remain- der of his life (as will appear in our subsequent ac- count of the same) he had but few opportunities of taking any further active part in the affairs of the se-* minary, until his final return in the year 1785, when he found its charters violated, and his ancient colleagues the original founders, deprived of their trust, by an act of the legislature, and although his own name had been inserted among the new trustees, yet he declined to K2 114 THE LIFE OF take his seat among them, or any concern in the ma- nagement of their affairs, till the instituuon was re- stored by law to its original owners. He then assem- bled his old colleagues at his own house, and being chosen their president, all their future meetings were at his request, held there, till within a few months of his death, when with reluctance, and ai their desire, lest he might be too much injured by his attention to their business, he suffered them to meet at the col- lege. Franklin not only gave birth to many useful insti- tutions himself, but he was also instrumental in pro- moting those which had originated with other men. About the year 1752, an eminent physician of this city. Dr. Bond, considering the deplorable state of the poor, when visited with disease, conceived that idea of establishing an hospital. Notwithstanding very great exertions on his part, he was able to interest few peo- ple so far in the benevolent plan, as to obtain subscrip- tions from them. Unwilling that his scheme should prove abortive, he sought the aid of Franklin, who readily engaged in the business, both by using his in- fluence with his friends, and by stating the advantage- ous influence of the proposed institution in his paper. These efforts were attended with success. Considera- ble sums were subscribed ; but they were still short of what was necessary. Franklin now made another exer- tion. He applied to the assembly ; and, after some opposition obtained leave to bring in a bill, specifying that as soon as two thousand pounds were subscribed, the same sum should be drawn from the treasury by the speaker's warrant, to be applied to the purposes of the institution. The opposition, as the sum was granted upon a contingency which they supposed would never take place, were silent, and the bill passed. The friends of the plan now redoubled their efforts, to obtain sub- scriptions to the amount stated in the bill, and were soon successful. This was the foundation of the Penn- sylvania Hospital, (vhich, with the Bettering-house and DR. FRAKKLIK. 115 Dispensary, bear ample testimony of the humanity of the citizens of Philadelphia. Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well in the office of post-master, and had shown himself to be so well acquainted with the business of that department, that it was thought expedient to raise him to a more dignified station. In 1753 he was appointed deputy post-master-general for the British colonies. The pro- fits arising from the postage of letters, formed no incon* siderable part of the revenue, which the crown of Great Britain derived from the colonies. In the hands of Frank- lin, it is said, that the post-office in America yielded annually thrice as much as that of Ireland. The American colonies were much exposed to de- predations on their frontiers, by the Indians; and more particularly whenever war took place between France and England. The colonies, individually, were either too weak to take efficient measures for their own de- fence, or they were unwilling to take upon themselves the whole burden of erecting forts and maintaining garrisons, whilst their neighbours, who partook equally with themselves of the advantages, contributed no- thing to the expence. Sometimes also the disputes, which subsisted between the governors and assemblies, prevented the adoption of means of defence ; as we have seen was the case in Pennsylvania in 1745. To devise a plan of union between the colonies, to regu- late this and other matters, appeared a desirable ob- ject. To accomplish this, in the year 1754, commis- sioners from New-Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode- Island, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, met at Albany. Dr. Franklin attended here, as a com- missioner from Pennsylvania, and produced a plan, which, from the place of meeting, has been usually termed " The Albany Plan of Union." This pro- posed, that application should be made for an act of parliament, to establish in the colonies a general go- vernment, to be administered by a president-general, ap« pointed, by the crown, and by a grand council, con- sisting of members chosen by the representatives of the 116 THE LIFE OF different colonics ; their number to be in direct propor- tion to the sums paid by each colony into the general treasury, with this restriction, that no colony should have more than seven, nor less than two representatives. The whole executive authority was committed to the president-general. The power of legislation was lodg- ed in the grand council and president-general jointly ; his consent being made necessary to passing a bill into a law. The power vested in the president and council were, to declare war and peace, and to conclude trea- ties with the Indian nations ; to regulate trade with, and to make purchases of vacant lands from them, either in the name of the crown, or of the union : to settle new colonies, to make laws for governing these until they should be erected into separate governments, and to raise troops, build forts, fit out armed vessels, and use other means for the general defence : and, to effect these things, a power was given to make laws laying such duties, imposts, or taxes, as they should find ne- cessary, and as would be least burdensome to the peo- ple. All laws were to be sent to England for the king's approbation ; and unless disapproved of within three years, were to remain in force. All officers in the land or sea service where to be nominated by the president-general, and approved of by the general council ; civil officers were to be nominated by the council, and approved by the president. Such are the outlines of the plan proposed, for the consideration of the congress, by Dr. Franklin. After several days, dis- cussion, it was unanimously agreed to by the commis- sioners, a copy transmitted to each assembly, and one to the king's council. The fate of it was singular. It was disapproved of by the ministry of Great Britain, because it gave too much power to the representatives of the people ; and it was rejected by every assembly, as giving to the president-general, the representative of the crown, an influence greater than appeared to them proper, in a plan of government intended for freemen. Perhaps this rejection, on both sides, is the strongest proof that could be adduced of the excellence of it, as DR. FRANKLIN. 117 suited to the situation of America and Great Britain at that time. It appears to have steered exactly in the middle, between the opposite interests of both. Whether the adoption of this plan would have pre- vented the separation of America from Great Britain, is a question which might afford much room for specula- tion It may be said, that, by enabling the colonies to defend themselves, it would have removed the pretext upon which the stamp-act, tea-act, and other acts of the British parliament, were passed ; which excited a spirit of opposition, and laid the foundation for the separation of the two countries. But, on the other hand, it must be admitted, that the restriction laid by Great Britain upon our commerce, obliging us to sell our produce to her citizens only, and to take from them various articled, of which, as our manufactures were discouraged, we stood in need, at a price greater than that for which they could have been obtained from other nations, must in- evitably produce dissatisfaction, even though no duties were imposed by the parliament : a circumstance which might still have taken place Besides, as the president- general was to be appointed by the crown, he must, of necessity, be devoted to its views, and would, there- fore, refuse his assent to any laws, however salutary to the community, which had the most remote ten- dency to injure the interests of his sovereign. Even should they receive his assent, the approbation of the king was to be necessary; who would indubitably, in every instance, prefer the advantage of his home do- minions to that of his colonies. Hence would ensue perpetual disagreements between the council and the president-general, and thus, between the people of Ame- rica and the crown of Gre it Britain : While the colo- nies continued weak, they would be obliged to submit, and as soon as they acquired strength they would be- come more urgent in their demands, until, at length, they would shake off the yoke, and declare themselves independent. Whilst the French were in possession of Canada, their trade with the natives extended very far ; even to the 118 THE tiFE OF back of the British settlements. They were disposed, from time to time, to establish posts within the territo- ry, which the British claimed as their own. Indepen- dent of the injury to the fur trade* which was consider- able, the colonies suffered this further inconvenience, that the Indians were requently instigated to commit depredations on their frontiers. In the year 1753 en- croachments were made upon the boundaries of Vir- ginia. Remonstrances had no effect In the ensuing year, a body of men were sent out under the command of Mr Washington, who, though a very young man, had, by his conduct in the preceding year, shown him- self worthy of such an important trust. Whilst march- ing to take possession of the post at the junction of the Allegany and Monongahela, he was informed that the French had already erected a fort there. A detach- ment of their men marched against him. He fortified himself as strongly as time and circumstances would permit. A superiority of numbers soon obliged him to surrender Fort Necessity He obtained honourable terms for himself and men. and returned to Virginia. The government of Great Briti'in now thought it ne- cessary to interfere In the yetir 1755, general Brad- dock, with some regiments of regular troops, and pro- vincial levies, was sent to dispossess the French of the posts upon which they had seized. After the men were all ready, a difficulty occurred, which had nearly pre- vented the expedition. This was the want of waggons. Franklin now stepped forward, and with the assistance of his son, in a little time procured an hundred and fifty. Braddock unfortunately fell into an ambuscade, and perished, with a number of his men. Washing- ton, who had accompanied him as an aid-de-camp and had warned him in vain of his danger, now displayed great military talents in effecting a retreat of the re- mains of the army, and forming a junction with the rear, under colonel Dunbar, upon whom the chief com- mand now devolved. With some difficulty they brought their little body to a place of safety ; but they found it necessary to destroy their waggons and baggage DR. franklin; 119 to prevent their falling into the hands of the ene- my. For the waggons which he had furnished, Frank- lin had given bonds to a large amount. The owners declared their intentions of obliging him to make a restitution of their property. Had they put their threats in execution, ruin must inevitably have been the consequence. Governor Shirley, finding' that he had incurred these debts for the service of government} made arrangements to have them discharged, and re- leased Franklin from his disagreeablo situation. The alarm spread through the colonies, after the de- feat of Briddock, was very great. Preparations to arm were every where made. In Pennsylvania, the preva- lence of the quaker interest prevented the adoption of any system of defence which would compel the citizens to bear arms. Franklin introduced into the assembly a bill for organizing a militia, by which every man was allowed to take arms or not, as to him should appear fit. The quakers, being thus left at liberty, suffered the bill to pass ; for although their principles would not suffer them to fight, they had no objections to their neighbours fighting for them. In consequence of this act a very respectable militia was formed. The sense df impend- ing danger, infused a military spirit in all whose religious tenets were not opposed to war. Franklin was appoint- ed colonel of a regiment in Philadelphia, which consist- ed of 1200 men. The north-western frontier being invaded by the ene- my, it became necessary to adopt measures for its de- fence. Franklin was directed by the governor to take charge of this business. A power of raising men, and of appointing officers to command them, was vested in him. He soon levied a body of troops, with which he repaired to the place at which their presence was ne- cessary. Here he built a fort, and placed the garrison in such a posture of defence, as would enable them to withstand the inroads to which the inhabitants had pre- viously been exposed. He remained here for some time, in order the more completely to discharge the trust 120 THE LITE OF committed to him* Some business of importance ren- dered his presence necessary in the assembly, and he returned to Philadelphia. The defence of her colonies was a great expense to Great Britain. The most effectual mode of lessening this was, to put arms into the hands of the inhabitants and to teach them their use. But England wished not that the Americans should become acquainted with their own strength. See was apprehensive, that, as soon as this period arrived, they would no longer submit to that monopoly of their trade, which to them was highly inju- rious, but extremely advantageous to the mother coun- try. In comparison with the profits of this, the expense of maintaining armies and fleets to defend them was tri- fling. She sought to keep them dependent upon her for protection, the best plan which could be devised for retaining them in peaceable subjection. The least ap- pearance of a military spirit was therefore to be guarded against, and, although a war then raged, the act organi- aing a militia was disapproved of by the ministry. The regiments which had been formed under it were dis- banded, and the defence of the province entrusted to re- gular troops. The disputes between the proprietaries and the peo- ple continued in full force, although a war was raging on the frontiers. Not even the sense of danger was sufficient to reconcile, for ever so short a time, their jarring interests. The assembly still insisted upon the justice of taxing the proprietary estates, but the go- vernors constantly refused to give their assent to this measure, without which no bill could pass into a law. Enraged at the obstinacy, and what they conceived to be unjust proceedings of their opponents, the assembly at length determined to apply to the mother country for relief. A petition was addressed to the king, in coun- cil, stating the inconveniences under which the inha- bitants laboured, from the attention of the proprietaries to their private interests, to the neglect of the gene- ral welfare of the community, and praying for redress. Franklin was appointed to present this address, as agent DR. FRANKLIN. 131 for the province of Pennsylvania, and departed from America in June 1757. In conformity to the instruc- tions which he had received from the legislature, held a conference with the proprietaries, who then resided in England, and endeavoured to prevail upon them to give up the long-contested point. Finding that they Avould hearken to no terms of accommodation, he laid his petition to the council. During this time governor Denny assented to a law imposing a tax, in which no discrimination was made in favour of the estates of the Penn family. They, alarmed at this intelligence, and Franklin's exertions, used their utmost exertions to pre- vent the royal sanction being given to this law, which they represented as highly iniquitous, designed to throw the burden of supporting government on them, and cal- culated to produce the most ruinous consequences to them and their posterity. The cause was amply dis- cussed before the privy councils. The Penns found here some strenuous advocates ; nor were there wanting some who warmly espoused the side of the people. Af- ter some time spent in debate, a proposal was made, that Franklin should solemnly engage, that the assessment of the tax should be so made, as that the proprietary estates should pay no more than a due proportion. This he agreed to perform, the Penn family withdrew their opposition, and tranquility was thus once more restored to the province. The mode ia which this dispute was determined is a striking proof of the high opinion entertained of Frank- lin's integrity and honour, even by those who consider- ed him as inimical to their views. Nor was their confi- dence ill founded. The assessment was made upon the strictest principles of equity ; and the proprietary estates bore only a proportionable share of the expenses of sup- porting government. After the completion of this important business, Franklin remained at the court of Great Britain, as agent for the province of Pennsylvania. The exten- sive knowledge which he possessed of the situation of the colonies, and the regard which he always manifest- L 1^2 THE LIFE O? ed for their interests, occasioned his appointment to xhe same office by the colonies of Massachusetts, Mary- land, and Georgia. His conduct, in this situation, -was such as rendered him still more dear to his country- men. He had now an opportunity of indulging in the socie- ty of those friends, whom his merits had procured him while at a distance. The regard which they had enter- tained for him was rather increased by a personal ac- quaintance. The opposition which had been made to his discoveries in philosophy gradually ceased, and, the rewards of literary merit were abundantly conferred upon him. The Royal Society of London, which had at first refused his performances admission into its trans- actions, now thought it an honour to rank him among its fellows. Other societies of Europe were equally ambitious of calling him a member. The university of St. Andrew's, in Scotland, conferred upon him the de- gree of Doctor of Laws. Its example was followed by the universities of Edinburgh and of Oxford. His cor- respondence was sought for by the most eminent phi- losophers of Europe. His letters to these abound with true science, delivered in the most simple unadorned manner. The province of Can'^da was at this time in the pos- session of the French, who had originally settled it. The trade with the Indians, for which its situation was very convenient, was exceedingly lucrative. The French traders^ here found a market for their commo- dities, and received in return large quantities of rich furs, which they disposed of at a high price in Europe. Whilst the possession of this country was highly advan- tageous to France, it was a grievous inconvenience to the inhabitants of the British colonies. The Indians were almost generally desirous to cultivate the friend- ship of the French, by whom they were abundantly supplied with arms and ammunition. Whenever a war happened, the Indians were ready to fall upon the fron- tiers; and this they frequently did, even when Great Britain and rrance were at peace. From these con- »R. FRANKLIN. 128 siderations, it appeared (to be the interest of Great Britain to gain the possession of Canada. But the importance of such an acquisition was not well under- stood in England. Franklin about this time published his Canada pamphlet, in which he, in a very forcible ^ manner, pointed out the advantages which would re- suit from the conquest of this province. An expedition against it was planned, and the com- mand given to General Wolfe. His success is well known. At the treaty of 176?, France ceded Canada to Great Britain, and by her cession of Louisiana, at the same time, relinquished all her possessions on the continent of America. Although Dr. Franklin was now principally occupi- ed with political pursuits, he found time for philoso- phical studies. He extended his electrical researches, and made a variety of experiments, particularly on the tourmalin. The singular properties which this stone possesses of being electrified on one side positively, and on the other negatively, by heat alone, without friction, had been bul lately observed. Some experiments on the cold produced by evapora- tion, made by Dr. Cullen, had been communicated to Dr. Franklin by Professor Simpson of Glasgow. These he repeated, and found that, by the evaporation of ether in the exhausted receiver of an air-pump, so great a degree of cold was produced in a summer's day, that water was converted into ice. This discovery he applied to the solution of a number of phenomena, particularly a singular fact, which philosophers had endeavoured in vain to account for, viz. that the tem- perature of the human body, when in health, never ex- ceeds 96 degrees of Farenheit's thermometer, although the atmosphere which surrounds it may be heated to a much greater degree. This he attributed to the in- creased perspiration, and consequent evaporation, pro- duced by the heat. In a letter to Mr. Small of London, dated in May 1760, Dr. Franklin makes a number of observations, tending to shew that, in North America, north-east i24 THE LIFE OF Storms begin in the south-west parts. It appears, from actual observation, that a north-east storm, which ex- tended a considerable distance, commenced in Phila- delphia nearly four hours before it was felt at Boston. He endeavoured to account for this, by supposing that, from heat, some rarefaction takes place about the gulf of Mexico, that the air further north being cooler rushes in, and is succeeded by the cooler and denser air still further north, and that thus a continued current is at length produced. The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a drink- ing glass with a wet finger had been generally known. A Mr. Puckeridge, an Irishman, by placing on a table a number of glasses of different sizes, and tuning them by partly filling them with water, endeavoured to form an instrument capable of playing tunes. He was pre- vented by an untimely end, from bringing his inven- tion to any degree of perfection. After his death some improvements were made upon his plan. The sweetness of the tones induced Dr. Franklin to make a variety of experiments ; and he at length formed that elegant instrument which he has called the Ar- monica. In the summer of 1752 he returned to America.— On his passage he observed the singular effect pro- duced by the agitation of a vessel, containing oil float- ing on water. The surface of the oil remains smooth and undisturbed, whilst the water is agitated with the utmost commotion. No satisfactory explanation of this appearance, has we believe, ever been given. Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the assembly of Pennsylvania, *' as well for the faithful discharge of his duty to that province in particular, as for the many and important services done to America in general, during his residence in Great-Britain." A compensa- tion of 50001. Pennsylvania currency, was also decreed him for his services during six years. During his absence he had been annually elected member of the assembly. On his return to Pcnnsyl- DR. FRANKLIN. 125 vania he again took his seat in this body, and continu- ed a steady defender of the liberties of the people. In December 1762, a circumstance which caused great alarm in the province took place. A number of Indians had resided in the county of Lancaster, and conducted themselves uniformly as friends to the white inhabitants. Repeated depredations on the frontiers had exasperated the inhabitants to such a degree, that they determined on revenge upon every Indian. A number of persons, to the amount of 120, principally inhabitants of Donnegal and Peckstang or Paxton townships, in the county of York, assembled ; and, mounted on horseback, proceeded to the settlement of these harmless and defenceless Indians, whose number had now reduced to about twenty. The Indians re- -ceived intelligence of the attack which was intended against them, but disbelieved it. Considering the white people as their friends, they apprehended no dan- ger from them. When the party arrived at the Indi- an settlement, they found only some women and chil. dren, and a few old men, the rest being absent at work. They murdered all whom they found, and amongst others the chief Shahaes, who had been always distin- guished for his friendship to the whites. This bloody deed excited much indignation in the well disposed part of the community. The remainder of these unfortunate Indians, who, by absence, had escaped the massacre, were conducted to Laneaster, and lodged in the gaol, as a place of se- curity. The governor issued a proclamation, expres- ing the strongest disapprobation of the action, offering a reward for the discovery of the perpetrators of the A deed, and prohibiting all injuries to the peaceable In- *dians in future. But, notwithstanding this, a party of the same men shortly after marched to Lancaster, broke open the gaol, and inhumanly butchered the in- nocent Indians who had been placed there for security Another proclamation was issued, but had no effect. A detachment marched down to Philadelphia, for the express purpose of murdering some friendly Indians L2 136 THE LIFE OF who had been removed to the city for safety. A num« ber of the citizens armed in their defence. The Qua* kers, whose principles are opposed to fighting, even in their own defence, were most active upon this occa- sion. The rioters came to Germantown. The gover- nor fled for safety to the house of Dr. Franklin, who, with some others, advanced to meet the Paxton boys, as they were called, and had influence enough to pre- vail upon them to relinquish their undertaking, and re- turn to their homes. The disputes between the proprietaries and the as- sembly, which for a time, had subsided, were again revived. The proprietaries were dissatisfied with the concessions made in favour of the people, and made great struggles to recover the privilege of exempting their estates from taxation, which they had been indu- ced to give up. In 1763 the assembly passed a militia bill, to which the governor refused to give his assent, unless the as- sembly would agree to certain amendments which he proposed. These consisted in increasing the fines, and, in some cases, substituting death for fines. He wished too that the officers should be appointed altogether, by himself, and not be nominated by the people, as the bill had proposed. These amendments the assembly considered as inconsistent with the spirit of liberty.— They would not adopt them ; the governor was obsti- nate, and the bill was lost. These and various other circumstances, increased the uneasiness which subsisted between the proprieta- ries and the assembly to such a degree, that, in 1764, a petition to the king was agreed to by the house, pray- ing an alteration from a firofirietary to a regal govern-J ment. Great opposition was made to this measure, n only in the house, but in the public prints. A speech of Mr Dickenson, on the subject was published, with a preface by Dr. Smith, in which great pains were taken to shew the impropriety and impolicy of this pro- ceeding. A speech of Mr. Galloway, in reply to Mr. Dickenson, was published, accompanied with a DR. FRANKLXHr: 137 preface by Dr. Franklin ; in which he ably opposed the principles laid down in the preface to Mr. Dicken- son's speech) This application to the throne produced no effect. The proprietary government was still con- tinued. At the election for a new assembly, in the fall of 1764, the friends of the proprietaries made great ex- ertions to exclude those of the adverse party, and ob- tained a small majority in the city of Philadelphia. Franklin now lost his seat in the house, which he had held for fourteen years. On the meeting of the as- sembly, it appeared that there was still a decided majo- rity of Franklin's friends. He was immediately ap- pointed provincial agent, to the great chagrin of his enemies, who made a solemn protest against his ap- pointment ; which was refused admission upon the mi- nutes, as being unprecedented. It was, however, pub- lished in the papers, and produced a spirited reply from him just before his departure for England. The disturbances produced in America by Mr. Gren- ville's stamp- act, and the opposition made to it, are well known. Under the marquis of Rockingham's ad- ministration, it appeared expedient to endeavour to calm the minds of the colonists ; and the repeal of the odious tax was contemplated. Amongst other means of collecting information on the disposition of the peo- ple to submit to it, Dr. Franklin was called to the bar of the house of commons. The examination which he here underwent was published, and contains a stri- king proof of the extent and accuracy of his informa- tion, and the facility with which he communicated his sentiments. He represented facts in so strong a point of view, that the inexpediency of the act must have appeared clear to every unprejudiced mind. The act after some opposition, was repealed, about a year after it was enacted, and before it had ever been carried into execution. In the year 1766, he made a visit to Holland and Germany, and received the greatest marks of attention from men of science. In his passage through Holland, 128 THE LIFE OF he learned from the watermen the effect which a dimlr nution of the quantity of water in canals has, in impe- ding the progress of boats. Upon his return to Eng- land, he was led to make a number of experiments ; all of which tended to confirm the observation. Thesei with an explanation of the phenomenon, he commu- nicated in a letter to his friend, sir John Pringle, which is contained in the volume of his philosophical pieces. In the following year he travelled into France, where he met with a no less favourable reception than he had experienced in Germany. He was introduced to a number of literary characters, and to the King, Louis XV. Several letters written by Hutchinson, Oliver, and others, to persons in eminent stations in Great Britain, came into the hands of Dr. Franklin. These contained the most violent invectives against the leading characters of the state of Massachusetts, and strenuously advised the prosecution of vigorous mea- sures, to compel the people to obedience to the measures of the ministry. These he transmitted to the legisla- ture, by whom they were published. Attested copies of them were sent to Great Britain, with an address, praying the king to discharge from office persons who had rendered themselves so obnoxious to the people, and who had shown themselves so unfriendly to their interests. The publication of these letters produced a duel be- tween Mr. Whately and Mr. Temple ; each of whom was suspected of having been instrumental in procuring them. To prevent any further disputes on this subject, Dr. Franklin, in one of the public papers, declared that he had sent them to America, but would give no infor- mation concerning the manner in which he had obtained them ; nor was this ever discovered. Shortly after, the petition of the Massachusetts as- sembly was taken up for examination, before the privy council. Dvi Franklin attended, as agent for the as- sembly ; and here a torrent of the most violent and un- DR. FRANKLIN. 129 warranted abuse was poured upon him by the solicitor- general, Wedderburne, who was engaged as council for Oliver and Hutchinson. The petition was declared to be scandalous and vexatiouS) and the prayer of it refused. Although the parliament of Great Britain had re- pealed the stamp-act, it was only upon the principle of expediency. They still insisted upon their right to tax the colonies ; and, at the same time that the stamp- act was repealed, an act was passed, declaring the right of parliament to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever. This language was used even by the most strenuous opposers of the stamp-act ; and, amongst others, by Mr. Pitt. This right was never recognized by the colonists ; but, as they flattered themselves that it would not be exercised, they were not very active in remonstrating against it. Had this pretended right been suffered to remain dormant, the colonists would cheerfully have furnished their quota of supplies, in the mode to which they had been accustomed : that is, by acts of their own assemblies, in consequence of requi- sitions from the secretary of state. If this practice had been pursued, such was the disposition of the co- lonies towards the mother country, that, notwithstand- ing the disadvantages under which they laboured, from restraints upon their trade, calculated solely for the benefit of the commercial and manufacturing interests of Great Britain, a separation of the two countries might have been a far distant event. The Americans, from their earliest infancy, were taught to venerate a people from whom they were descended f whose language, laws and manners were the same as their own. They looked up to them as models of perfec- tion ; and, in their prejudiced minds, the most enlight- ened nations of Europe were considered as almost bar- barians, in comparison with Englishmen. The name of an Englishman conveyed to an American the idea of every thing good and great. Such sentiments in- stilled into them in early life, what but a repetition of unjust treatment could have induced them to enter-t 1$0 THE LIFB OS tain the most distant thought of separation ! Tho du- ties on glass, paper, leather, painters' colours, tea, &c. the disfranchisement of some of the colonies ; the obstruction to the measures of the legislature, in others, by the king's governors; the contemptuous treatment of their humble remonstrances, stating their grievances, and praying a redress of them, and other violent and oppressive measures, at length excited an ar- dent spirit of opposition. Instead of endeavouring to allay this by a more lenient conduct, the ministry seemed resolutely bent upon reducing the colonies to the most slavish obedience to their decrees. But thi^ tended only to aggravate. Vain w^ere all the efforts made use of to prevail upon them to lay aside their designs, to convince them of the impossibility of carry- ing them into effect, and of the mischievous conse- quences which must ensue from a continuance of the attempt. They persevered, with a degree of inflexi- bility scarcely paralleled. The advantages which Great Britain derived from her colonies were so great, that nothing but a degree of infatuation, little short of madness, could havf pro- duced a continuance of measures calculated to keep up a spirit of uneasiness, which mi,%ht occasion the slight- est wish for a separation. When we consider the great improvements in the science of government, the gene- ral diffusion of the principles of liberty amongst the people of Europe, the effects which these have already produced in France, and the probable consequences which will result from them elsewhere, all of which are the offspring of the American revolution, it can- not but appear strange, that events of so great mo- ment to the happiness of mankind, should have been ultimately occasioned by the wickedness or ignorance of a British ministry. Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail upon the ministry to consent to a change of measures. In private conversations, and in letters to persons in go- vernment, he continually expatiated upon the impoli- cy and injustice of their conduct towards America ; and stated, that notwithstanding the attachment of the DR. FRANKLIN. ISl colonists to the mother country, a repetition of ill treat- ment must ultimately alienate their affections. They listened not to his advice. They blindly persevered in their own schemes, and left to the colonists no alterna- tive, but opposition or unconditional submission. The latter accorded not with the principles of freedom, which they had been taught to revere. To the former they were compelled, though reluctantly, to have recourse. Dr. Franklin, finding all efforts to restore harmony between Great Britain and her colonies useless, return- ed to America in the year 1775 ; just after the com- mencement of hostilities. The day after his return he was elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania a member of congress. Not long after his election a committee was appointed, consisting of Mr. Lynchj Mr. Harrison, and himself, to visit the camp of Cam- bridge, and, in conjunction with the commander in chief, to endeavour to convince the troops, whose term of enlistment was about to expire, of the necessity of their continuing in the field, and persevering in the cause of their country. In the fall of the same year he visited Canada, to endeavour to unite them in the common cause of li- berty ; but they could not be prevailed upon to oppose the measures of the British government. M. Le Roy, in a letter annexed to Abbe Fauchet*s eulogium of Dr. Franklin, states, that the ill success of this negociation was occasioned, in a great degree, by religious animosi- ties, which subsisted between the Canadians and their neighbours ; some of whom had at different times burnt their chapels. When Lord Howe came to America, in 1776, vest- ed with power to treat with the colonists, a correspon- dence took place between him and Dr. Franklin, on the subject of a reconciliation. Dr. Franklin was af- terwards appointed, together with John Adams and Edward Rulledge, to wait upon the commissioners, in order to learn the extent of their power. These were found to be only to grant pardons upon submission. 132 THE LIFE OF These were terms which would not be excepted ; and the object of the commissioners could not be obtained. The momentous question of Independence was short- ly after brought into view ; at a time when the fleets and armies, which were sent to enforce obedience, were truly formidable. With an army, numerous in- deed, but ignorant of discipline, and entirely unskilled in the art of war, without money, without a fleet, with- out allies, and with nothing but the love of liberty to support them, the colonists determined to separate from a country from which they had experienced a repeti- tion of injury and insult. In this question. Dr. Frank- lin was decidedly in favour of the measure proposed, and had great influence in bringing over others to his sentiments. The public mind had been pretty fully prepared for this event, by Mr. Paine's celebrated pamphlet, Common Sense, There is good reason to believe that Dr. Frank- lin had no inconsiderable share, at least, in furnishing materials for this work. In the convention which assembled at Philadelphia in 1776, for the purpose of establishing a new form of government for the state of Pennsylvania, Dr. Frank- lin was chosen president. The late constitution of this state, which was the result of their deliberations, may be considered as a digest of his principles of govern- ment. The single legislature, and the plural execu- live, seem to have been his favourite tenets. In the latter end of 1776, Dr. Franklin was ap- pointed to assist in the negociations which had been set on foot by Silas Deane at the court of France. A conviction of the advantages of a commercial inter- course with America, and a desire of weakening the British empire by dismembering it, first induced the French court to listen to proposals of an alliance. But they shewed rather a reluctance to the measure, which, by Dr. Franklin's address, and particularly by the success of the American arms against general Bur- goyne, was at length overcome ; and in February 1778, a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive-, was con- ])R« FRANKLIK. 133 pltided; in consequence of which France became involv- ed in the war with Great Britain. Perhaps no person could have been found more capa- ble of rendering essential services to the United States at the court of France, than Dr. Franklin. He was well known as a philosopher, and his character was held in the highest estimation. He was received with the greatest marks of respect by all the literary cha- racters ; and this respect was extended amongst all classes of men. His personal influence was hence very considerable. To the effects of this were added those of various performances which he published, tending to establish the credit and character of the United States. To his exertions in this way; may, in no small degree, be ascribed the success of the. loans negociatedin Hol- land and France, which greatly contributed to bringing the war to a happy conclusion. The repeated ill success of their arms, and more particularly the capture of Cornwallis and his army, at length convinced the British nation of the impossibility of reducing the Americans to subjection. The tra- ding interest particularly became very clamorous for peace. The ministry were unable longer to oppose their wishes. Provincial articles of peace were agreed to, and signed at Paris on the 30th of November, 1782 by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. Laurens, on the part of the United States ; and by Mr. Oswald on the part of Great Britain. These formed the basis of the definitive treaty, which was con- cluded the 30th of September 1783, and signed by Dr- Franklin, Mr. Adams, and Mr. Jay, on the one part, and by Mr. David Hartley on the other. On the 3d of April 1783, a treaty of amity and commerce, between the United States and Sweden, was concluded at Paris, by Dr. Franklin and the Count Von Krutz. A similar treaty with Prussia was concluded in 1785, not long before Dr. Franklin's departure from Europe. M 134 THE LIFE OF Dr. Franklin did not suffer his political pursuits to engross his whole attention. Sortie of his perform- ances made their appearance in Paris. The object of these was generally the promotion of industry and ceco- nomy. In the year 1784, when animal magnetism made great noise in the world, particularly at Paris, it was thought a matter of such importance, that the king appointed commissioners to examine into the founda- tion of this pretended science. Dr. Franklin was one of the number. After a fair and diligent examination, in the course of which Mesmer repeated a number of experiments, in the presence of the commissioners, some of which were tried upon themselves, they deter- mined that it was a mere trick, intended to impose upon the ignorant and credulous— Mesmer was thus interrupted in his career to wealth and fame, and a most insolent attempt to impose upon the human understand- ing baffled. The important ends of Dr. Franklin's mission being completed by the establishment of American independ- ence, and infirmities of age and disease coming upon him, he became desirous of returning to his native country. Upon application to congress to be recalled, Mr. Jefferson was appointed to succeed him, in 1783. Sometime in September of the same year, Dr. Frank- lin arrived in Philadelphia. He was shortly after chosen member of the supreme executive council for the city ; and soon after was elected president of the same. When a convention was called to meet in Philadel- phia, in 1787, for the purpose of giving more energy to the government of the union by revising and amend- ing the articles of confederation. Dr. Franklin was appointed a delegate from the State of Pennsylvania. He signed the constitution which ihey proposed for the union, and gave it the most unequivocal marks of his approbation. A society for political enquiries, of which Dr. Frank- lin was president, was established^bout this period.— DR. FRANKLIN.! 155 The meetings were held at his house. Two or three essays read in the society were published. It did not long continue. In the year 1787, two societies were established in Philadelphia, founded on principles of the most liberal and refined humanity — the Philadelfihia Society for aU Icviating the miseries of public prisons ; and the Penn- sylvania Society for promoting the abolition of slavery<^ the relief of free negroes unlawfully held in bondage, and the improvement of the condition of the African race. Of each of these Dr. Franklin was president. The labours of these bodies have been crowned 'with great success ; and they continue to prosecute, with unwearied diligence, the laudable designs for which they were instituted. ^ Dr. Franklin's increasing infirmities prevented his regular attendance in the council-chamber ; and, in 1788, he retired wholly from public life. His constitution had been a remarkable good one. He had been little subject to disease, except an attack of the gout occasionally, until the year 1781, when he was first attacked with the symptoms of the calculous complaint, which continued during his life. During the intervals of pain from this grievous disease, he spent many cheerful hours, conversing in the most agreeable and instructive manner. His faculties were entirely unimpaired, even to the hour of his death. His name, as president of the Abolition Society, was signed to the memorial presented to the House of Representatives of the United States, on the I2th of February 1789, praying them to exert the full extent of power vested in them by the constitution, in dis- couraging the traffic of the human species This was his last public act. In the debates to which this me- morial gave rise, several attempts were made to justify the trade. In the Federal Gazette of March 25th there appeared an essay, signed Historicus, written by Dr. Franklin, in which he communicated a speech, said to have been delivered in the Divan of Algiers in 1687, in opposition to the prayer of the petition of a 136 THE LIFE OF sect called Erika^ or purists, for the abolition of piracy and slavery. This pretended African speech was an excellent parody of one delivered by Mr. Jackson of Georgia. All the arguments urged in favour of negro slavery, are applied with equal force, to justify the plundering and enslaving the Europeans. It affords, at the same time, a demonstration of the utility of the arguments in defence of the slave trade, and of the strength of mind and ingenuity of the author, at his advanced period of life. It furnished too a no less convincing proof of his power of imitating the style of other times and nations, than his celebrated parable against persecution. And as the latter led many to search the Scriptures with a view to find it, so the former caused many persons to search the book-stores and libraries, for the work from which it was said to be extracted.* In the beginning of April following, he was attack- ed with a fever and complaint of his breast, which terminated his existence. The following account of his last illness was written by his friend and physician, Dr. Jones. " The stone, ivith which he had been afflicted for several years, had for the last twelve months confined him chiefly to his bed ; and during the extreme painful paroxysms, he was obliged to take large doses of lau- danum to mitigate his tortures — still, in the intervals of pain, he not only amused himself with reading and conversing with his family, and a few friends who visited him, but was often employed in doing business of a public as well as private nature, with various per- sons who waited on him for that purpose ; and in every instance displayed, not only that readiness and disposi- tion of doing good, which was the distinguishing cha- racteristic of his life, but the fullest and clearest posses- sion of his uncommon mental abilities ; and not unfre- quently indulged himself in those jeux d*es/irU and en- tertaining anecdotes, which were the delight of all who heard him. * This speech wUl be found in the volume of Essays. DR. FRANKLIN. 137* *< About sixteen days before his death, he was seized with a feverish indisposition, without any particular symptoms attending it, till the third or fourth day, when he complained of a pain in his left breast, which increas- ed till it became extremely acute, attended with a cough and laborious breathing. During this state, when the severity of his pains sometimes drew forth a groan of complaint, he would observe— that he was afraid he did not bear them as he ought — -acknowledged his grateful sense of the many blessings he had received from that Supreme Being, who had raised him from small and low beginnings to such high rank and consideration among men — and no doubt but his present afflictions were kindly intended to wean him from a world, in which he was no longer fit to act the part assigned hira. In this frame of body and mind he continued till five days be- fore his death, when his pain and difficulty of breathing intirely left him, and his family were flattering them- selves with the hopes of his recovery, when an impos- thumation, which had formed itself in his lungs, sudden- ly burst, and discharged a great quantity of matter, which he continued to throw up while he had sufficient strength to do it ; but, as that failed, the organs of re- spiration became gradually oppresSSii — a calm lethargic state succeeded — and, on the 17ih of April, 1790, about eleven o'clock at night, he expired, closing a long and useful life of eighty-four years and three months. " It may not be amiss to add to the above account, that Dr. Franklin, in the year 1735, had a severe pleu- risy which terminated in an abscess of the left lobe of his lungs, and he was then almost suffi)cated with the quantity and suddenness of the discharge. A second attack of a similar nature happened some years after this, from which he soon recovered, and did not appear to suffer any inconvenience in his respiration from these diseases." M2 138 THE LIFE or The following epitaph on himself, was written by him many years previous to his death : THE BODY of Benjamin Franklin, Printfer, (Like the cover of an old book, Its contents torn out, And stript of its lettering and gilding) Lies here, food for worms; Yet the work itself shall not be lost. For it will (as he believed) appear once more, In a new And more beautiful edition, Corrected and amended by The Author Exi'SActs from the Last Will and Testament of Dn» Franklin. WITH regard to my booiis, those I had in France^ and those I left in Philadelphia, being now assembled to- gether here, and a catalogue made of them, it is my in- tention to dispose of the same as follows : My history of the academy of Sciences, in sixty or seventy volumes quarto, I give to the philosophical so- ciety of Philadelphia, of which I have the honour to be president. My collection in folio of Les Arts i3^ JLes Metiers^ I give to the philosophical society, esta- blished in New-England, of which I am a member. — My quarto edition of the same Jrta and Metiers^ I Da. FRANKLIN, 1^9 give to the library company of Philadelphia. Such and so many of my books as I shall mark, in the said catalogue, with the name of my grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, I do hereby give to him : and such and so many of my books, as I shall mark in the said catalogue with the name of my grandson, William Bache, I do hereby give to him : and such as shall be marked with the name of Jonathan Williams, I here- by give to my cousin of that name. The residue and remainder of all my books, manuscripts and papers, I do give to my grandson William Temple Franklin. -i— My share in the library company of Philadelphia, I give to my grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, con- fiding that he will permit his brothers and sisters to share in the use of it. I was born in Boston, New-England, and owe my first instructions in literature to the free grammar-schools established there. I therefore give one hundred pounds sterling to my executors, to be by them, the survivors or survivor of them, paid over to the managers or di- rectors of the free schools in my native town of Bos- ton, to be by them, or the person or persons who shall have the superintendance and mananpent of the said schools, put out to interest, and ^^continued at in- terest for ever ; which interest annually shall be laid out in silver medals, and given as honorary rewards annually by the directors of the said free schools, for the encouragement of scholarship in the said schools, belonging to the said town, in such manner as to the discretion of the select men of the said town shall seem meet. Out of the salary that may remain due to me, as pre* sident of the state, I give the sum of two thousand pounds to my executors, to be by them, the survivors or survivor of them, paid over to such person or persons as the legislature of this state, by an act of assembly, shall appoint to receive the same, in trust, to be em- ployed for making the Schuylkill navigable. During the number of years I was in business as a stationer, printer, and post-master, a great many smaU \40 THB LIFE OF sums became due to me, for books, advertisements, postage of letters, and other matters, which were not collected, when, in 1757, I was sent by the assembly to England as their agent — and by subsequent ap- pointment continued there till 1775 — when, on my return, I was immediately engaged in the affairs of congress, and sent to France in 1776, where I remain- ed nine years, not returning till 1785 ; and the said debts not being demanded in such a length of time, are become in a manner obsolete, yet are nevertheless justly due. — These as they are stated in my great folio ledger, E. I bequeath to the contributors of the Penn- sylvania hospital ; hoping that these debtors, and the descendants to such as are deceased, who now, as I find, make some difficulty of satisfying such antiqua- ted demands as just debts, may however be induced to pay or give them as charity to that excellent institu- tion. I am sensible that much must inevitably be lost ; but I hope something considerable may be recovered. It is possible too that some of the parties charged may have existing old unsettled accounts against me ; in which case the managers of the said hospital will allow and deduct th^Muount, and pay the balance, if they find it against i^^ I request my friends Henry Hill, Esq. John Jay, Esq. Francis Hopkinson, Esq. and Mr. Edward Duf- field, of Bonfield, in Philadelphia county, to be the executors of this my last will and testament, and I hereby nominate and appoint them for that purpose. I would have my body buried with as little expence or ceremony as may be. PMladel/ihiaj July 17, 1788. PR. FRANKLllf. 141 CODICIL. I, Benjamin Franklin, in the foregoing or annexed last will and testament, having further considered the same, do think proper to make and publish the follow- ing codicil, or addition thereto : It having long been a fixed political opinion of mine, that in a democratical state there ought to be no offices, of profit, for the reasons I had given in an article of my drawing in our constitution, it was my intention when I accepted the office of president, to devote the appointed salary to some public use : Accordingly I had already, before I made my last will, in July last, given large sums of it to colleges, schools, building of churches, &c. and in that will I bequeathed two thou- sand pounds more to the state, for the purpose of ma- king the Schuylkill navigable; but understanding since, that such a sum will do but little towards accomplish- ing such a work, and that the project is not likely to be undertaken for many years to cq|M->and having en- tertained another idea, which I h^e may be found more extensively useful, I do hereby revoke and annul the bequest, and direct that the certificates I have for what remains due to me of that salary, be sold towards raising the sum of two thousand pounds sterling, to be disposed of as I am now about to order. It has been an opinion, that he who receives an es- tate from his ancestors, is under some obligation to transmit the same to posterity. This obligation lies not on me, who never inherited a shilling from any an- cestor or relation. I shall, however, if it is not dimi- nished by some accident before my death, leave a con- siderable estate among my descendants and relations. The above observation is made merely as some apolo- gy to" my family, for my making bequests that do not appear to have any immediate relation to their advan- tage. 142 THE LIFE OF / I was born in Boston, New-England, and owe my first instructions in literature to the free grammar- schools established there. I have therefore considered those schools in my will. But I am under obligations to the state of Massa- chusetts, for having, unasked, appointed me formerly their agent, with a handsome salary, which continued some years : and although I accidentally lost in their service, by transmitting governor Hutchinson's letters, much more than the amount of what they gave me, I do not think that ought in the least to diminish my gratitude. I have considered that, among artisans, good apprentices are most likely to make good citi- zens ; and having myself been bred to a manual art, printing, in my native town, and afterwards assisted to set up my business in Philadelphia by kind loans of money from two friends there, which was the founda- tion of my fortune, and of all the utility in life that may be ascribed to me — I wish to he useful even after my death, if possible, in forming and advancing other young men, that may be serviceable to their country in both these towns. To this end I jB||ote two thousand pounds sterling, which I give, on^^ousand thereof to the inhabitants of the town of Boston, in Massachusetts, and the other thousand to the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia, in trust, to and for the uses, intents, and purposes) herein after mentioned and declared. The said sum of one thousand pounds sterling, if ac- cepted by the inhabitants of the town of Boston, shall be managed under the direction of the select-men, uni- ted with the ministers of the oldest episcopalian, con- gregational, and presbyterian churches, in that town, who are to let out the same upon interest at five per cent, per annum, to such young married artificers, un- der the age of twenty-five years, as have served an ap- prenticeship in the said town, and faithfully fulfilled the duties required in their indentures, so as to obtain a good moral character from at least two respectable ci- tizens, who are willing to become sureties in a bond DRr franklxnI 143 with the applicants for the repayment of the money so lent with interest, according to the terms herein after prescribed ; all which bonds are to be taken for Spanish milled dollars, or the value thereof in current gold coin; and the managers shall keep a bound book, or books, wherein shall be entered the names of those who shall apply for and receive the benefit of. this insti- tution, and of their sureties, together with the sums lent? the dales, and other necessary and proper records re- specting the business and concerns of this institutions and as these loans are intended to assist young married artificers in setting up their business, they are to be pro- portioned by the discretion of the managers, so as not to exceed sixty pounds sterling to one person, nor to be less than fifteen pounds. And if the number of appliers so entitled should be so large as that the sum will not suffer to afford to each as much as might otherwise not be improper, the proportion to each shall be diminished, so as to afford to every one some assistance. These aids may there- fore be small at first, but as the capital increases by the accumulated interest, they will be more ample. And in order to serve as many as possible i^Jheir turn, as well as to make the repayment of the principal borrowed more easy, each borrower shall be obliged to pay with the yearly interest one tenth part of the principal ; which sums of principal and interest so paid in, shall be again let out to fresh borrowers. And it is presum- ed, that there will be always found in Boston virtuous and benevolent citizens, willing to bestow a part of their time in doing good to the rising generation, by super- intending and managing this institution gratis ; it is hoped that no part of the money will at any time lie dead, or be diverted to other purposes, but be continu- ally sugmented by the interest, in which case there may in time be more than the occasion in Boston shall re- quire ; and then some may be spared to the neigh- bouring or other towns in the said state of Massachu- setts, which may desire to have it, such towns engag- ing to pay punciuallythe interest, and such proportions 144 THE IIFE OF of the principal annually to the inhabitants of ifee town of Boston. If this plan is executed, and succeeds, as projeixte^, without interruption, for one hundred years, the sum will be then one hundred and thirty- one thousand pounds ; of which I would have the ma- nagers of the donation to the town of Boston then lay out, at their discretion, one hundred thousand pounds in public works, which may be judged of most general utility to the inhabitants; such as fortifications, bridges, acqueducts, public buildingsjbaths, pavements, or what- ever may make living in the town more convenient to its people, and render it more' agreeable to strangers re- sorting thither for health, or a temporary residence. The remaining thirty-one thousand pounds I would have continued to be let out to interest, in the manner above directed for one hundred years ; as I hope it will have been found that the institution has had a good effect on the conduct of youth, and been of ser- vice to many worthy characters and useful citizens. At the end of this second term, if no unfortunate ac- cident, has prevented the operation, the sum will be four millions and sixty-one thousand pounds sterling j of which I leave^ne million and sixty-one thousand pounds to the disposition and management of the in- habitants of the town of Boston, and the three millions to the disposition of the government of the state ; not presuming to carry my views any further. All the directions herein given respecting the dis- position and management of the donation to the inha- bitants of Boston, I would have observed respecting that to the inhabitants of Philadelphia ; only, as Phi- ladelphia is incorporated, I request the corporation of that city to undertake the management, agreeably to the said directions : and I do hereby vest them with full and ample powers for that purpose. And having considered that the covering of its ground-plat with buildings and pavements, which carry off most rain, and prevent its soaking into the earth, and renewing and purifying the springs, whence the water of the wells must gradually grow worse, and in time be unfit for DR. FRANKLIN. 145 use, as I find has happened in all old cities ; I recom- mend, that, at the end of the first hundred years, if not done before, the corporation of the city employ a part of the hundred thousand pounds in bringing by pipes the water of Wissahickon-creek into the town, so as to supply the inhabitants, which I apprehend may be done without much difficulty, the level of that creek being much above that of the city, and may be made higher by a dam. I also recommend making the Schuylkill completely navigable. At the end of the second hun- dred years, I would have the disposition of the four millions and sixty-one thousand pounds divided between the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia and the gov- ernment of Pennsylvania, in the same manner as here- in directed with respect to that of the inhabitants .of Boston and the goverment of Massachusetts. It is my desire that this institution should take place and begin to operate within one year after my decease ; for which purpose due notice should be publicly given, previous to the expiration of that year, that those for whose benefit this establishment is intended may make their respective applications ; and I hereby direct my executors, the survivors and survivor of them, witSin six months after my decease; to pay over the said sum of two thousand pounds sterling to such persons as shall be duly appoint- ed by the select men of Boston, and the corporation of Philadelphia, to receive and take charge of their respec- tive sums of one thousand pounds each for the purposes aforesaid. Considering the accidents to which all human affairs and projects are subject in such a length of tirae^ I have perhaps too much flattered myself with a vain fancy, that these dispositions, if carried into execution, will be continued without interruption, and have the ef- fects proposed; I hope however, that, if the inhabitants of the two cities should not think fit to undertake the execution, they will at least accept the ofi'er of these donations, as a mark of my good will, token of my gratitude, and testimony of my desire to be useful to them even after my departure. I wish, indeed, that N i46 THE LIFE OF, 8cC. they may both undertake to endeavour the execution of my project, because I think, that, though unfore- seen difficulties may arise, expedients will be found to remove them, and the scheme be found practicable. If one of them accepts the money with the conditions, and the other refuses, my will then is, that both sums be given to the inhabitants of the city accepting ; the whole to be applied to the same purposes, and under the same regulations directed for the separate parts ; and if both refuse, the money remains of course in the mass of my estate, and it is to be disposed of therewith, according to my will made the seventeenth day of July 1788. My fine crab-tree walking-stick, with a gold head curiously wrought in the form of the cap of Liberty, I give to my friend, and the friend of mankind. General Washington. If it were a sceptre? he had merited it, and would become it. ESSAYS, HUMOUROUS, MORAL AND, LITERARY, &c. ON EAELY MARRIAGES. t TO JOHN ALLEYNE, ESq. DEAR JACK, YOU desire, you say, my impartial thouglits on the subject of an early marriage, by way of answer to the numberless objections that have been made by nijme- rous persons to your own. You may remember when you consulted me on the occasion, that I thought youth on both sides to be no objection. Indeed, from the marriages that have fallen under my observation, I am rather inclined to think, that early ones stand the best chance of happiness. The temper and habits of the young are not yet become so stiff and uncom- plying, as when more advanced in life ; they form more easily to each other, and hence many occasions of dis- 'gust are removed. And if yoyih has less of that pru- dence which is necessary to mdnage a family, yet the parents and elder friends of young married persons are generally at hand to afford their advice, which amply supplies that defect; and by early marriage, youth is 148 ESSAYS. sooner formed to regular and useful life j and possibly some of those accidents or connections, that might have injured the constitution or reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. Particular circumstances of particular persons, may possibly sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into that state ; but in ge- neral, when nature has rendered our bodies fit for it, the presumption is in nature's favour, that she has not judged amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages are often attended, too, with this further inconveni- ence, that there is not the same chance that the pa- rervt shall live to see their offspring educated. '* Late children," says the Spanish proverb, '* are early or- phans." A melancholy reflection to those whose case it may be. With us in America, marriages are ge- nerally in the morning of life ; our children are there- fore educated and settled in the world by noon ; and thus, our business being done, we have an afternoon and evening of chearful leisure to ourselves, such as our friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we are blessed with more children ; and from the mode among us, founded by nature, of every mother suck- ling and nursing her own child, more of them are raised. Thence the swift progress of population among us, unparalleled in Europe. In fine, 1 am glad you are married, and congratulate you most cordially uj)on it. You are now in the way of becoming a useful citizen ; and you have escaped the unnatural state of celibacy for life — the fate of many here, who never intended it, but who having too long postponed the change of their condition, find, at length, that it is too late to think of it, and so live all their lives in a situa- tion that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd vo- lume of a set of books bears not the value of its propor- tion to the set : what think you of the odd half of a pair of scissors ? it can't well do any thing; it may pos- sibly serve to scrape a trencher. Pray make my compliments and best wishes accepta- ble to your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should ESSAYS. 149 ere this have presented them in person. I shall make but small use of the old man's privilege, that of giving advice to younger friends. Treat your wife always with respect ; it will procure respect to you, not only from her, but from all that observe it. Never use a slighting expression to her, even in jest ; for slights in jest, after frequent bandyings, are apt to end in angry earnest. Be studious in your profession, and you will be learned. Be industrious and frugal, and you wil! be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you will be healthy. Be in general virtuous, and you will be hap- py. At least, you will, by such conduct, stand the best chance for such consequences. I pray God to bless you both i being ever your affectionate friend, B. FRANKLIN. ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER, Mr. JOHN FRANKLIN. TO MISS HUBBARD. I CONDOLE with you. We have lost a most dear and valuable relation. But it is the will of God and nature, that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why then should we grieve that a new child is born among the immor- tals, a new member added to their happy society ? We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or doing good lo our fellow-creatures, is a kind and N2 150 ESSAYS. benevolent act of God. When they become unfit fof these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a par- tial death. A mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, we willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it : and he who quits the whole body, parts at once with all pains, and possibilities of pains and diseases, it was lia- ble to, or capable of making him suffer. Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure, which is to last for ever. His chair was rea- dy first ; and he i& gone before us. We could not all conveniently start together : and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find him ? Adieu, B. FRANKLIN. TO THE LATE DOCTOR MATHER, OF BOSTON. REV. SIR, I RECEIVED your kind letter, with your excel- lent advice to the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings, though they may be lightly passed over by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impression on one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be considerable. ESSATSi iSl Permit me to mention one little instance, which, though it relates to myself, will not be quite uninterest- ing to you When I was a boy, I met with a book en- titled, " Essays to do good," which I think was written by your father It had been so little regarded by a for- mer possessor, that several leaves of it were, torn outj but the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on my conduct through life : for I have always set a greater value on the character of a doer of good, than any other kind of reputation : and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book. You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year. I am in my seventy-ninth. VVje are grown old together. It is now more than sixty years since I left Boston ; But I remember well both your father and grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. The last time I saw your father was in the beginning of 1724, when I visited him after my first trip to Pennsylvania : he received me in his li- brary ; and oft my takiiig leave shewed me Jja<&horter way out of the house, through a narrow passage, which was crossed by a beam over head. We were still talk- ing as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly towards him, when he said hastily, " Stoop, Stoop I" I did not understand him till I felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man who never missed any occasion of giving instruction ; and upon this he said to me : " You are young and have the world before you : stoop as you go through it, and you will miss many hard thumps." This advice thus beat into my heart, has frequently been of use to me; and I often think of it when I see pride mortified, and mis- fortunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads top high. I long much to see again my native place ; and once hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. I visit- ed it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 1763 ; and in 1773 I was in England. In 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not 152 ESSAYS. enter, it being in possession of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783, but could not obtain a dis- mission from this employment here ; and now I fear I shall never have that happiness. My best wishes how- ever attend my dear country, " esto per/ietua." It is now blessed with an excellent constitution : may it last for ever ! This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for the United States. It is a friendship of the utmost im- portance to our security, and should be carefully culti- vated. Britain has not yet well digested the loss of its dominion over us ; artd has still at times some flattering hopes of recovering it. Accidents may increase those hopes and encourage dangerous attemps. A breach between us and France ^ould infallibly bring the English again upon our backs: and yet we have some wild beasts among our cotintrymen, who are endeavouring to weaken that connection. Let us preserve our reputation, by performing our engagements ; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts ; and our iriends, by gratitude and kindness : for we know not how soon we may again have occasion for all of them. With great and sincere esteem, I have the honour to be, Reverend Sir, Your most obedient and most humble servant, B. FRANKLIN. Passy, May, 12, 1784. ESSAYS/ THE WHISTLE, A TRUE STORY. WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW. WHEN I was a child, at seven years old, my friends on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop where they sold toys for chil- dren ; and being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered him all my money for one. I then came home, and went a whistling all over the house, much pleased with my whistle^ but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters and cousins, under- standing the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth. This put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of my money ; and they laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation ; and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure. This however was afterwards of use to me, the im- pression continuing on my mind : so that often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself. Don't give too much for the whistle ; and so I saved m.y money. As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, '^\iO gave too much for the whistle. When I saw any one too ambitious of court favours, sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, This man gives too much for his whistle. I I IBAi ESSAYS. When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly 4|, employing himself in political bustles, neglecting his ^K; own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect : Ne pays * indeed^ says I, too much for his whistle. i If I knew a miser who gave up every kind of com- |l fbrtable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of , ^^ benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating ^' ^ "wealth : Poor many says I, you do indeed fiay too much for your whittle. When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal sensations ; Mistaken many says I, you are providing pain for yourself instead of pleasure : you give too much for your whistle. If I see one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his career in prison ; Alasy says I, he has paid deary very dear for his whistle. When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, mar- ried to an ill-natured brute of a husband : What a pity it isy says I, that she has paid so much for a whistle ! In short, I conceived that great part of the laiseries of mankind were brought upon them by the false esti- mates they had made of the value of things, and by their giving too much for their whistles. ;v*J^ EssAys. 155 A PETITION- TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE SUPERINTEN- DENCY OF EDUCATION. I ADDRESS myself to all the friends of" youth, and conjure them to direct their compassionate re- gards to my unhappy fate, in order to remove the pre- judices of which I am the victim. There are twin sisters of us : and the two eyes of man do not more Aj resemble, nor are capable of being upon better terms i^"^. with each other, than my sister and myself, were it not for the partiality of our parents, who make the most injurious distinctions between us. From my in- fancy I have been led to consider my sister as a being of more elevated rank. I was suffered to grow up without the leastjaistruction, while nothing was spared in her education. She had masters to teach her wri- ting, drawing, music, and other accomplishments ; but if by chance I touched a pencil, a pen, or a needle, I was bitterly rebuked : and more than once have I been beaten for being aukward, and wanting a graceful manner. It is true, my sister associated me with her upon some occasions ; but she always made a point of taking the lead, calling upon me only from necessity, or to figure by her side. But conceive, not, Sirs, that my complaints are in- stigated merely by vanity — No ; my uneasiness is oc- casioned by one object much more serious. It is th© practice in our family, that the whole business of pro- viding for its subsistence falls upon my sister and my- self. If any indisposition should attack my sister— 156 ESSAYS. and I mention it in confidence, upon this occasion, that she is subject to the gout, the rheuniatism and cramp, without making mention of other accidents — what would be the fate of our poor family ? Must not the regret of our parents be excessive, at having placed so great a difference between sisters who are so perfectly equal ? Alas ! we must perish from distress : for it would not be in my power even to scrawl a suppliant petition for relief, having been obliged to employ the hand of ano- ther in transcribing the request which I have now the honour to prefer to you. Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible of the injustice of an exclusive tenderness, and of the neces- sity of distributing their care and affection among all ^heir children equally. I am, with profound respect, Sirs, Your obedient servant, THE LEFT HAND. THE HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG. THERE are two sorts of people in the world, who, with equal degrees of health and wealth, and the other comforts of life, become the one happy, and the other miserable. This arises very much from the dif- ferent views in which they consider things, persons, and events; and the effect of those different views upon their own minds. In whatever situation men can be placed, they may find conveniences and inconveniencies ; in whatever ESSAYS. 157 company, they may find persons and conversation more or less pleasing : at whatever table, they may meet whh meats and drinks of better and worse taste, dishes better and worse dressed : in whatever climate, they will find good and bad weather : under whatever go- vernment, they may find good and bad laws, and good and bad administration of those laws; in whatever poem, or work of genius, they may see faults and beau- ties : in almost every face and every person, they may discover fine features and defects, good and bad quali- ties. Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people above-mentioned, fix their attention, those who are disposed to be happy, on the conveniences of things, the pleasant part of the conversation, the well dressed dishes, the goodness of the wines, the fine weather, &c. and enjoy all with cheerfulness. Those who are to be unhappy, think and speak only of the contraries. Hence they are continually discontented them- selves, and by their remarks, sour the pleasures of society ; offend personally many people, and make themselves every where disagreeable. If this turn of mind was founded in nature, such unhappy persons would be the more to be pitied. But as the disposi- tion to criticise, and to be disgusted, is, perhaps, taken up originally by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into a habit, which, though at present strong, may ne- vertheless be cured, when those who have it are con- vinced of its bad effects on their felicity ; 1 hope this little admonition may be of service to them, and put them on changing a habit, which, though in the exer- cise it is chiefly an act of imagination, yet has serious consequences in life, as it brings on real griefs and misfortunes. For as many are offended by, and nobody loves, this sort of people ; no one shews them more than the most common civility and respect, and scarcely that ; and this frequently puts them out of humour, and draws them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes them success, or will stir a step, or speak a word to favour their pretensions. If they incur public O 158 ESSAYS censure or disgrace, no one will defend or excuse, and' many join to aggravate their misconduct, and render them completely odious. If these people will not change this bad habit, and condescend to be pleased with what is pleasing, without fretting themselves and others about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid an acquaintance with them ; which is always disagreea- ble, and sometimes very inconvenient, especially when one finds one's self entangled in their quarrels. An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from experience, very cautious in this particular, and care- fully avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, like other philosophers, a thermometer to shew him the heat of the weather; and a barometer, to mark when it is likely to prove good or bad ; but there be- ing no instrument invented to discover at first sight, this unpleasing disposition in a person, he, for that pur- pose, made use of his legs ; one of which was remark- ably handsome, the other, by some accident, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at the first interview, regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no notice of the handsome leg, that was sufficient to determine my philosopher to have no further acquaintance with him. Every body has not this two-legged instrument ; but every one, with a little attention, may observe signs of that carping, fault-finding disposition, and take the same resolution of avoiding the acquaintance of those infected with it. I therefore advise those critical, queru- lous, discontented, unhappy people, that if they wish to be respected and beloved by others, and happy in them- selves, they should leave off looking at the ugly leg. ESSAYS, 1S9 CONVERSATION OF A COMPANY OF EPHEMERA i WITH THE SOLILOQUY OF ONE ADVANCED IN AGE, TO MADAME BRILLIANT. YOU may remember, my dear friend that when we lately spent that happy day, in the delightful gar- den and sweet society of the Moulin Joly^ I stopt a little in one of our walks, and staid some time behind the company. We had been shewn numberless skele- tons of a kind of little fly, called, an Ephemerae, whose successive generations, we were told, were bred and expired within the day. I happened to see a -living company of them on a leaf, who appeared to be en- gaged in conversation. You know I understand all the inferior animal tongues ; my too great application to the study of them, is the best excuse I can give for the little progress, I have made in your charming lan- guage. 1 listened through curiosity to the discourse of these little creatures ; but as they, in their natural vivacity, spoke three or four together, I could make but little of their conversation, I found, however, by somfe broken expressions that I heard now and then, they were disputing warmly on the merit of two for- eign musicians, the one a cousin^ the other a musche- to ; in which dispute they spent their time, seemingly as regardless of the shortness of life as if they had been 160 ESSAYS. sure of living a month. Happy people, thought I, you live certainly under a wise, just, and mild govern- ment, since you have no public grievances to com- plain of, nor any subject of contention, but the per- fections or imperfections of foreign music. I turned my bead from them to an old grey-headed one who was single on another leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his soliloque, I put it down in writing, in hopes it will likewise amuse her to whom I am so much indebted for the most pleasing of all amusements, her delicious company, and heavenly harmony. '' It was," says he, <* the opinion of learned philoso- phers of our race, who lived and flourished long before my time, that this vast world the Mouslin Joly could not itself subsist more than eighteen hours ; and I think there was some foundation for that opinion ; since, by the apparent motion of the great luminary, that gives life to all nature, and which in my time has evidently declined considerably towards the ocean at the end of our earth, it must then finish its course, be extin- guished in the waters that surround us, and leave the _-world in cold and darkness, necessarily producing uni- versal death and destruction. I have lived seven of those hours ; a great age, being no less than 420 minutes of time. How very few of us continue so long ! I have seen generations born, flourish, and ex- pire. My present friends are the children and grand- children of the friends of my youth, who are now, alas, no more ! And I must soon follow them ; for, by the course of nature, though still in health, I cannot ex- pect to live above seven or eight minutes longer. Wfiat now avails all my toil and labour, in amassing iioney-dew on this leaf, which I cannot live to enjoy ! What the political struggles I have been engaged in, tor the good of my corn-patriot inhabitants of this bush, or my philosophical studies, for the benefit of our race in general I for in politics (what can laws do without morals ?) our present race of Ephemerse will in a course of minutes become corrupt, like those of other and older bushes, and cons,e^yently as wretched: And in ESSAYS. 161 philosophy how small our progress i Alas ! art is long and life is short ! My friends would comfort me with the idea of a name, they say, I shall leave behind me ; and they tell me I have lived long enough to nature and to glory. But what will fame be to an Ephemerae who no longer exists ? and what will become of all histo- ry in the eighteenth hour, when the world itself, even the whole Moulin Joly^ shall come to its end, and be bu- ried in universal ruin ?" To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures now remain, but the reflection of a long life spent in meaning welli the sensible conversation of a few good lady Ephemerae, and now and then a kind smile and a tune from the ever amiable Brilliant. B, FRANKLIN. MORALS OF CHESS. PLAYING at chess is the most ancient and most universal game known among men ; for its original is beyond the memory of history, and it has, for number- less ages, been the amusement of all the civilized na- tions of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and the Chi- nese. Europe has had it above a thousand years ; the Spaniards have spread it over their part of America, and it begins lately to make its appearance in these states. It is so interesting in itself, as to not need the view of gain to induce engaging in it ; and thence it is never played for money. Those, therefore, who have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one that is more innocent ; and the following piece, written with a view to correct (among a few young friends) some little improprieties in the practice of it, shews, at the same time, that it m-^y, in its effects on the mind, be O 2 162 ESSAYS. not merely innocent, but advantageous, to the van- quished as well as the victor. The game of chess is not merely an idle amuse- ment. Several valuable qualities of the mind, useful in the course of human life, are to be acquired or strengthened by it, so as to become habits? ready on all occasions. For life is a kind of chess, in which we have often points to gain, and competitors or adversa- ries to contend with, and in which there is a vast varie- ty of good and ill events, that are in some degree, the effects of prudence or the want of it. By playing at chess, then, we may learn, I. Foresight^ which looks a little into futurity, and considers the consequences that may attend an action ; for it is continually occurring to the player, " If I move this piece, what will be the advantage of my new situation ? What use can my adversary make of it to annoy me ? What other moves can I make to support it, and to defend myself from his attacks ?'* II. Circumsfieciion, which surveys the whole chess- board, or scene of action, the relations of the several pieces and situations, the dangers they are respectively exposed to, the several possibilities of their aiding each other, the probabilities that the adversary may take this or that move, and attack this or the other piece, and what different means can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences against him. III. Caution., not to make our moves too hastily. This habit is best acquired by observing strictly the laws of the game, such as, *' If you touch a piece, you " must move it somewhere ; if you set it down, you ** must let it stand ;" and it is therefore best that these rules should be observed, as the game thereby becomes more the image of human life, and particularly of war; ' in which, if you have incautiously put yourselves into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot obtain your ^enemy's leave to withdraw your troops, and piace them more securely, but you must abide all the consequences of your rashness. ESSAYS. 163 And, lastly we learn by chess the habit of not being discouraged by firesent bad afifiearances in the state of our affairs^ the habit oi hofiing for a favourable change, and that o{ persevering in the search of resources. The game is so full of events, there is such a variety of turns in it, the fortune of it is so subject to sudden vi- cissitudes, and one so frequently, after long contem- plation, discovers the means of extricating oneself from a supposed insurmountable difficulty ; that one is en- couraged to continue the contest to the last, in hopes of victory by our own skill, or at least giving a stale mate, by the negligence of our adversary. And who- ever considers, what in chess he often sees instances of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce presumption, and its consequent inattention, by v^hich the loss may be recovered, will learn not to be too much discouraged by the present success of his adver- sary, nor to despair of final good fortune, upon every little check he receives in pursuit of it. That we may therefore, be induced more frequent- ly to choose this beneficial amusement, in preference to others, which are not attended with the same ad- vantages, every circumstance which may increase the pleasures of it should be regarded ; and every action or word that is unfair, disrespectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should be avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both the players, which is to pass the time agreeably. Therefore, first, \i it is agreed to play according to the strict rules : then those rules are to be exactly ob- served by both parties, and should not be insisted on for one side, while deviated from by the other for this is not equitable. Secondly, If it is agreed not to observe the rules ex- actly, but one party demands indulgences, he should then be as williny; to allow them to the other. Thirdly, No false move should ever be made to extri- cate yourself out of a difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected in such unfair practice. 164 ESSAYS. Fourthly, If your adversary is long in playing, you ought not to hurry him, or express any uneasiness at his delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your fin- gers on the table, nor do any thing that may disturb his attention. For all these things displease, and they do not show your skill in playing, but your craftiness or your rudeness. Fifthly, You ought not to endeavour to amuse and de- ceive your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying that you have now lost the game, in order to make him secure and careless, and inattentive to your schemes ; for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the game. Sixthly, You must not, when you liave gained a vic- tory, use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too much pleasure ; but endeavour to console your adversary, and make him less dissatisfied with himself, by every kind of civil expression that may be used with truth, such as, " You understand the game " better than I, but you are a little inattentive ;'* or, " you play too fast i" or, ''you had the best of the game, *' but something happened to divert your thoughts, and " that turned it in my favour." Seventhly, If you are a spectator while others play, observe the most perfect silence. For if you give ad- vice you offend both parties ; him against whom you give it, because it may cost the loss of his game ; him in whose favour you give it, because, though it be good and he follows it, he loses the pleasure he might have had, if you had permitted him to think until it had oc- curred to himself. Even after a move, or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, show how it might have been placed better ; for that displeases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about their true situation. All talking to the players lessens or diverts their atten- tion, and is therefore unpleasing. Nor should you give the least hint to either party, by any kind of noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be ESSAYS, 165 a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or show your judgment, do it in playing your own game, when you have an opportunity, not in criticising, or meddling with, or counselling the play of others. Lastly, if the game is not to be played rigorously, ac- cording to the rules above-mentioned, then moderate your desire of victory over your adversary, and be pleas- ed with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at eve- ry advantage offered by his unskilfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly, that by such a move he pla- ces or leaves a piece in danger and unsupported ; that by another he will put" his king in a perilous situation, &c. By this generous civility (so opposite to the un- fairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to lose the game to your opponent, but you will win what is better, his esteem, his respect, and his affection; to- gether with the silent approbation and good-will of im- partial spectators. THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS. INSCRIBED TO MISS***, Being- ivritten at her request. As a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during which we have sometimes pleasing and sometimes painful dreams, it becomes of some consequence to ob- tain the one kind and avoid the other ; for, whether real or imaginary, pain is pain, and pleasure is pleasure. If we can sleep without dreaming, it is well that pain- 166 ESSAYS' ful dreams are avoided. If, while we sleep, we can have any pleasing dreams, it is as the French say, tant gagney so much added to the pleasure of life. To this end it is, in the first place necessary to be careful in preserving health, by due exercise, and great temp^erance; for, in sickness, the imagination is disturb- ed ; and disagreeable, sometimes terrible ideas are apt to present themselves. Exercise should precede meals, not immediately follow them ; the first promotes, the latter, unless moderate, obstructs digestion. If, after exercise, we feed sparingly the digestion will be easy and good, the body lightsome, the temper cheerful, and all the animal functions performed agreeably. Sleep when it follows, will be natural and undisturbed. While indolence, with full feeding, occasion night- mares and horrors inexpressible : we fall from preci- pices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murderers and de- mons, and experience every variety of distress. Ob- serve, however that the quantities of food and exercise are relative things : those who move much may and indeed ought to eat more ; those who use little exer- cise, should eat little. In general, mankind, since the improvement in cookery, eat about twice as much as nature requires. Suppers are not bad, if we have not dined ; but restless nights naturally follow hearty sup- pers, after full dinners. Indeed as there is a difference in constitutions, some rest well after these meals ; it costs them only a frightful dream, and an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing is more com- mon in the newspapers, than instances of people, who, after eating a hearty supper, are found dead a-bed in the morning. Another means of preserving health, to be attended to, is the having a constant supply of fresh air in your bed-chamber. It has been a great mistake, the sleep- ing in rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded by eurtains. No outward air, that may come unto you, is so unwholesome as the unchanpjed air, often breath- ed, of a close chamber. As boiling water does not grow hotter by longer boiling, if the particles that ESSAYS. 167 receive greater heat can escape ; so living bodies do not putrify, if the particles as fast as they become pu- trid, can be thrown off. Nature expels them by the pores of the skin and lungs, and in a free open air, they are carried off; but in a close room, we receive them again and again, though they become more and more corrupt. A number of persons crowded into a small room, thus spoil the air in a few minutes, and even render it mortal, as in the Black Hole at Calcutta. A single person is said to spoil only a gallon of air per minute, and therefore requires a longer time to spoil a chamber full ; but it is done, however, in proportion, and many putrid disorders hence have their origin. It is recorded of Methusalem, who being the longest liver, may be supposed to have best preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air ; for, when he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to iiim : " Arise, Methusalem ; and build thee an house, for <« thou shalt, live yet five hundred years longer." But Methusalem answered and said : " If I am to live but " five hundred years longer, it is not worth while to " build me an house — I will sleep in the air as I have " been used to do." Physicians after having for ages contended that the sick should not be indulged with fresh air, have at length discovered that it may do them good. It is therefore to be hoped that they may in time discover likewise that it is not hurtful to those who are in health; and that we may be then cured of the aero- fihobia that at present distresses weak minds, and make them choose to be stifled and poisoned, rather than leave open the windows of a bed-chamber, or put down the i^lafis of a coach. Confined air, when saturated with perspirable mat- ter,* will not receive more ; and that matter must re- * What physicians call the perspirable matter, is that vapour which passes oft' from our bodies, from ihe lungs, and through the pores of the skin. The quantity of this is said to be five eighths of what we eat. 168 ESSAYS. main in our bodies, and occasion diseases : but it gives some previous notice of its being about to be hurtful, by producing certain uneasiness, slight indeed at first, such as, with regard to the lungs, is a trifling sensa- tion, and to the pores of the skin a kind of restlessness ■which is difficult to describe, and few that feel it know the cause of it. But we may recollect, that sometimes, on waking in the night, we have, if warmly covered, found it difficult to get asleep again. We turn often without finding repose in any position. This figgetti- ness, to use a vulgar expression for want of a better, is occasioned wholly by an uneasiness in the skin, owing to the retention of the perspirable matter — the bed clothes having received their quantity, and, being satu- rated, refusing to take any more. To become sensible of this by an experiment, let a person keep his position in the bed, but throw off the bed-clothes and suff*er fresh air to approach the part uncovered of his body ; he will then feel that part suddenly refreshed ; for the air will immediately relieve, the skin, by receiving, licking uP) and carrying off, the load of perspirable matter that incommoded it. For every portion of cool air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its part of that vapour, receives therewith a degree of heat, that rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed away, with its burthen, by cooler, and therefore heavier fresh air ; which, for a moment sup- plies its place, and then, being likewise changed, and warmed, gives way to a succeeding quantity. This is the order of nature, to prevent animals being infected by their own perspiration. He will now be sensible of the difference between the part exposed to the air, and that which remaining sunk in the bed, denies the air access : for this part now manifests, its uneasiness more distinctly by the comparison, and the seat of the unea- siness is more plainly perceived, than when the whole surface of the body was affected by it. Here, then, is one great and general cause of un- pleasing dreams. For when the body is uneasy, the mind will be disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of ESSAYS. 1-69 various kinds, will, in sleep, be the natural conse- quences. The remedies, preventive and curative^ follow : 1. By eating moderately, (as before advised for health's sake) less perspirable matter is produced in a given time ; hence the bed-clothes receive it longer before they are saturated ; and we may, therefore, sleep longer, before we are made uneasy by their refusing to receive any more. 2. By using thinner and more porous bed-clothes, which will suffer the perspirable matter more easily to pass through them, we are less incommoded, such be- ing longer tolerable. 3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and find you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat up and turn your pillow, shake the bed-clothes well, with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open, and leave it to cool ; in the mean while, continuing undrest, walk about your chamber, till your skin has had time to discharge its load, which it will do sooner as. the air may be drier and colder. When you begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, then return lo your bed ; and you Vi^ill soon fall asleep, and your sleep will be sweet and pleasant. All the scenes presented to your fancy, will be of the pleasant kind. I am often as agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery of an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out of bed, you may, instead of it, lift up your bed- clothes with one arm and leg, so as to draw in a good deal of fresh air, and, by letting them fall, force it out again. 7'his, repeated twenty times, will so clear them of the perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to per- mit your sleeping well for some time afterwards. But this latter method is not equal to the former. Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to have two beds, will find great luxury in rising, when they wake in a hot bed, and going into the cool one. Such shiftings of beds would also be of great service to persons ill in a fever, as it refreshes and frequently procures sleep. A very large bed, that will admit a P 170 ESSAYS. removal so distant from the first situation as to be cool and sweet, may in a degree answer the same end. One or two observations more will conclude this little piece. Care must be taken, when you lie down, to dispose your pillow so as to suit your manner of placing your head, and to be perfectly easy ; then place your limbs so as not to bear inconveniently hard upon one another, as for instance, the joints of your ancles ; for though a bad position may at first give but little pain, and be hardly noticed, yet a continuance will ren- der it less tolerable, and the uneasiness may come on while you are asleep and disturb your imagination. These are the rules of the art. But though they will generally prove effectual in producing the end in- tended, there is a case in which the most punctual ob- servance of them will be totally fruitless. I need not mention the case to you, my dear friend : but my ac- count of the art would be imperfect without it. The case is, when the person who desires to have pleasant dreams has not taken care to preserve, what is neces- sary above all things, A GOOD CONSCIENCE. EbSAYS. 171 ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. WRITTEN ANNO 1748. To viy Friend A, B. ^s you have desired iC of me-^ I write the following hints^ tvhich have been of service to me^ and may^ if observ- edj be so to you. REMEMBER that time is money. He that can earn ten shillings a day by his labour, and goes abroad, or sits idle one half of that day, though he spends but six- pence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only expense ; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides. Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so much as I can make of it during that time. This amounts to a considerable sum where a man has good and large credit, and makes good use of it. Remember that money is of a prolific generating- nature. Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more, and so on. Five shillings turned is six ; turned again, it is seven and three pence ; and so on till it becomes an hundred pounds. The more there is of it, the more it produces every turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that kills a breeding sow, destroys all her offspring to the thousandlh generation. He that murders a crown, de- stroys all that it might have produced, even scores of pounds. 172 • ESSAYS. Remember that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. For this little sum, which may be daily wasted either in time or expense, unperceived, a man of cre- dit may, on his own security, have the constant pos- session and use of an hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious man, produces great advantages. Remember this saying-, « The good paymaster is lord of another man's purse.'* He that is known to pay punctually and exactly to the time he promises, may at any time, and on anyi5ccasion, raise all the mo- ney his friends can spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry and frugality, nothing contributes more to the raising of a young man in the world, tl>an punctuality and justice in all his dealings : therefore never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you promised, least a disappointment shut up your iriend*s purse for ever. The most trifling actions that affects a man's credit are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at live in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a credi- tor, makes him easy six months longer ; but if he sees you at a billiard table, or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for his money the next day ; demands it before he can receive it in a lump. It shews, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe ; it makes you appear a careful, as well as an ho- nest man, and that still increases your credit. Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and of living accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who have credit fall into, 'i'o prevent this keep an exact account, for some time, both of your expences and your income. If you take the pains at first to men- tion particulars, it will have this good effect ; you will discover how wond^erfully small trifling expences mount up to large sums, and will discern what uiight have been, and may for the future be saved, without occa- sioning any great inconvenience. ESSAYS. 173 In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, iriflustry and frugality ; that is, waste neither time nor money, but make the best use of both. With- out industry and fruc^alify nothing will do, and with them every thing. He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets, (necessary expences excepted) will certainly become rich — if that Being who governs the world, to whom all should look for a blessing on their honest endeavours, doth not, in his wise Provi- dence, otherwise determine. AN OLD TRADESMAN. NECESSARY HINTS TO THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH. WRITTEN ANNO 1736. THE use of money is all the advantage there is in having money. For six pounds a year you may have the use of one hundred pounds, provided you are :a man of known prudence and honesty. He that spends a groit a day idly, spends idly above six pounds a year, which is the price for the use of one hundred pounds. He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time, per day, one day with another, wastes the privilege of using one hundred pounds each day. He that idly loses five shillings worth of tinie, loses five shillings, and might as prudently throw fiv© shil- lings into the sea. P5 i7'i» ESSAYS. He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but all the advantage that might be made by turning it in dealing, which by the time that a young man becomes old, will amount to a considerable sum of money. Again : he that sells upon credit, asks a price for what he sells equivalent to the principal and interest of his money for the time he is to be kept out of it ; therefore, he that buys upon credit, pays interest for what he buys ; and he that pays ready money, might let that money out to use ; so that he that possesses any thing he has bought, pays interests for the use of it. Yet in buying goods it is best to pay ready money, because he that sells upon credit, expects to lose five per cent, by bad debts ; therefore he charges, on all hie sells upon credit, an advance that s^bail make up that dejficiency. Those who pay for what they buy upon credit pay their share of this advance. He that pays ready money, escapes, or may escape, that charge. A penny sav*d is two-pence clear ; A pin a day*s a gi'oat a year. THE WAY TO MAKE MONEY PLENTY IN EVERY MAN'S POCKET, AT this time, when the general complaint is that — .*< money is scarce," it wilf be an act of kindness to inform the moneyless how they may reinforce their' pockets. I will acquaint them with the true secret of money-catching — the certain way to fill empty purses —and how to keep them always full. Two simple rules, well observed, will do the business. ESSAYS. If 3 First, let honesty and industry be thy constant com- panions ; and. Secondly, spend one penny less than thy clear gains. Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to thrive, and will never again cry with the empty bellyr ache ; neither will creditors insult thee, nor want op- press, nor hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will shine brighter, and pleasure spring up in every corner of thy heart. Now^ there- fore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live inde- pendent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not hide thy face at the approach of the rich, nor suffer the pain of feeling little when the sons of fortune walk at thy right hand : for independency, whether with little or much, is good fortune, and placeth thee on even ground with the proudest of the golden fleece. Oh then, be wise, and let industry walk with thee in the morning, and attend thee until thou reachest the evening hour for rest. Let honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and never forget to have a penny, when, all thy expences are enumerated and paid ; then shalt thou reach the point of happiness, and independence shall be thy shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown ; then shall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop to the silken wretch because he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse because the hand which offers it wears a ring set with diamonds. 1^6 ESSAYS. AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT. [A Translation of this letter appeared in one of the Daily Papers of Paris, about the Year 1784. The following is the original Piece, with some Additions and Corrections made in it by the Author,] To the Authors of the Journal. MESSIEURS, YOU often entertain us with accounts of new disco- veries. Permit me to communicate to the public, thiough your paper, one that has lately, been made by myself, and which I conceive may be of great utility. I was the other evening in a grand company, where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was in- troduced, and much admired for its splendor ; but a general enquiry was made, whether the oil it consumed, was not in proportion to the light it afforded, in which case there would be no saving in the use of it. No one present could satisfy us in that point, which all agreed ought to be keown, it being a very desirable thing ta lessen, if possible, the expence of lighting our apart- ments, when every other article of family expence was so much augmented. I was pleased to see this general concern for oecono- my ; for I love ceconomy exceedingly. I went home> and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, with my head full of the subject. An ac- cidental sudden noise waked me about six in the morn- I ESSAYS. ;l7f ing, when I was surprised to find my room filled wkh light ; and I imagined at first, that a number of those lamps had been brought into it : but rubbing my eyes, I perceived the light came in at the windows. I got up and looked out to see what might be the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising above the horizon, from whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber ; my domestic having negligently omitted the preceding evening to close the shutters. I looked at my watch, wkich goes very well, and found that it was but six o'clock ; and still thinking it something extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I looked into the almanack ; where I found it to be the hour given for his rising on that day. I looked forward too, and found he was to rise still ear- lier every day till toward the end of June ; and that at no time in the year he retarded his rising so long as till eight o'clock. Your readers, who with me have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and sel- dom regard the astronomical part of the almanack, will be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his rising so early ; and especially when I assure them that he gives light as soon as he rises. I am convinced of this. I am certain of the fact. One cannot be more certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And having repeated this observation the three following mornings, I found always precisely the same result. Yet it so happens, that when 1 speak of this discove- ry to others, I can easily perceive by their counte- nances, though they forbear expressing it in words, that they do not quite believe me. One, indeed, who is a learned natural philosopher, has assured me, that I must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of the light coming into my room : for it being well known, as he says, that there could be no light abroad at that hour, it follows that none could enter from without : and that of consequence, my windows being accidentally left open, instead of letting in the light, had only served to let out the darkness : and he used 178 ESSAYS. many ingenious arguments to shew mc how I might, by that means, have been deceived. I ovv'n that he puzzled me a little, but he did not satisfy me ; and the subsequent observations I made, as above mention- ed, confirmed me in my first opinion. This event has given rise, in my mind, to several serious and important reflections. I considered that, if I had not been av^akened so early in the morning, I should have slept six hours longer by the light of- the sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the follow- ing night by candle-light ; and the latter being a much more expensive light than the former, my love of oeco-- nomy induced me to muster up what little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calculations, which I shall give you, after observing, that utility is, in my opinion, the test of value in matters of invention, and that a discovery which can be applied to no use, or is not good for something, is good for nothing. I took for the basis of my calculation the supposi- tion that there are 100,000 families in Paris, and that these families consume in the night half a pound of bougies, or candles per hour. I think this is a mo- derate allowance, taking one family with another ; for though I believe some consume less, I know that many consume a great deal more. Then estimating seven hours per day, as the medium quantity between the time of the sun*s rising and ours, he rising during the six following months from six to eight hours be- fore noon, and there being seven hours of course per night in which we burn candles, the account will stand thus— In the six months between the twentieth of March and the twentieth of September, there are Nights - 183 Hours of each night in which we burn candles 7 Multiplication gives for the total num- ber of hours ..---- i.^81 ESSAYS. 179 These IjSai hours multiplied by 100,000 the number of inhabitants, give - - 128,100,000 One hundred twenty-eight millions and one hundred thousand hours, spent at Paris by candle-light, which, at half a pound of wax and tallow per hour, gives the weight of 64,050,000 Sixty-four millions and fifty thousand of pounds, which, estimating the whole at the medium price of thirty sols the pound, make the sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres tournois - - 96,075,000 An immense sum ! that the city of Paris might save every year, by the oeconomy of using sunshine instead of candles. If it should be said, that the people are apt to be obstinately attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to induce them to rise before noon, conse- quently my discovery can be of little use ; I answer. Nil desfierandum. I believe all who have common sense, as soon as they have learnt from this paper that it is day-light when the sun rises, will contrive to rise with him ; and to compel the rest, I would propose the following regulations : First. Let a tax be laid of a lois per window, on every window that is provided with shutters to keep out the light of the sun. Second. Let the same salutary operation of police be made use of to prevent our burning candles, that inclined us last winter to be more osconomical in burn- ing wood; that is, let guards be placed in the shops of the wax and tallow-chandlers, and no family be per- mitted to be supplied with more than one pound of can- dles per week. Third. Let guards be posted to stop all the coaches, &c. that would pass the streets after sunset, except those of physicians, surgeons and midwives. ISO ESSAYS. Fourth. Every morning as soon as the sun rises, let all the bells in every church be set ringing ; and if that is not sufficient, let cannon be fired in every street, and wake the sluggards effectually, and make them open their eyes to see their true interest. All the difficulty will be in the first two or three days ; after which the reformation will be as natural and easy as the present irregularity : for, ce n*€st que Ic premier fias qui coute. Oblige a man to rise at four in the morning, and it is more than probable he shall go willingly to bed at eight in the evening ; and hav- ing had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly at four the morning following. But this sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres is not tlie whole of what may be saved by my ceconomical projeet. You may observe, that I have calculated upon only one half the year, and much may be saved in the otner, though the days are shorter. Besides, the im- mense stock of wax and tallow left unconsumed during the summer, will probably make candles much cheaper for the ensuing winter, and continue cheaper as long as *he proposed reformation shall be supported. For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely communicated and bestowed by me on the public, I demand neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, nor any other reward whatever. I expect only to have the honour of it. And yet I know there are little envi- ous minds who will, as usual, deny me this, and say that my invention was known to the ancients, and perhaps they may bring passages out of the old books in proof of it. I will not dispute with these people that the ancients knew not the sun would rise at cer- tain hours ; they possibly had, as we have, almanacks that predicted it ; but it does not follow from thence that they knew he gave light as noon as he rose. This is what I claim as my discovery. If the ancients knew it, it must long since have been forgotten, for it certainly was unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians ; which to prove I need use but one plain simple argument. I'hey are as well instructed, judi-; ESSAYS. • rsi cious, and prudent a people as exist any where in the world, all professing, like myself, to be lovers of (Eco- nomy ; and, from the many heavy taxes required from them by the necessities of the state, have surely reason to be oeconomical. I say it is impossible that so sensi- ble a people, under such circumstances should have lived so long by the smoky, unwholesome, and enor- mously expensive light of candles, if they had really known that they might have had as much pure light of the sun for nothing. I am, Sec, AN ABONNE. ON MODERN INNOVATIONS. IN THE ENGLISH LANGUAGE, AND IN PRINTING To NoAH Webster, Jun. Esq. at Hartford. Philadelphia, Dec. 26, 1789. liear Sir, I RECEIVED, some time since, your Dissertations on the English Language, It is an excellent work, and will be greatly useful in turning the thoughts of our countrymen to correct writing. Please to accept ray thanks for it, as well as for the great honour you have done me in its dedication, I ought to have made this acknowledgment sooner, but much indisposition prevented me. I cannot but applaud your zeal fpr preserving the purity of our language both in its expression and pro- Q 182 ESSAYS, nunciation, and in correcting the popular errors seve«> ral of our states are continually falling into with res* pect to both. Give me leave to mention some of them, though possibly they may already have occurred to you. I wish, however, that in some future publica- tion of yours you would set a discountenancing mark upon them, The first I remember, is the word im- firoved. When I left New-England in the year 1723, this word had never been used among us, as far as I know, but in the sense of ameliorated^ or made better^ except once in a very old book of Dr. Mathers, enti- tled, Remarkable fir ovidences. As that man wrote a very obscure hand, I remember that when I read that word in his book, used instead of the word em- ployed^ I conjectured that it was an error of the prin- ter, who had mistaken a short / in the writing for an r and a y with too short a tail for a v^ whereby em- ployed was converted into improved : but when I re- turned to Boston in 1733, I found this change had ob- tained favour, and was then become common ; for I ;tnet with it often in perusing the newspapers, where it frequently made an appearance rather ridiculous. Such, for instance, as the advertisement of a country house to be sold, which had been many years improved as a tavern ; and in the character of a deceased coun- try gentleman, that he had been, for more than thirty years, improved as a justice of the peace. This use of the word improve is peculiar to New-England, and not to be met with among any other speakers of English, either on this or the other side of the water. During my late absence in France, I find that seve- ral other new words have been introduced into our pariiamentary language. For example, I find a verb formed from the substantive notice* I should not have noticed this^ ivhere it not that the gentleman^ &c. Al- so another verb from the substantive advocate ; The gentleman who advocates, or who has advocated that inotion^ 8cc. Another from the substantive progress^ the most awkward and abominable of the three : The ':Qru?nUtee having progressed, resolved to adjourn. The ESSAYS. "183 word ofifiosedy though not a new word, I find used in a new manner, as, The gentlemen tvho are opposed to this measure, to which I have also myself alivay ft been oppos* cd. If you should happen to be of my opinion with respect to these innovations, you will use your autho- rity in reprobating them. The Latin language, long the vehicle used in dis- tributing knowledge among the different nations of Europe, is daily more and more neglected ; and one of the modern tongues, viz. French, seem in point of universality, to have supplied its place. It is spoken in all the courts of Europe; and most of the literati, those even who do not speak it, have acquired a know- ledge of it, to enable them easily to read the books that are written in it. This gives a considerable ad- vantage to that nation. It enables its authors to incul- cate and spread through other nations, such sentiments and opinions, on important points, as are most condu- cive to its interests, or which may contribute to its re- putation, by promoting the common interests, of man- kind. It is, perhaps, owing to its being written in French, that Voltaire's Treatise on Toleration has had so sudden and so great an effect on the bigotry of Eu- rope, as almost entirely to disarm it. The general use of the French language has likewise a very advanta- geous effect on the profits of the bookselling branch of commerce, it being well known, that the more copies can be sold that are struck off from one composition of types, the profits increase in a much greater proportion than they do in making a greater number of pieces in any other kind of manufacture. And at present there is no capital town in Europe without a French booksel- ler's shop corresponding with Paris. Our English bids fair to obtain the second place. The great body of ex- cellent printed sermons in our language, and the free- dom of our writings on political subjects, have induced a great number of divines of different sects and nations, as well as gentlemen concerned in public affairs to stu- dy it, so far at least as to read it. And if v/e \vere to 184 ESSAYS. endeavour the facilitating its progress, the study of our tongue might become much more general. Those who have employed some part of their time in learning a new language, must have frequently observed, that while their acquaintance with it was imperfect, diffi- culties, small in themselves, operated as great ones in obstructing their progress. A book for example, ill printed, or a pronunciation in speaking not well arti- culated, would render a sentence unintelligible, which from a clear print, or a distinct speaker, would have heen immediately comprehended. If therefore, we would have the benefit of seeing our language more generally known among mankind, we should endeavour to remove all the difficulties, however small, that dis- courage the learning of it. But I am sorry to observe, that of late years, those difficulties, instead of being diminished, have been augmented. In examining the English books that were printed between the restoration and the accession of George the Second, we may observe, that all substantives were be- gun with a capital, in which we imitated our mother tongue, the German. This was more particularly xiseful to those who were not well acquainted with the English, there being such a prodigious number of our words that are both verbs and substantives, and spelt in the same manner, though often accented differently in pronunciation. This method has, by the fancy of printers, of late years, been entirely laid aside ; from an idea, that suppressing the capitals shews the charac- ter to greater advantage ; those letters, prominent above the line, disturbing its even, regular appearance. The effect of this change is so considerable, that a learned man in France, who used to read our books, though not perfectly acquainted with our language, in conversation with me on the subject of our authors, attributed the greater obscurity he found in our mo- dern books, compared with those written in the period above mentioned, to change of style for the worse in our writers ; of which mistake I convinced him, by marking for him each substantive with a capital, in a ESSAYS. 185 paragraph, which he then easily understood, though be- fore he could not comprehend it. This shews the in- convenience of that pretended improvement. From the same fondness for an uniform and even appearance of characters in the line, the printers have of late banished also the Italic types, in which words of importance to be attended to in the sense of the sen- tence, and words on which an emphasis should be put in reading, used to be printed. And lately another fancy has induced other printers to use the round s in- stead of the long one, which formerly served well to disjinguish a word readily by its varied appearance. Certainly the omitting this prominent letter makes a line appear more even, but it renders it less immedi- ately legible ; as the paring of all men*s noses might smooth and level their faces, but would render their physiognomies less distinguishable. Add to all these improvements backwards, another modern fancy, that grey printing is more beautiful than black. Hence the English new books are printed in so dim a charac- ter, as to be read with difficulty by old eyes, unless in a very strong light, and with good glasses. Who- ever compares a volume of the Gentleman's Magazine, printed between the years 1731 and 1740, with one of those printed in the last ten years, will be convinced of the much greater degree of perspicuity given by black than by the grey. Lord Chesterfield pleasantly remarked this diiference to Faulkener, the printer of the Dublin Journal, who was vainly making encomiums on his own paper, as the most complete of any in the world. " But Mr. Faulkener,'* says my lord, <* don't ** you think it might be still farther improved, by using " paper and ink not quite so near of a colour." — For all these reasons I cannot but wish that our American printers would, in their editions, avoid these fancied improvements, and thereby render their works more agreeable to foreigners in Europe, to the great advan- tage of our bookselling commerce. Farther, to be more sensible of the advantage of clear and distinct printing, let us consider the assistance Q 2 18*6 ESSAYS* it affords in reading well aloud to an auditory. In so doing the eye generally slides forward three or four words before the voice. If the sight clearly distin- guishes what the coming words are, it gives time to alter the modulation of the voice, to express them pro- perly. But if they are obscurely printed, or disguised by omitting the capitals and long f*s, or otherwise, the reader is apt to modulate wrong, and finding he has done so, he is obliged to go back and begin the sen- tence again ; which lessens the pleasure of the hearers. This leads me to mention an old error in our mode of printing. We are sensible that when a question is met with in the reading, there is a proper variation to be used in the management of the voice. We have, there- fore, a point, called an interrogation, affixed to the question, in order to distinguish it. But this is absurdly placed at its end, so that the reader does not discover it till he finds that he has wrongly modulated his voice, and is therefore obliged to begin again the sentence. To prevent this, the Spanish printers, more sensibly, place an interrogation at the beginning as well as at the end of the question. We have another error of the same kind in printing plays, where some thing often occurs that is marked as spoken as/rfe.— But the word aside is placed at the end of the speech, when it ought to precede it, as a direction to the reader, that he may govern his voice accordingly. The practice of our ladies in meeting five or six together, to form little busy parties, where each is employed in some useful work, while one reads to them, is so commendable in Itself, that it deserves the attention of authors and prin- ters to make it as pleasing as possible, both to the readers and hearers. My best wishes attend you, being, with sincere esteem, Sir, your most obedient and very humble servant, B. FRANKLIN, ESSAYSl 187 AN ACCOUNT OF THE HIGHEST COURT OF JUDICATURE IN PENNSYLVANIA, VIZ. THE COURT OF THE PRESS, Power of this CourL It may receive and promulgate accusations of all kinds, against all persons and characters among the citizens oP^he state, and even against all inferior courts ; and may judge, sentence, and condemn to in- famy, not only private individuals, but public bodies^ &c. with or without inquiry or hearing, at the court's discretion. Whose favouTi or for whose emolument this court is and so forth, Are cofiy fiafier of inferior worth ; Less priz'd, more useful, for your desk decreed, Free to all pens, and prompt at ev'ry need. The wretch whom av*rice bids to pinch and sparcj Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, Is coarse brown paper ; such as pedlars choose To wrap up wares, which better men will use. Take next the miser's contrast, who destroys Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. Will any paper match him ? Yes, throughout, He's a true sinking paper past all doubt. The retail politician's anxious thought Deems this side always right, and that stark nought; He foams with censure ; with applause he raves — A dupe to rumours, and a tool of knaves ; He'll want no type his weakness to proclaim^ While such a thing qs/ooIs-cqP has a name. The hasty gentleman, whose bloods runs high, Who picks a quarrel, if you step a-wry, Who can't a jest, or hint, or look endure : What's he ? What ? Touch-paper to be sure. What are our poets, take them as they fall ; Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all ; Them and their works in the same class you'll find j They are the mere ivaste-paper of mankind. Observe the maiden, innocently sweet, She's fair nvhite-paper, an unsullied sheet : On which the happy man whom fate ordains, May write his naine^ and take her for his pains. ESSAYS. 193 One instance more, and only one I'll bring ; *Tis the Great Man who scorns a little thing, Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his own, Form'd on the feelings of his heart alone : True genuine royal-fiafier is his breast ; Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best. ON TBIE ART OF SWIMMING. In answer to some inquiries of M. Dubourg* on the subject. I AM apprehensive that I shall not be able to find leisure for making all the disquisitions and experiments which would be desirable on this subject. I must there- fore, content myself with a few remarks. The specific gravity of some human bodies, in com- parison to that of water, has been exumined by M. Robinson, in our Philosophic^ Transactions, volume 50, page 30, for the year {7b7, He asserts, that fat persons with small bones float most easily upon water. The diving be His accurately described in our Trans- actions. When I was a boy, I made two oval pallets, each about ten inches long, and six broad, with a hole for the thumb, in order to retain it fast in the palm of my hand. They much resemble a painter's pallets. In swimming I pushed the edges of these forward, and I struck the water with their flat surfj^ces as I * Translator of Dr. Franklin's works into French. R 194 ESSAYS. drew them back. I remember I swam faster by means of these pallets, but they fatigued my wrists — I also fitted to the soles of my feet a kind of saiidals ; but I was not satisfied with them, because I observed that the stroke is partly given with the inside of the feet and the ancles, and not entirely with the soles of the feet. We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are made of double sail-cloth, with small pieces of cork quilted in between them. I know nothing of the scafihandre of M. de la Chappelle. I know by experience that it is a great comfort to a swimmer, who has a considerable distance to go, to turn himself sometimes on his back, and to vary in other respects the means of procuring a progressive motion. When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the me- thod of driving it away is to give to the parts affected a sudden vigorous, and violent shock ; which he may do in the air as he swims on his back. During the great heats of summer there is no dan- ger in bathing, however warm we may be, in rivers which have been thoroughly warmed by the sun. But to throw oneself into cold spring water, when the body has been heated by exercise in the sun, is an impru- dence which may prove fatal. I once knew an in- stance of four young men, who, having worked at har» vest in the heat of the day, with a view of refreshing them.selves plunged into a spring of cold water : two died upon the spot, a third the next morning, and the fourth recovered with great difficulty. A copious dranjght of cold water, in similar circumstances, is fre- quently attended with the same effect in North Ame- rica. The exercise of swimming is one of the most heal- thy and agreeable in the world. After having swam for an hour or two in the evening, one sleeps coolly the whole night, even during the most ardent heat of summer. Perhaps the pores being cleansed, the in- ESSAYS. 195 sensible perspiration increases an^ occasions tills cool- ness.— It is certain that much swimming is the means of stopping a diarrhoea, and even of producing a con- stipation. With respect to those who do not know how to swim, or who are affected with a diarrhoea at a season which does not permit them to use that ex- ercise, a warm bath by cleansing and purifying the skin, is found very salutary, and often effects a radi- cal cure. I speak from my own experience, frequent- ly repeated, and that of others to whom I have recommended this. You will not be displeased if I conclude these hasty remarks by informing you, that as the ordinary me- thod of swimming is reduced to the act of rowing with the arms and legs, and is consequently a labori- ous and fatiguing operation when the space of water to be crossed is considerable ; there is a method in which a swimmer may pass to great distances with much facility by means of a sail. This discovery I fortunately made by accident, and in the following manner : When I was a boy I amused myself one day with flying a paper kite ; and approaching the bank of a pond which was near a mile broad, I tied the string to a stake, and the kite ascended to a very considera- ble height above the pond, while I was swimming. In a little time, being desirous of amusing myself with my kite, and enjoying at the same time the plea- sure of swimming, I returned ; and loosing from the stake the string with the little stick which was fasten- ed to it, went again into the water, where I found, that lying on my back, and holding the stick in my hands, I was drawn along the surface of the water in a very agreeable manner. Having then engaged ano- ther boy to carry my clothes round the pond to a place which I pointed out to him on the ot^ier side, I began to cross the pond with my kite, which carried me quite over without the least fatigue, and with the greatest pleasure imaginable. I was only obliged oc- casionally to halt a little in my course, and resist its 196 ESSAYS. progress j when it appeared that, by following too quick, I lowered the kite to much ; by doing which occa- sionally I made it rise again. I have never since that time practised this singular mode of swimming, though I think it not impossible to cross in this manner from Dover to Calais. The packet-boat, however, is still preferable, NEW MODE OF BATHING. KXTRACTS OF LETTERS TO M. DUBOURG. London, July 28, 1768. I GREATLY approve the epithet you give, in your letter of the 8th of June to the new method of treating the small-pox, which you call the eonic or bracing method ; I will take occasion, from it, to men- tion a practice to which I have accustomed myself. You know the cold bath has long been in vogue here as a tonic ; but the shock of the cold water has al- ways appeared to me, generally speaking, as too vio- lent ; and I have found it much more agreeable to my constitution to bathe in another element, I mean cold air. With this view I rise early almost every morn- ing, and sit in my chamber without any clothes what ever, half an hour or an hour, according to the season, either reading or writing. This practice is not in the least painful, but, on the contrary, agreeable ; and if I return to bed afterwards, before I dress myself, as some- times happens, I make a supplement to my night's rest ESSAYS. 197 of one or two hours of the most pleasing sleep that can be imagined. I find no ill consequences whatever re- sulting from it, and that at least it does not injure my health, if it does not in fact contribute much to its pre- servation. I shall therefore call it for the future a bra- cing or tonic bath. March 10, 1773. I shall not attempt to explain why damp clothes oc- casion colds, rather than wet ones, because I doubt the fact; I imagine that neither the one nor the other contribute to this effect, and that the causes of colds are totally independent of wet and even of cold. I propose writing a short paper on this subject, the first leisure moment I have at my disposal. In the mean time I can only say, that having seme suspicions that the common notion, which attributes to cold the pro- perty of stopping the pores and obstructing perspira- tion, was ill-founded, I engaged a young physician, who is making some experiments with Sanctorius's balance, to estimate the different proportions of his perspiration, when remaining one hour quite naked, and another warmly clothed. ^He pursued the experiment in this alternate manner for eight hours successively, and found his perspiration almost double during those hours in which he was naked. 198 ESSAYS. OBSERVATIONS ON THE GENERALLY PRE- VAILING DOCTRINES OF LIFE AND DEATH. ^, TO THE SAME. YOUR observations on the causes of death, and the experiments which you propose for recalling to life those who appear to be killed by lightnings, demonstrate equally your sagacity and humanity. It appears that the doctrines of life and death, in general, are yet but little understood. A toad, buried in sand, will live, it is said, until the sand becomes petrified ; and then, being inclosed m the stone, it may still live for we know not how many ages. The facts which are cited in support of this opinion, are too numerous and too circumstantial not to deserve a certain degree of credit. As we are accustomed to see all the animals with which we are acquainted eat and drink, it appears to us difficult to conceive how a toad can be supported in such a durt- geon. But if we reflect, that the necessity of nourish- ment, which animals experience in their ordinary state, proceeds from the continual waste of their substance by perspiration : it will appear less incredible that some animals in a torpid state, perspiring less because they iiss^fio exercise, should have less need of aliment; and that others, which are covered with scales or shells, which stop perspiration, such as land and sea turtles, serpents, and some species of fish, should be able to subsist a con- siderable time without any nourishment whatever. A plant, with its flowers, fades and dies immediately, if exposed to the air without haying its roots immersed in ESSAYS.' 199 a humid soil, from wtiich it may draw a sufficient quan- tity of moisture, to supply that which exhales from its substance, and is carried off continually by the air. Perhaps, however, if it were buried in quicksilver, it might preserve, for a considerable space of time, its vegetable life, its smell and colour. If this be the case, it might prove a commodious method of transporting from different countries those dedicate plants which are unable to sustain the inclemency of the weather at sea, and which require particular care and attention. I have seen an instance of common flies preserved in a manner somewhat similar. They had been drown- ed in Madeira, wine, apparently about the time when it was bottled in Virginia, to be sent to London. At the opening of one of the bottles, at the house of a friend where I was, three drowned flies fell into the first glass which was filled. Having heard it remarked that drowned flies were capable of being revived by the rays of the sun, I proposed making the experi- ment upon these. They were therefore exposed td the sun, upon a sieve, which had been employed to strain them out of the wine. In less than three hours two of them began by degrees to recover life. They commenced by some convulsive motions in the thighs, and at length they raised themselves upon their legs, wiped their eyes with their fore feet, beat and brushed their wings with their hind feet, and soon after began to fly, finding themselves in Old England, without knowing how they came thither. The third continued lifeless until sunset, when, losing all hopes of him, he was thrown away. I wish it were possible, from this instance, to in- vent a method of embalming drowned persons, in such a manner that they might be recalled to life at any period, however distant ; for having a very ardent de- sire to see and observe the state of America an hun- dred years hence, I should prefer to an ordinary death, the being immersed in a cask of Madeira wine, with a few friends, until that time, then to be recalled to life by the solar warmth of my dear country. But since, 200 ESSAtS. in all probability, we live in an age too early, and too near the infancy of science, to see such an art brought in our time to its perfection, I must, for the present, content myself with the treat, which you are so kind as to promise me, of the resurrection of a fowl or a turkey- cock. Precautions to be used by those who are about to under* take a Sea Voyage, WHEN you intend to take a long voyage, nothing is better than to keep it a secret till the moment of your departure. Without this, you will be continually interrupted and tormented by visits from friends and acquaintances, who not only make you lose your valua- ble time, but make you forget a thousand things which you wish to remember ; so that when you are embark- ed, and fairly at sea, you recollect, with much uneasi- ness, affairs which you have not terminated, accounts which you have not settled, and a number of things which you proposed to carry with you, and which you find the want of every moment. Would it not be at- tended with the best consequences, to reform such a custom ; and suffer a traveller, without deranging him, to make his preparations in quietness, to set a,part a few days, when these are finished, to take leave of his friends, and to receive their good wishes for his happy return ? It is not always in one's power to choose a captain ; though great part of the pleasure and happiness of the •passage depends upon this choice, and though one must •for a time be confined to his company, and be in some measure under his command. If he is a social sensible man, obliging, and of a good disposition, you will be 80 much the happier. One sometimes meets with j>eo- ESSAYS* 201 pie of this description, but they are not common ; how- ever, if yours be not of this number, if he be a good seaman, attentive, careful, and active in the management of his vessel, you may dispense with the rest, for these are the most essential qualities. Whatever right you may have, by your agreement with him, to the provisions he has taken on board for the use of the passengers, it is always proper to have some private store, which you may make use of occa- sionally. You ought, therefore, to provide good water, that of the ship being often bad j but you must put it into bottles, without which, you cannot expect to pre- serve it sweet. You ought also to carry with you good tea, ground coffee, chocolate, wine of the sort you like best, cyder, dried raisins, almonds, sugar, ca- pillaire, citrons, rum, eggs dipped in oil, portable soup, bread twice baked. With regard to poultry, it is almost useless to carry any with you, unless you resolve to un- tlertake the office of feeding and fattening them yourself. With the little care which is taken of them on board ship, they are almost all sickly, and their flesh, is as tough as leather. All sailors entertain an opinion, which has undoubt- edly originated formerly from a want of water, and when it has been found necessary to be sparing of it, that poultry never know when they have drank enough ; and that when water is given them at discretion, they generally kill themselves by drinking beyond measure. In consequence of this opinion, they give them water only once in two days, and even then in small quan- tities: but as they pour this water into troughs in- clining on one side, which occasions it to run to the lower part, it thence happens that they are obliged to mount one upon the back of another in order to reach it ; and there are some which cannot even dip their beaks in it. Thus continually tantalized and torment- ed by thirst, they are unable to digest their food, which is very dry, and they soon fall sick and die- Some of them are found thus every morning, and are thrown into the sea j whilst those which are killed for the table 203 ESSAYS are scarcely fit to be eaten. To remedy this inconveni- ence, it will be necessary to divide their troughs into small compartments, in Sruch a manner that each of them may be capable of containing water ; but this is seldom or never done. On this account, sheep and hogs are to be considered as the best fresh provision that t^ne can have at sea ; mutton there being in general very good, and pork excellent. It may happen that some of the provisions and stores which I have recommended may become almost use- less, by the care which the captain has taken to lay in a proper stock ; but in such a case you may dispose of it to relieve the poor passengers, who, paying less for their passage, are stowed among the common sailors, and have no right to the captain's provisions, except such part of them as is used for feeding the crew.— — These passengers are sometimes sick, melancholy, and dejected ; and there are often women and children among them, neither of whom haive any opportunity of procuring those things which I have mentioned, and of whicbt perhaps, they have the greatest need. By distributing among them a part of your superfluity, you may be of the greatest assistance to them. You may restore their health, save their lives, and in short render them happy ; which always affords the liveliest sensation to a feeling mind. The most disagreeable thing at sea is the cookery j for there is not, properly speaking, any professed cook on board. The worst sailor is generally chosen for that purpose, who for the most part is equally dirty. Hence comes the proverb used among the English sai- lors, that God sends meat, and the Devil sends cooks. Those, however, who have a better opinion of Pro- vidence, will think otherwise. Knowing that sea air, and the exercise or motion which they receive from the rolling of the ship, have a wonderful effect in whetting the appetite, they will say that Providence has given sailors bad cooks to prevent them from eating too much; or that knowing they would have bad cooks, he has given them a good appetite to prevent them ESSAYS. 203 from dying with hunger. However, if you have no confidence in these succours of Providence, you may yourself, with a lamp and boiler, by the help of a little spirits of wine, prepare some food, such as soup, hash, &c. A small oven, made of tin-plate, is not a bad piece of furniture ; your servant may roast in it a piece of mutton or pork. If you are ever tempted to eat salt beef, which is often very good, you will find that cyder is the best liquor to quench the thirst generally caused by salt meat or salt fish. Sea-biscuit, which is too hard for the teeth of some people, may be softened by steep- ing it ; but bread double baked is the best, for being made of good loaf-bread cut into slices, and baked a second time, it readily imbibes water, becomes soft, and is easily digested j it consequently forms excellent nourishment, much superior to that of biscuit, which has not been fermented. I must here observe, that this double-baked bread was originally the real buiscuit prepared to keep at sea ; for the word biscuit^ in French, signifies twice baked.* Pease often boil badly, and do not become soft ; in such a case, by putting a two-pound shot into the ket- tle, the rolling of the vessel, by means of this bullet, will convert the pease into a kind of porridge, like mustard. Having often seen soup, when put upon the table at sea in broad flat dishes, thrown out on every side by the rolling of the vessel, I have wished that our tin- men would make our soup-basons with divisions or com- partments, forming small plates, proper for contain- ing soup for one person only. By this disposition, the soup, in an extraordinary roll, would not be thrown out of the plate, and would not fall into the breasts of those who are at table and scald them. Having entertained you with these things of little importance, permit me row to convlude with some general reflections upon na- vigation. * It is derived from bis again, and cuit baked. 204 ESSAY3. When navigation is employed only for transporting necessary provisions from one country, where they abound, to another were they are wanting ; when by this it prevents famines, which were so frequent and so fatal before it was invented and became so sommon ; we cannot help considering it as one of those arts which contribute most to the happiness of mankind. But when it is employed to transport things of no utility, or articles merely of luxury, it is then uncertain whether the advantages resulting from it are sufficient to coun* tcrbalance the misfortunes it occasions, by exposing the lives of so many individuals upon the vast ocean. And when it is used to plunder vessels and transport slaves^ it is evidently only the dreadful means of increasing those calamities which afflict human nature. One is astonished to think on the number of vessels and men who are daily exposed in going to bring tea from china, Coffee from Arabia, and sugar and tobacco from America ; all which commodities our ancestors lived very well without. The sugar-trade employs nearly a thousand vessels; and that of tobacco almost the same number. With regard to the utility of tobac- co, little can be said ; anci, with regard to sugar, how much more meritorious would it be to sacrifice the momentary pleasure which we receive from drinking it once or twice a-day in our tea, than to encourage the numberless cruelties that are continually exercised in order to procure it for us ? A celebrated French moralist said, that when he considered the wars which ],we foment in Africa to get negroes, the great number^who of course perish in these wars ; the multitude of those w^retches who die in their passage, by disease, bad air, and bad provisions ; and lastly, how many perish by the cruel treatment they meet with in a state of slavery ; when he saw a bit of sugar, he could not help imagining it to be covered with spots of human blood. But, had he added to these considerations the wars which we carry on one against another, to take and retake the islands that ESSAYS. 20S produce this commodity, he would not have seen the su^ar simply s/iotted with blood, he would have beheld it entirely tinged with it. These wars make the maritime powers of Europe, and the inhabitants of Paris and London, pay much dearer for their sugar than those of Vienna, though they are almost three hundred leagues distant from the sea. A pound of su^^ar, indeed, costs the former not only the price which they give for it, but also what they pay in taxes, necessary to support those fleets and armies which serve to d^;fend und protect the countries that produce it. ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY. From a Letter to Benjamin raugharif Eaq* nvrlttcn in ir84. IT is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of this world are managed. Naturally one would imagine that the interest of a few individuals should give way to general interest ; but individuals manage iheir af- fairs with so much more application, industry, and address, than the public do theirs, that general interest most commonly gives way to particular. We assemble parliaments and councils, to have the benefit of their collected wisdom ; but we necessarily have, at the same time, the inconvenience of their collected pas- * Present member of Parliament for the borough of Calne, in Wiltshire, between whom and our author tiiere subsisted a very close friendship. S 208 ESSAYS. by what is seen aWione the inhabitants of the seJ^-ports, is judging from an improper Sctmple. The people of the trading towns niyy be rich and hixurious, while the country possesses all the virtues that tend to pro- mote hapj)iness and public prosperity. Those tov/ns are not much regarded by the country ; they are hard- ly considered as an esseniial part of the states ; and the experience of the h^A war has shown that their being in the possession of ihe enemy did not necessarily draw on the subjection ot the country, which bravely con- tinued to maintain its freedom and independence not- withstanding. It has been computed by some political arithmetician, that if every man and woman would work for four hours each day on something useful, that labour would produce sufficient to procure all the necessaries and comforts of life -: want and misery would be banished cut of the world; and the rest of the twenty-four hours might be leisure and pleasure. What occasions then so much want and misery ? It is the employ ment of men and women in works that produce neither the necessaries or conveniences of life, who, with those who do nothing, consume necessaries raised by the laborious. To explain this : The first elements of wealth are obtained by labour, from the earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn. With this, if 1 feed a family that does nothing, my corn will be consumed, and at the end of the year I shall be no richer than 1 was at the beginning. But if while I feed them, I employ them, some in spinning,, others in making bricks, he for buik!ing, the value of my corn will be arrested and remain with me, and at the end of the year we may be all better clothed and better lodged. Aiid if, instead of eniploying a man I feed in making bricks, I employ him in fiddling for me, the corn he eats is gone, and no part of his manufcic- ture remains to augment the wealth and convenience of the family ; I shall therefore be the poorer for this fiddling man, unless the rest of my family work ESSAYS. ^Q^ more, or eat less, to make up the deficiency he occa- sions. Look round the world, and see the millions em- ployed in doing nothing, or in something that amounts to nothing, when the necessaries and conveniences of life are in question. What is the bulk of commerce, for which we light and destroy each other, but the toil of millions for superfluities, to the great hazard and loss of many lives, by the constant dangers of the sea ? How much labour is spent in building and fitting great sliips, to go to China and Arabia for tea and cof- fee, to the West-Indies for sugar, to America for to- bacco ? These things cannot be called the necessaries of life, for our ancestors lived very comfortably with- out them. A question may be asked ; Could all these people now employed in raising, making, or carrying super- fluities, be subsisted by raising necessaries? I think they might. The world is large, and a great part of it still uncultivated. Many hundred millions of acres in Asia, Africa, and America, are still in a forest; and a great deal even in Europe. On a hundred acres of this forest, a man might become a substantial farmer ; and a hundred thousand men employed in clearing each his hundred acres, would hardly brighten a spot big enough to be visible from the moon, unless with Herschel*s telescope ; so vast are the regions still in wood. It is however some comfort to reflect, that, upon the whole, the quantity of industry and prudence a- mong mankind exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. Hence the increase of good buildings, farms cultivated, and populous cities filled with wealthy all over Europe, which a few ages since were only tb be found on the coast of the Mediterranean ; and this notwithstanding the mad wars continually raging, by which are often destroyed in one year the works of ma- ny years peace. So that we may hope, the luxury o'f a few mercliants on the coast will not be the ruin of America. S2 310 ESSAYS. One reflection more and I will end this long ram- bling letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies require some expense. The feet demand shoes ; the legs stockings ; the rest of the body clothing : and the belly a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though exceedingly useful, ask, when reasonable, only the cheap assistance of spectacles, which could not much impair our finan- ces. . But the eyes of other people are the eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should want neither fine clothes, fine houses, nor fine furniture. ON THE SLAVE TRADE. READING in the newspapers the speech of Ml*. Jackson in Congress, against meddling with the af- fair of slavery, or attempting to mend the condition of slaves, it put me in mind of a similar speech, made about an hundred years since, by Sidi Mehemet Ibrahim, a member of the Divan of Algiers, which may be seen in Martin's account of his consulship, 1687. It was against granting the Petition of the sect called Erika pr Furisls, who prayed for the abolition of piracy and slavery, as being unjust. — Mr. Jackson does not quote it ; perhaps he has not seen it. If, therefore, some of its reasonings are to be found in his eloquent speech, it may only shew that men's interests operate, and are operated on, with surprising similarity, in all countries and climates, whenever they are under similar circum- stances, The African speech, as translated, is as fol- lows ; ESSAYS. 2it "^ Alia Bismillah, 8cc. God is great, and Mahomet is his prophet. " Have these Erika considered the consequences of granting their petition ? " If we cease our cruises against the Christians, how shall we be furnished with the commodities their countries produce, and which are so necessary for use ? If we forbear to make slaves of their people, who, in this hot climate, are to cultivate our lands ? Who are to perform the common labours of our city, and of our families ? Must we not then be our own slaves ? And is there not more compassion and more favour due to us Mussulmen, than to those Christian dogs ? — We have now above fifty thousand slaves in and near Algiers. This number, if not kept up by fresh supplies, will soon diminish, and be gradually annihilated. If, then, we cease taking and plundering the infidel ships, and making slaves of the seamen and passengers, our lands will become of no value, for want of cultivation ; the rents of houses in the city will sink one half; and the revenues of government, arising from the share of prizes, must be totally destroyed ? — and for what ? To gratify the whim of a whimsical sect, who would have us not only forbear making more slaves, but even manumit those we have. But who is to indemnify their masters for the loss ? Will the state do it ? Is our treasury sufficient ? Will the Erika doit? Can they do it ? Or would they, to do what they think justice to the slaves, do a greater injustice to the owners ? And if we set our slaves free, what is to be done with them ? Few of them will return to their native countries ; they know too well the greater hardships they must there be subject to. They will not embrace our holy religion ; they will not adopt our manners : our people will not pollute themselves by intermarrying with them. Must we maintain them as beggars in our streets ; or suffer our properties to be the prey of their pillage ? For men accustomed to slavery, will not work for a livelihood, when not com- pelled — And what is there so pitiable in their present condition ? Were they not slaves in their own coun- 21^ ESSAYS. tries ? Are not Spain, Portugal, France, and the Italian states governed by despots, who hold all their subjects in slavery, without exception ? Even England treats her sailors as slaves, for they are, whenever the government pleases, seized, and confined in ships of war, condemned not only to work, but to fight for small wages, or a mere subsistence, not better than our slaves are allowed by us. Is their condition then made worse by their falling into our hands? No: they have only exchanged one slavery for another ; and I may say a better ; for here they are brouj2;ht into a land where the sun of Islamism gives forth its light and shines in full splendor, and they have an opportu- nity of making themselves acquainted with the true doctrine, and thereby saving their immortal souls — Those who remain at home have not that happiness. Sending the slaves home, then, would be sending them out of light into darkness. *' I repeat the question, what is to be done with them ? I have heard it suggested, that they may be planted in the wilderness, where there is plenty of land for them to subsist on, and where they may flour- ish as a free state. — But they are, I doubt, too little disposed to labour without compulsion, as well as too ignorant to establish good government : and the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy, or again enslave them. While serving us, we take care to provide^ them with every thing; and they are treated with hu- manity. The labourers of their own countries, are, as I am informed, worse fed, lodged, and clothed — The condition of most of them is therefore already mended, and requires no farther improvement. Here their lives are in safety. They are not liable to be im- pressed for soldiers, and forced to cut one another's Christian throats, as in the wars of their own countries. If some of the religious mad bigots who now teaze us with their silly petitions, have, in a fit of blind zeal, freed their slaves, it was not generosity, it was not humanity that moved them to the action ; it was from the conscious burthen of a load of sins, and hope, from ESSAYS. SIS the supposed merits of so good a work, to be excused from damnation. — How grossly are they mistaken in imagining slavery to be disavowed by the Alcoran ? Are not the two precepts, to quote no more, " Mas- ters, treat your slaves with kindness— Slaves, serve your masters with cheerfulness and fid{;lity,*' clear proofs to the contrary ? Nor can the plundering of infidels be in that sacred book forbiddeii : since it is well known from it, that God has given the world, and all that it contains, to his faithful Mufsuhrjen, who are to enjoy it, of right, as fast as they can conquer it. Let us then hear no more of this detestable propo- sition, the manumission of Christian slaves, the adop- tion of which would, by depreciating our lands and houses, and thereby depriving so many good citizens ©f their properties, create universal discontent, and provoke insurrections, to the endangering of govern- ment, and producing general confusion, I have, there- fore, no doubt that this wise council will prefer the comfort and happiness of a whole nation of true be- lievers, to the whim of a few Erika, and dismiss their petition. The result was, as Martin tells us, that the Divan came to this resolution : " That the doctrine, that the " plundering and enslaving the Christians is unjust, " is at best problematical ; but that it is the interest of " this state to continue the practice, is clear ; there- " fore, let the petition be rejected.*' — And it was re- jected accordingly. And since like motives are apt to produce, in the minds of men, like opinions and resolutions, may we not venture to predict, from this account, that the pe- titions to the parliament of England for abolishing the slave-trade, to say nothing of other legislatures, and the debates upon them, will have a similar conclusion. HISTORICUS. March 23, 1790* 214 ESSAYS. OBSERVATIONS ON WAR. By the original law of nations, war and extirpa- tion were the punishment of injury. Humaiiizing by degrees, it adnaitted slavery instead of death : a farther step was the exchange of prisoners instead of slavery ; another, to respect more the property of private per- sons under conquest, and be content with acquired do- minion. Why should not this law of nations go on improving ? Ages have intervened between its seve- ral steps : but as knowledge of late increases rapidly, why should not those steps be quickened ? Why should it not be agreed to, as the future law of nations, that in any war hereafter the following description of men should be undisturbed, have the protection of both sides, and be permitted to follow their employments in security ? viz. 1. Cultivators of the earth, because they labour for the subsistence of mankind. 2. Fishermen, for the same reason. 3. Merchants and traders in unarmed ships, who ac- commodate different nations by communicating and ex- changing the necessaries and conveniences of life. 4. Artists and mechanics, inhabiting and working in open towns. It is hardly necessary to add, that the hospitals of enemies should be unmolested — they ought to be as- sisted. It is for the interest of humanity in general, that the occasions of war, and the inducements to it, should be diminished. If rapine be abolished, one of the encouragements to war is taken away ; and peace therefore more likely to continue and be lasting. The practice of robbing merchants on the high seas —a remnant of the ancient piracy — though it may be ESSAYS. 215 accidentally beneficial to particular persons, is far from being profitable to all engaged in it, or to the nation that authorises it. In the beginning of a war some rich ships are surprised and taken. This encourages the first adventurers, to fit out more armed vessels- and many others to do the same. But the enemy at the same time become more careful, arm their merchant ships better, and render them not so easy to be taken ; they go also more under the protection of convoys. — Thus, while the privateers to take them are multiplied, the vessels subject to be taken, and the chances of profit are diminished ; so that many cruises are made, wherein the expences overgo the gains ; and, as is the case in other lotteries, though particulars have got prizes, the mass of adventurers are losers, the whole expence of fitting out all the privateers during a war being much greater than the whole amount of goods taken. Then there is the national loss of all the labour of so many men during the time they have been employ- ed in robbing ; who besides spend what they get in riot, drunkenness, and debauchery ; lose their habits of industry ; are rarely fil for any sober business after a peace, and serve only lo increase the number of high- waymen and house-breakers. Even the undertakers -who have been fortunate, are, by sudden wealth, led into expensive living, the habit of which continues when the means of supporting it cease, and finally ruins them : a just punisiiment for having wantonly and un- feelingly ruined many honest, innocent traders and their families, whose substa!ice was employed in serving the common interest of mankind. 216 ESSAYS. ON THE IMPRESS OF SEAMEN. Notes copied from Dr. Franklin's writing in pencil in the margin of Judge Foster's celebrated argument in favour of the Impressing of Sramen (published in the folio edition of his works.) JUDGE Foster, p. 158. «< Every Man,"— The con- clusion here from the ivhole to a fiart^ does not seem to be t^ood logic. If the alphabet should say, Let us all fight for the defence of the whole ; that is equal, and may therefore be just. But if they should say, Let A, B, C, and D, go out and fight for us, while we stay at borne and sleep in whole skins; that is not equal, and therefore cannot be just. lb. " Employ." — If you please. The word signifies engaging a man to work for me, by offering him such wages as are sufficient to induce him to prefer my ser- vice. This is very different from compelling him to work on such terms as I think proper. lb. « This service and employment, Sec." — ^^These are false facts. His employment and service are not the same — Under the merchant he goes in an unarmed vessel, not obliged to fight, but to transport merchan- dise. In the king's service he is obliged to fight, and to hazard all the dangers of battle. Sickness on board of king's ships is also more common and more mortal. The merchant's service too he can quit at the end of ESSAYS. 217 the voyrge ; not the king's. Also, the merchant's wa- ges are much higher. lb. '* I am very sensible, 8<:c." — Here are two things put in comparison that are not comparable : viz. injury to seamen, and inconvenience to trade. Inconvenience to the v,'hole trade of a nation will not justify injustice to a single seaman. If the trade would suffer without his service, it is able and ought to be willing to offer him such wages as may induce him to afford his ser- vice voluntarily. Page 159. " Private mischief must be borne with *' paiience, for preventing a national calamity."—— Where is this maxim in law and good policy to be found? And how can that be a maxim which is not consistent with common sense ? If the maxim had been, that private mischief, which, prevent a national cala- mity, ought to be generously compensated by the n^ation, one might understand it; but that such pri- vate mischiefs are only to be borne with patience, is absurd ! lb. « The expedient, Sec. And, Sec," (Paragraphs 2 and 3) — Twenty ineffectual or inconvenient schemes will not justify one that is unjust. lb. " Upon the foot of, &c " — Your reasoning, in- deed, like a lie, stands but upon oxi^ foot ; truth upon two. Page 160. " Full wages." — Probably the same they had in the merchant's service. Page 174. " I hardly admit, &c." (Paragraph 5) — When this author speaks of impressing, page 158, he diminishes the horror of the practice as much as possible, by presenting to the mind one sailor only suf- fering hardshifi (as he tenderly calls it) in some /?ar- ticular cases only : and he places against this private mischief the inconvenience to the trade of the king- dom — But if, as he supposes is often the case, the sail- or who is pressed, and obliged to serve for the defence of trade, at the rate of twenty five shillings a nionth, could get three pounds fifteen shillings in the mer- chant's service, you take from him fifty shillings a T 218 ESSAYS. month : and if you have 100,000 in yonr service, you rob this honest industrious part of society, and their poor fanciiiies of 250,0001. per month, or three millions a year, and at the same time oblige them to hazard their lives in fighting for the defence of your trade ; to the defence of which all ought indeed to contri- bute (and sailors among the rest) in proportion to their profits by it ; but this three millions is more than their share, if they did not pay with their persons ; but when you force that, methinks you should excuse the other. But it may be said, to give the king's seamen mer- chant's wages would cost the nation too much, and call for more taxes. The question then will amount to this : whether it be just in a community, that the richer part should compel the poorer to fight in de- fence of them and their properties, for such wages as they think fit to allow, and punish them if they re- fuse ? Our author tells us that it is " legal." 1 have not law enough to dispute his authorities, but I can- not persuade myself that it is equitable. I will, how- ever, own for the present, that it may be lawful when necessary ; but then I contend that it m.ay be used so as to produce the same good effects — the fiublic security without doing so much intolerable injustice as attends the impressing common seamen — ^In order to be bet- ter understood, I v.'ouId premise two things ; First, that voluntary seamen may be had for the service, if they were sufficiently paid. The proof is, th^t to serve in the same ship, and incur the same dangers, you have no occasion to impress captains, lieutenants," second lieu- tenants, miidshipmen, pursers, nor many other officers. Why but that the profits of their places, or the emolu- ments expected, are sufficient inducements ? The busi- ness then is, to find money, by impressing, sufficient to make the sailors all volunteers, as well as their offi- cers ; and this without any fresh burthen upon trade. — - The second of my premises is, that twenty five shil- lings a month, with his share of salt beef, pork, and pease-pudding, being found sufficient for the subsis- ESSAYS. 219 tance of a hard-working seaman, it will certainly be so for a sedentary scholar or a gentleman. I would then propose to form a treasury, out of which encourage, ments to seamen should be paid. To fill this treasury, 1 would impress a number of civil officers, who at pre- sent have greatf salaries, oblige them to serve in their respective offices for twenty-five shillings a month, with their shares of mess provisions, and throw tiie rest of their salaries into the seamen's treasury. If such a press warrant were given me to execute, the first I would press should be a Recorder of Bristol, or a Mr. Justice Foster, because I might have need of his edify- ing example, to show how much impressing ought to be borne with ; for he would certainly find, that though to be reduced to twenty-five shillings a month might be a firivatc mischiefs yet that, agreeably to his maxim of law and good policy, it ought to be borne nvith patieiire^ for preventing a national calamity. Then I would press the rest of the judges ; and, opening the red book, I would press every civil officer of government from 501. a year salary, up to 50,0001. which would throw an im- mense sum into our treasury : and these gentlemen could not complain, since they would receive twenty- five shillings a month, and their rations; and this with- out being obliged to fight. Lastly, I think I would im- press***. 220 ESSAYS. ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS, AND- t THE PRACTIOE OF PRiVATEERINa Letter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq. March 14, 1785. MY DEAR FRIEND, AMONG the pamphlets yovv lately sent me, was one, entiticcl, Thoughts on Rxeciu'we Justice. In re- turn for that, I send you one on the same subject, Ob' servations concernant I' Execution de C Article II. ds la Declaration sur le Vol. 'Iliey are both addressed to the judges, and writen, as you will see, in a very differ- ent spirit. The English author is tor hanging «// thieves. The Frenchman is for proportioning punishments to offences. If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that the law of Moses was the law of God, the dictates of divine wisdom, infinitely superior to human ; on what principles do we ordain death as the punishjiient of an offence, which, according to that law, was only to be punished by a restitution of four-fold ? To put a man to death for an offence which docs not deserve death, is it not a murder? And, as the French writer says, Doit'On fiueir un delit contre la socieie par uri crime contre la nature. Superfluous property is the creature of society. Simple and mild laws were sufficient to guard the pro- ESSAYS. ' 221 perty that was merely necessary. The savage's bow, his hatchet, and his coit of skins, were sufficiently se- cured, without law, by the fear of personal resentment and retaliation. When, by virtue of the first laws, part of the society accumulated wealth, and grew pow- erful, they enacted others more severe, and would pro- tect their property at the expence of humanity. This was abusing their power and commencing a tyranny. If a savage, before he entered into society, had been told — " Your neighbour, by this means, may become « owner of an hundred deer ; but if your brother, or " your son, or yourself, having no deer of your own, *' and being hungry, should kill one, an infamous death " must be the consequence :" — he would probably have preferred his liberty, and his common right of killing any deer, to all the advantages of society that might be proposed to him. That it is better a hundred guilty persons should es- cape, than that one innocent person should suffer, is a maxim that has been long and generally approved ; never, that I know of controverted. Even the san- guinary author of the Thoughts^ agrees to it, adding well, " that the very thought of injured innocence, *' and much more that of suffering innocence, must " awaken all our tenderest and most compassionate ii feelings, and at the same time raise our highest in- " dignation against the instruments of it. But, (he adds there is no danger of either^ from a strict ad- herence to the laws/' Really 1 — Is it then impossible to make an unjust law? and if the law itself be un- just, may it not be the very " insrument" which ought 10 " raise the author's and every body's highest indig- nation ? I see in the last newspapers from London, that a woman is capitally convicted at the Old Bailey, for privately stealing out of a shop some gauze, value fourteen shillings and three-pence : Is there any pro- portion between the injury done by a theft, value fourteen shillings and three pence, and the punishment of a human creature, by death, on a gibbet ? Might not that woman, by her labour, have made the repara^ T 2 222 ESSAYS. ration ordained by God, in paying fourfold ? Is not all punishment, inflicted beyond the merit of the of- fence, so much punishment of innocence ? In this light, how vast is the annual quantity, of not only injured but suffering innocence, in al«iost all the civilized states of Europe I But it seems to have been thought that this kind of innocence may be punished by way of preventing crimes. I have read, indeed, of a cruel Turk in Bar- bary, who, whenever he bought a new Christian slave, ordered him immediately to be hung up by the legs, and to receive a hundred blows of a cudgel on the soles of his feet, that the severe sense of the punishment, and fear of incurring it thereafter, might prevent the faults that should merit it. Our author himself would hardly approve entirely of this Turk's conduct in the government of slaves ; and yet he appears to recom- mend something like it for the government of English subjects, when he applauds the reply of Judge Burnet to the convict horse-stealer ; who being asked what he had to say why judgment of death should not pass against him, and answering, that it was hard to hang a man for only stealing a horse, was told by the judge, •' Man, thou art not to be hanged only for stealing a horse, but that horses may not be stolen." The man's answer, if candidly examined, will, I imagine, appear reasonable, as being founded on the eternal principle of justice and equity, that punishments should be pro- portioned to offences, and the judge's reply brutal and unreasonable, though the writer " wishes all judges to carry it with them whenever they go to the circuit, and to bear it in their minds, as containing a wise rea- son for all the penal statutes which they are called upon to put in execution. It at once illustrates, says he, the true grounds and reasons of ail capital punish- ments whatsoever, namely, that every man's property, as well as his life, may be held sacred and inviolate." Is there then no difference in value between property and life ; If I think it right that the crime of murder should be punished with death; not only as an equal ESSAYS. 225 punishment of the crime, but to prevent other mur- ders, does it follow that I must approve of the same punishment for a little invasion on my property by theft ? If I am not myself so barbarous so bloody- minded, and revengeful, as to kill a fellow-creature for stealing from me fourteen shillings and three- pence, how can I approve of a law that does it ? Montesquieu, \vho was himself a judge, endeavours to impress other maxims. He must have known what humane judges feel on such occasions, and what the effects of those feelings ; and so far from thinking that severe and excessive punishments prevent crimes, he asserts, as quoted by our French writer, that " L'atrocite des loix en empeche l*execution. " Lorsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent oblig^ de ** lui pref^rer I'lmpunite. ** La cause destous.les relachemens vient de I'impunit^ des " crimes, et non de la moderation des peines." It is said by those who know Europe generally, that there are more thefts committed and punished annually in England than in all the other nations put together. If this be so, there must be a cause or causes for such depravity in our common people. May not one be the deficiency of justice and morality in our national gov- ernment, manifested in our oppressive conduct to sub- jects, and unjust wars on our neighbours? View the long-persisted in, unjust, monopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length acknowledged I View the plunder- ing government exercised by our merchants in the In- dies ; the confiscating war made upon the American colonies ; and, to say nothing of those upon France and Spain, view the late war upon Holland, which was seen by impartial Europe in no other light than that of a war in rapine and pillage ; the hopes of an immense and easy prey being its only apparent, and probably its true and real motive and encouragement Justice is as strictly due between neighbour nations as betvveen 324 ESSAYS. neighbour citizens. A highwayman is as much a rob- ber when he plunders in a gang^ as when single ; and a nation that makes an unjust war is only a great gang. After employing your people in robbing the Dutch, is it strange that, being out of that employ by peace, they still continue robbing, and rob one ano- ther ? Piraterie^ as the French call it, or privateer- ing, is the universal bent of the English nation, at home and abroad, wherever settled No less than seven hundred privateers were, it is said, commission- ed in the last war I These were fitted out by mer- chants, to prey upon other merchants, who had never done them any injury. Is there probabably any oiie of those privateering merchants of London, who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that would not as readily plunder another London mer- chant of the next street, if he could do it with the same impunity ! The avidity, the alicni a/ifietens is the same :. it is the fear alone of the gallows that makes the dif- ference. How then can a nation, which, amongst the honestest of its people, has so many thieves by inclina- tion, and whose government encouraged and commis- sioned no less than seven hundred gangs of robbers ; how can such a nation have the face to condemn the crime in individuals, and hang up twenty of them in a morning ! It naturally puts one in mind of a Newgate anecdote. One of the prisoners complained, that in the night somebody had taken the buckles out of his shoes. " What th^ devil !" says another, '* have we then thieves amongst us ? It must not be suffered, Let us search out the rogue, and pump him to death.'* There is, however, one late instance of an English merchant who will not profit by such ill-gotten gain. He was, it seems, part owner of a ship, which the other owners thought fit to employ as a letter of marque, and which took a number of French prizes. The booty being shared, he has now an agent here en- quiring, by an advertisement in the Gazette, for those who suffered the loss, in order to make them, as far ESSAYS. 223 as in him lies, restitution. This conscientious man is a Quaker. The Scotch Presbyterians were formerly as tender ; for there is still extant an ordinance of the town- council of Edinburgh, made soon after the Reformation, *' forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under puin of losini^ the freedom of the burgh for ever, with other punishment at the will of the magistrate ; the practice of making prizes being contrary to good conscience, and the rule of treating Christian brethren as we would wish to be treated ; and such goods are not to be sold by godly men within this burgh''* — The race of these godly men in Scotland is probably extinct, or their principles abandoned, since, as far as that nation had a hand in promoting the war against the colonies, prizes and confiscations are believed to have been a considerable motive. It has been for some time a generally received opin- ion, that a military man is not to enquire whether a war be just or unjust ; he is to execute his orders.— All princes who are disposed to become tyrants, must probably approve of this opinion, and be willing to establish it ; but is it not a dangerous one ? since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands his army to at- tack and destroy, not only an unoffending neighbour nation, but even his own subjects, the army is bound to obey. A negro slave, in our colonies, being com- manded by his master to rob or murder a neighbour, or do any other immoral act, may refuse ; and the ma- gistrate will protect him in his refusal. The slavery then of a soldier is worse than that of a negro; A con- scientious officer, if not restrained by the apprehension of its being imputed to another cause, may indeed re- sign, rather than be employed in an unjust war, but the private men are slaves for life ; and they are per- haps incapable of judging for themselves. We can only lament their fate, and still more that of a sailor, who is often dragged by force from his honest occupa- tion, and compelled to imbrue his hands in perhaps in- nocent blood. But methinks it well behoves mer- chants (men more enlightened by their education, and 226 ESSAYS. perfectly free from any such force or obligation) to con- sider well of the justice of a war, before they volun- tarily engage a gang of ruffians to attack their fellow- merchants of a neighbouring nation, to plunder them of their property, and perhaps ruin them and their fami- lies, if they yield it*, or to wound, maim, and murder them, if they attempt to defend it. Yet these things are done by Christian merchants, whether a war be just or unjust; and it can hardly be just on both sides. They are done by English and American merchants, who, nevertheless, complain of private theft, and hang by dozens the thieves they have taught by their own example. It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were put to this enormity. The United States of America, though better situated than any European nation to make profit by privateering, (most of the trade of Europe with the West-Indies passing before their doors) are, as far as in them lies, endeavouring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all their treaties with other powers, an article, engaging solemuJy, that in case of future war, no privateer shall be commission- ed on either side ; and that unarmed merchant-ships, on both sides, shall pursue their voyages unmolested.* This will be a happy improvement of the law of nations. The humane and the just cannot but wish general success to the proposition. ^Vith unchangeable esteem and affection, 1 am, my dear friends, Ever yours. ireaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that monarch and the United States, containing the fbllowins^ humane, pbilan- tliropic article, in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one of the American plenipotentiaries, wiis principally concerned, viz. ART. XXIII. If war sliould arise between the two contracting parties, the merchants of either country, tlien residing in the other, shall be ui- ESSAYS. ^2t REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES OF NORTH AMERICA. SAVAGES we call them, because their manners dif- fer from ours, which we think the perfection of civility; they think the same of theirs. Perhaps, if we could examine the manners of diffe- rent nations with impartiality, we should find no people so rude as to be without any rules of politeness, nor any so polite as not to have some remains of rudeness. lowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and settle their aflairs, and may depart freely, carrying off their effects without molestation or hindrance : and all women and children, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, artizans, manufacturers, and fishermen, unarmed and inhabiting- unfortified towns, villag-es, or places, and in general all others whose occupations are for the common subsistence and benefit of mankind, shall be allowed to con- tinue their respective employments, and shall not be molested in their persons, nor shall their houses or goods be burned, or other- Wise destroyed, nor tlieir fields wasted, by the armed force of the enemy into whose power, by the events of war, they may happen to fall ; but if any thing is necessary to be taken from them for the use of such armed force, the same shall be paid for at a reasonable price. •— x\nd all mercliant and trading vessels employed in exchanging the products of different places, and thereby rendering the neces- saries, conveniences, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained, and more general, shall be allowed to pass free and un- molested; and neither of the contracting powers shall grant or issue any commission to any private armed vessels, empowering them to take or destroy such trading vessels, or interrupt such commerce. 228 ESSAYS. The Indian men, when yoiinj^, are hunters and war- riors ; when old, counsellors; for all their government is by the counsel or advice of sages ; there is no force, there are no prisons, no officers to compel obedience, or inflict punishment. Hence they generally study oratory ; the best speaker having the most influence. The Indian women till the ground, dress the food, nurse and bring up the children, and preserve and liand down to posterity the memory of public trans- actions. These employments of men and women are accounted natural and honourable. Having few arti- ficial wants, they have abundance of leisure for im- provement by conversation. Our laborious manner of life, compared with theirs, they esteem slavish and base ; and the learning on which we value ourselves, they regard as frivolous and useless. An instance of this occurred at the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylva- nia, anno 1744, between the government of Virginia and the Six nations. After the principal business was setted, the commissioners from Virginia acquainted the Indians by a speech, that there was at Williams- burg a college, with a fund, for educating Indian youth; and that if the chiefs of the Six Nations would send down half a dozen of their sons to that college, the go- vernment would take care that they should be well pro- vided for, and instructed in all the learning of the white people. It is one of the Indian rules of politeness not to answer a public proposition the same day that it is made; they think it would be treating it as a light matter; and they shew it respect by taking time to consider it, as of a matter important. They therefore deferred their answer till the day following ; when their speak- er began, by expressing their deep sense of the kind- ness of the Virginia government, in making them that offer ; *' for we know (says he) that you highly esteem the kind of learning taught in those colleges, and that the maintenance of our young men, while with you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, therefore, that you mean to do us good by your propo- sal, and we thank you heartily. But you who are ESSAYS. 229 wise must know, that different nations have different conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our ideas of this kind of education happen not to be the same with yours. We have had some experience of it : several of our young people were formerly brought up at the colleges of the northern provinces ; they were instructed in all your sciences ; but when they came back to us, they were bad run- ners : ignorant of every means of living in the woods ; unable to bear either cold or hunger ; knew neither how to build a cabin, take a deer, or kill an enemy; spoke our language imperfectly ; were therefore nei" ther fit for hunters, warriors, or counsellers ; they were totally good for nothing. We are however not the less obliged by your kind offer, though we decline ac- cepting it : and to show our grateful sense of it, if the gentlemen of Virginia will send us a dozen of their sons, we will take great care of their education, in- struct them in all we know, and make rjieii of them.'* Having frequent occasion to hold public councils, they have acquired great order nnd decency in con- ducting them. The old men sit in the foremost ranks, the warriors in the next, and the women and children in the hindmost. The business of the women is to take exact notice of what passes, imprint it in their memories, for they have no writing, and communicate it to their children. They are the records of the council, and they preserve tradition of the stipulations in treaties a hundred years back ; which, when we compare with our writings, we always find exact. He that would speak rises. The rest observe a profound silence. When he has finished, and sits down, thfey leave him five or six minutes to recollect, that, if he has omitted any thing he intended to say, or has any thing to add, he may rise again, arid deliver it. To interrupt another, even in commmon conversation, is reckoned highly indecent. How different this is from the conduct of a polite British House of Commons, where scarce a day passes, without some confusion, thar^fnakes the speaker hoarse in calling to order ; and U 230 ESSAYS. how different from the mode of conversation in many polite companies of Europe, where if you do not de- liver your sentence with great rapidity, you are cut off in the middle of it by the impatient loquacity of those you converse with, and never suffered to finish it! ^ The politeness of these savages in conversation, is indeed, carried to excess; since it does not permit them to contradict or deny the truth of what is as- serted in their presence. By this means they indeed avoid disputes ; but then it becomes difficult to know their minds, or what impression you make upon them. The missionaries who have attempted to convert them to Christianity, all complain of this as one of the great difficulties of their mission. The lndi.jns hear with patience the truths of the gospel explained to them, and give their usual tokens of i-.ssent and approbation : you would think they were convinced. No such mattert It is mere civility. A Swedish minister having assembled the chiefs of the Susquehannah Indians, made a sermon to them, acquainting them with the principle historical facts on which our religion is founded : such as the fall of our first parents by eatint^ an apple ; the coming of Christ to repair the mischief; his miracles and sufferings, Sec. — When he had finished, an iiidian orator stood up to thank him. *' W hat you have told us,'* says he, " is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat apples. It is bet- ter to make them all into cyder. We are much obliged by your kindness in coming so far to tell us those things which you have heard ftom your mothers. In return I will tell you some of those we have heard from ours. '' In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh of animals to subsist on ; and if their hunting was un- successful, they were starving. Two of our young hunters having killed a deer, made a fire in the woods to broil some parts of it. When they were about to satisfy their hunger, they beheld a beautiful young woman descend from the clouds, and seat hersel*^'^ on ESSAYS. 251 th:^t hill which you see yonder amon^ the Blue Moun- tains. They said to each other, it is a spirit that per- haps has smelt our broiling venison, and wishes to eat of it : let us offer some to her. They presented her with the tongue : she was pleased with the taste of it, and said, your kindness shall be rewarded. Come to this place after thirteen moons, and you shall find something that will he of great benefit in nourishing you and your children to the latest generations. They did so, and to their surprise found plants they had ne- ver seen before ; but which from that ancient time, haye been constantly cultivated among us, to our great advantage. Where her right hand had touched the ground, they found maize ; where her left hand had touched it, they found kidney-beans; and where her backside had sat on it, they found tobacco." The good missionary, disgusted with this idle tale, said. What I delivered to you, were sacred truths ; but what you tell me, is mere fable, fiction and falsehood." The Indian, offended, replied, <* My brother, it seems your friends have not done you justice in your educa- tion : they have not well instructed you in the rules of common civility. You saw that we, who understand and practice those rules, believed all your stories, why do you refuse to believe ours ?" When any of them come into our towns, our people are apt to croud round them, gaze upon them, and incommode them where they desire to be private ; this they esteem great rudeness, and the effect of the want of instruction in tlie rules of civility and good man- ners. *» We have," say they, " as much curiosity as " you, and when you come into our towns, we wish " for opportunities of looking at you ; but for this " purpose we hide ourselves behind bushes where you ^* are to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your " company." Their manner of entering one another's villages has likewise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling gtrangers to enter a village abruptly, without giving i^otice of their approach, Therefore, as soon as they 232 ESSAYS. arrive within hearing, they stop and hollow, remaining there till invited to enter. Two old men usually conne out to them, and lead them in. There is in every vil- lage a vacant dwelling, called the strangers' house. Here they are placed, while the old men go round from hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that strangers are arrived, v/ho are probably hungry and weary ; and every one sends them wluit he can spare of victuals, and skins to repose on. When the strangers are re- freshed, pipes and tobacco are brought ; and then, but not before, conversation begins, with enquiries who they are, whither bound, what news. Sec. and- it usu- ally ends with offers of service ; if the strangers have occasion of guides, or any necessaries for continuing their journey ; and nothing is exacted for the enter- tainment. The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a principal virtue, is practised by private persons; bf "which Conrad IVeiser^ our interpreter, gave me the following instance. He had been naturalized among the Six Nations, and spoke well the Mohawk language. In going through the Indian country, to carry a mes- sage from our governor to the council at Onondago^ he called at the habitation of Canassetego, an old acquain- tance, who embraced him, spread furs for him to sit on, placed before him some boiled beans and venison, and mixed some rum and water for his drink. When he was well refreshed, and had lit his pipe, Canassete- go began to converse with him : asked how he had fared the many years since they had seen each other, whence he then came, what occasioned the journey, &c. Conrad answered all his questions ; and when the discourse began to flag, the Indian, to continue it, said, *• Conrad, you have lived long among the white people, and know something of their customs : I have been sometimes at Albany, and have observed, that once in seven days they shut up their shops, and assemble all in the great house ; tell me what that is for ! What do they do there ?" " They meet there," says Conrad, *' to hear and learn good things.** " I do not doubt says ESSAYS.. ^oo th« Indian, " that they tell you so ; they have tol^l me the same ; but I doubt the truth of what they say, and I will tell you my reasons. I went lately to Albany, to sell my skins, and buy blankets, knives, powder, rum, &c. You know I used generally to deal with Hans Hanson ; but I was a Utile inclined this time to try some other merchants. However, I called first upon Hans, and asked him what he would give for beaver. He said that he could not give more than four shillings a poHud ; but, says he, I cannot talk on business now, this is the day when we meet together to learn good thingsy and I am going to the meeting. So I thought to myself, since I cannot do any business to-day, I may as well go to the meeting too, and I went with him. There stood up a man in black, and began to talk to the people very angrily, I did not understand what he said, but perceiving that he looked much at me and at Hanson, 1 imagined he was angry at seeing me there ; so I ^fent out, sat down near the house, struck fire, and lit my pipe, waiting till the meeting should break up. I thought too that the man had mentioned some- thing of beaver, and I suspected it might be the sub- ject of their meeting. So when they came out I accost- ed my merchant. *' Well, Hans,** says I, " I hope you «' have agreed to give more than four shillings a pound," " No,'* says he, " I cannot give so much, I cannot " give more than three shillings and six-pence.'* I then spoke to several other dealers, but they all sung the same song, three and six-pence, three and six- pence. This made it clear to me that my suspicion was right ; and that whatever they pretended of meeting to learn good things^ the purpose was to consult how to cheat Indians m the price of beaver. Consider but a little Conrad, and you must be of my opinion. If they met so often to learn good t/iings, they would certainly have learned some before this time. But they are still ignorant. You know our practice. ,If a white man, in ^travelling through our country, enters one of our cabins U 2 234 ESSAYS. we all treat him as I do you ; we dry him if he is wet ; we warm him if he is cold, and give him meat and drink, that he may allay his thirst and hunger ; and we spread soft furs for him to rest and sleep on : we de- mand nothing in return.* But if I go into a white man's house at Albany, and ask for victuals and drink, they say, get out, you Indian dog. You see they have not yet learned those little ^ood things that we need no meetings to be instructed in, because our mothers taught them to us when we were children : and there- fore it is impossible their meetings should be, as they say, for any such purpose, or have any such effect ; they are only to contrive the cheating of Indians in the price of beaver,** * It is remarkable, that in all ages and countries, hospital^ ity has been allowed as the virtue of those, whom the civil- ized were pleased to call Barbarians ; the Greeks celebrated the Scythians for it. The Saraoens possessed it eminently, and it is to this day the reigning virtue of the wild Arabs. St. Paul too, in the relation of his voyage and shipwreck on the island of Melita, say, '• The barbarous people shewed us " no little kindness ; for they kindled a fire, and received us *• every one, because of the present rain, and because of the " cold." T'his note is taken from a small collection of Frank- lin's papers, printed for Dilly, ESSAYS. 235 TO M. DUBOURG, CONCERNING THE DISSENTIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND AND AMERICA. London, October, 2, 1770. I SEE with pleasure that we think pretty much alike upon the subject of English America. We of the colonies have never insisted that we ought to be ex- empt from contributing to the common expences ne- cessary to support the prosperity of the empire. We only assert, that having parliaments of our own, and not having representatives in that of Great Britain, our parliaments are the only judges of what we can and what we ought to contribute in this case : and that the English parliament has no right to take our money without our consent. In fact, the British em- pire is not a single state ; it comprehends many; and though the parliament of Great Britain has arrogated to itself the power of taxing the colonies, it has no more right to do so, than it has to tax Hanover, We have the same king, but not the same legislatures. The dispute between the two countries has already cost England many millions sterling, which it has lost in its commerce, and America has in this respect been a proportionable gainer. This commerce consisted principally of superfluities ; objects of Luxury and fash- ion, which we can well do without ; and the resolution we have formed of importing no more till our grievan- ces are redressed, has enabled many of our infant man- ufactures to take root ; and it will not be easy to make 235 ESSAYS. our people abandon them in future, even should a con nection more cordial than ever succeed the preseD' troubles. — I have, indeed, no doubt that the parliamen; of England will finally abandon its present pretensions, and leave to us the peaceable enjoyment of our rights and privileges. B. FRANKLIN. A COMPARISON. OF THE CONDUCT OF THE ANCIENT JEWp, AND OF THE ANTIFEDERALISTS IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. A ZEALOUS advocate for the proposed Federal Constitution, in a certain public assembly, said, that " the repugnance of a great part of mankind to good " government was such, that he believed that if an « angel from heaven was to bring down a consdtu- " tion formed there for our use, it would nevertheless " meet with violent opposition.'* — He was reproved for the supposed extravagance of the sentiment ; and he did not justify it. — Piobably it might not have im- mediately occurred to him that the experiment had been tried, and that the event was recorded in the most faith- ful of all histories, the Holy Bible ; otherwise he might, as it seems to me, have supported his opinion by that unexceptionable authority. The Supreme Being had been pleased to nourish up a single family, by continueil acts of his attentive Pro- vidence, 'till it became a great people : and having rescued them from bondage by many miracles perform-- ESSAYS- 2S7 ed by his servant Moses, he personally delivered to that chosen servant, in presence of the whole nation, a con- stitution and code of laws for their observance ; accom- panied and sanctioned with promises of great rewards, and threats of severe punishments, as the consequence of their obedience, or disobedience. This constitution, though the Deity himself was to be at its head, (and it is therefore called by political writers a Theocracy) could not be carried into execution but by means of his ministers ; Aaron and his sons were there- fore commissioned to be, with Moses, the first establish- ed ministry of the new government. One would have thought, that the appointment of men who had distinguished themselves in procuring the liberty of the nation, and had hazarded their lives in openly opposing the will of a powerful monarch who would have retained that nation in slavery, might have been an appointment acceptable to a grateful people ; and that a constitution, framed for them by the Deity himself, might on that account have been secure of an universal welcome reception. Yet there were, in every one of the thirteen tribes, some discontented rest- less spirits, who were continually exciting them to re- ject the proposed new government, and this from vari- ous motives. Many still retained an affection for Egypt, the land of their nativity, and these, whenever they felt any in- convenience or hardship, through the natural and un- avoidable effect of their change of situation, exclaimed against their leaders as the authors of their trouble ; and were not only for returning into Egypt, but for stoning their deliverers.* Those inclined to idolatry were displeased that their golden calf was destroyed. Many of the chiefs thought the new constitution might be injurious to their particular interests, that the pro* fitable places would be engrossed by the families and Numbers chap. xvi. 238 ESSAYS. friends of Moses and Aaron^ and othets equally well- born excluded.* — In Josephus, and the Talmud, we learn some particulars, not so fully narrated in the scripture, We are there told, " that Korah was am- bitious of the priesthood ; and offended that it was conferred on Aaron : and this, as he said, by the au- thority of Moses only, nvithout the consent of the fieo- file. He accused Moses of having, by various artifices, fraudently obtained the government, and deprived the people of their liberties ; and of conspiring with Aaron to perpetuate the tyranny in their family. Thus, though Korah's real motive was the supplanting of Aaron, he persuaded the people that he meant only the public good : and they, moved by his insinuations, began to cry out — "Let us maintain the common li- berty of our respective tribes ; we have freed ourselves from the- slavery imposed upon us by the Egyptians, and shall we suffer ourselves to be made slaves by Moses ? If we must have a master, it were better to return to Pharoah, who at least fed us with bread and onions, than to serve this new tyrant, who by his ope- rations has brought us into danger of famine." Then they called in question the reality of his conference with God; and objected to the privacy of the meet- ings, and the preventing any of the people from being present at the colloquies, or even approaching the place, as grounds of great suspicion. They accused Moses also of peculation ; as embezzling part of the golden spoons and the silver chargers, that the princes had offered at the dedication of the altar,t and the of- ferings of the gold of the common people,^ as well as * Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 3. " And they gathered them- selves together against Moses and Aaron, and said unto them. Ye take too much upon you, seeing all the congregations are holy, every one of them — wherefore then lift ye up yourselves above the congregation ?'* t Numbers, ch. vii. % Exodus, ch. xxxv. ver. 22. ESSAYS. 23^ tnost of the poll-tax ;* and Aaron they accused of pocketing much of the gold of which he pretended to have made a molten calf. Besides peculation, they charged Moses with ambition ; to gratify which pas- sion, he had, they said, deceived the people, by promis- ing to bring them to a land flowing with milk and ho- ney ; instead of doing which, he had brought them from such a land ; and that he thought light of this mischief, provided he could make himself an absolute Jirince.-f That, to support the new dignity with splen- dour in his family, the partial poll-tax already levied and given to Aaron^ was to be followed by a general onell, which would probably be augmented from time to time, if he were suffered to go on promulgating new laws on pretence of new occasional revelations of the divine will, till their whole fortunes were devoured by that aristocracy/* IVloses denied the charge of peculation ; and his ac- cusers were destitute of proofs to support it ; though facts, if real, are in their nature capable of proof. " I have not," said he, (with holy confidence in the pre- sence of God) *' I have not taken from this people the value of an ass, nor done them any other injury." — . But his enemies had made the charge, and with some success among the populace ; for no kind of accusation is so readily made, or easily believed, by knaves, as the accusation of knavery. in fine, no less than two hundred and fifty of the principal men, *' famous in the congregation, men of ♦ Numbers, ch. iii. and Exodus, ch. xxx^ f Numbers, ch. xvi. ver. 13. " Is it a small thing that thou hast brought us up out of a land flowing with milk and honey, to kill us in the wilderness, except thou make thyself altogether a prince over us ?'* X Numbers, ch. iii. i Fxodus, ch. xxx. 240 ESSAYS. renown,"* heading and exciting the mob working them up to such a pitch of phrensy, that they called out, stone 'em, stone 'em, and thereby secure our liber- ties : and let us choose other captains that may lead us back into Egypt, in case we do not succeed in reducing the Canaanites. On the whole, it appears that the Israelites were a people jealous of their newly acquired liberty, which jealousy was in itself no fault ; but that when they suf- fered it to be worked upon by artful men, pretending public good, with nothing really in view but private interest, they were led to oppose the establishment of the new constitution, whereby they brought upon them- selves much inconvenience and misfortune. It farther appears from the same inestimable history, that when, after many ages, the constitution had become old and much abused, that an amendment of it was proposed, the populace, as they had accused Moses of the ambi- tion of making himseJf a prince, and cried out, stone him, stone him ; so, excited by their high-priests and scribes, they exclaimed against the Messiah, that he aimed at becoming king of the Jews, and cried, crucify him, crucify him. From all which we may gather, that popular opposition to a public measure, is no proof of its impropriety, even though the opposition be excited and headed by men of distinction. To conclude, I beg I may not be understood to in- fer, that our general convention was divinely iospired when it formed the new federal constitution, merely because that constitution has been unreasonably and vehemently opposed : yet, I must own, I have so much faith in the general government of the world by Pro- vidence, that I can hardly conceive a transaction of such momentous importance to the welfare of millions now existing, and to exist in the posterity of a great nation, should be suffered to pass without being in some degree influenced, guided, and governed by that omni- ♦ Numbers, ch. xvi. ESSAYS. 241 potent, omnipresent and benificent Ruler, in whom all inferior spirits live, and move, and have their be- ing. THE INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. Being a true Descrifition of the Interests and Policy of that vast Continent. TFIERE is a tradition, that, in the planting of New EiiiJland, the first settlers met with many diffi- culties and hardships ; as is generally the case when a civilized people attempt establishing themselves in a wilderness country. Being piously disposed, they sought relief from Heaven, by laying their wants and distres- ses before the Lord, in frequent- set days of fasting and prayer. Constant meditation and discourse on these subjects kept their minds gloomy and discontented ; and: like the children of Israel, there were many dispo- sed to return to that Egypt which persecution had in- duced them to abandon. At length, when it was pro- posed in the assembly to proclaim another fast, a far- mer of plain sense rose, and remarked, that the incon- veniences they suffered, and concerning which they had so often wearied Heaven with their complaints, were not so great as they might have expected, and were diminishing every day, as the colony strengthened ; that the earth began to reward their labour, and to furnish liberally for their subsistence ; that the seas and rivers were found full of fish , the air sweet, and the* climate healthy ; and above all, that they were there in the full enj(;yment of liberty, civ'l and religious : he therefore thou^;ht, that reflecting and coiivefbing X, 242 ESSAYS. on these subjects would be more confortable, as tend- ing more to make them contented with their situation ; and that it would be more becoming the gratitude they owed to the Divine Being, if, instead of a fast, they should proclaim a thanksgiving. His advice was taken, and from that day to this they have, in every year, observed circumstances of public felicity suffi- cient to furnish employment for a thanksgiving day, %vhich is therefore constantly ordered and religiously observed. I see in the public newspapers of different states frequent complaints of hard times^ deadness of trade, scarcity of money ^ Sec. &c. It is not my intention to assert or maintain that these complaints are entirely without foundation. There can be no country or na- tion existing, in which there will not be some peoole so circumstanced as to find it hard to gain a livelihood ; people who are not in the way of any profitable trade, and with whom money is scarce, because they have nothing to give in exchange for it ; and it is always in the power of a small number to make a great cla- mour. But let us take a cool view of the general state of our affairs, and perhaps the prospect will appear less gloomy than has been imagined. The great business of the continent is agriculture. For one artisan, or merchant, I suppose we have at least one hundred farmers, and by far the greatest part cultivators of their own fertile lands, from whence many of them draw not only food necessary for their subsistence, but the materials of their clothing, so as to need very few foreign supplies : while they have a surplus of productions to dispose of, whereby wealth is gradually accumulated. Such has been the goodness of Divine Providence to these regions, and so favour- able the climate, that, since the three or four years of hardship in the first settlement of our fathers here, a famine or scarcity has never been heard of amongst us; on the contrary, though some years may have been more, and others less plentiful, there has always been provision enough for ourselves, and a quantity to ESSAYS, 243 spare for exportation. And although the crops of last year were generally good, never was the iarnier bet- ter paid for the part he can spare commerce, as the published price currents abundantly testify. The lands he possesses are continually rising in value with the increase of population ; and, on the whole, he is enabled to give such good wages to those who work for him, that ail who are acquainted with the old world must agree, that in no part of it are the labouring poor so generally well fed, well clothed, well lodged, and well paid, as in the United States of America. If we enterthe cities, we find that, since the revo- lution, the owners of houses and lots of ground have had their interest vastly augmented in value; rents have risen to an astonishing height, and thence encou- ragement to increase building, which gives employ- ment to an abundance of workmen, as does also the in- creased luxury and splendour of living of the inhabi- tants thus made richer. These workmen all demand and obtain much higher wages than any other part of the world could afford them, and are paid in ready money. This rank of people therefore do not, or ought not, to complain of hard times ; and they make a very considerable part of the city inhabitants. At the distance I live from our American fisheries, I cannot speak of them with any degree of certainty ; but I have not heard that the labour of the valuable race of men employed in them is worse paid, or that they meet with less success, than before the revolution. The whale-men, indeed have been deprived of one market for their oil ; but another, I hear, is opening for them, which it is hoped may be equally advantage- ous ; and the demand is constantly increasing for their spermaceti candles, which there bear a much higher price than formerly. There remain the merchants and shop-keepers. Of these, though they make but a small part of the whole nation, the number is considerable, too great indeed for the business ihey are employed in ; for the consump- tion of goods in every country has its limits ; the ta- 244i ESSAYS culties of the people, that is, their ability to buy and pay, is equal only to a certain quantity of merchan- dise. If merchants calculate amiss on their propor- tion and import too much, they will of course find the sale dull for the overplus, and some of them will say that trade languishes. They should, and doubtless- will grow wiser by experience, and import less. If too many artificers in town, and farmers from the coun- try, flattering themselves with the idea of leading easier lives, turn shop-keepers, the whole natural quantity of that business divided among them all may afford too small a share for each, and occasion com- plaints that trading is dead ; these may also suppose that it is owing to scarcity of money, while in fact, it is not so much from the fewness of buyers, as from the excessive number of sellers, that the mischief ari- sen; and, if every ahop-keeping farmer and mechanic would return to the use of his plough and working tools, there would remain of widows, and other women, shop-keepers sufficient for the business, which might then aftbrd them a comfortable maintenance. Whoever has travelled through the various parts of Europe, and observed how small is the proportion of people in affluence or easy circumstances there, com- pared with those in poverty and misery ; the few rich and haughty landlords, the multitude of poor, abject, rack-rented, tythe-paying tenants, and half-paid and half-starved ragged labourers ; and views here the hap- py mediocrity that so generally prevails throughout these states, where the cultivator works for himself, and supports his family in decent plenty ; will, me- thinks, see abundant reason to bless Divine Providence for the evident and great difference in our favour, anxl be convinced that no nation known to us enjoys a greater share of human felicity. It is true, that in some of the states there are parties and discords ; but let us look back, and ask if we were ever without them ? Such will exist wherever there is. liberty ; and perhaps they help to preserve it. By the collision of different sentiments, sparks of trath are ESSAYS. 245 struck out, and political light is obtained. The dif- ferent factions, which at present divide us, aim ail at the public g;ood ; the differerices are only about the various modes of promoting it. Things, actions, measures, and objects of all kinds, present themselves to the minds of men in such a variety of lights, that it is not possible we should all think alike at the same time on every subject, when hardly the same man re- tains at all times the same ideas of it. Parties are therefore the common lot of humanity ; and ours are by no means more mischievous or less beneficial than those of other countries, nations, and ages, enjoying in the same degree the great blessing of political li- berty. Some indeed among us are not so mucb grieved for the present state of our affairs, as apprehensive for the future. The growtn of luxury alarms them, and they think we are from that alone in the high road to ruin. Tiiey observe, that no revenue is sufficient without ceconomy, and that the most plentiful income of a whole people from the natural productions of their country may be dissipated in vain and needless expences and poverty be introduced in the place of affiuence. This may be possible. It however rarely happens ; for there seems to be in every nation a greater proportion of industry and frugality, which tend to enrich, than of idleness and prodigality, which occasion poverty ; so that upon the whole there is a continual accumula- tion. R'jflect what Spain, Gaul, Germany, and Bri- tain were in the time of the Romans, inhabited by people little richer than our savages, and consider the wealth they at present possess, in numerous well built cities, improved farms, rich moveables,- magazines stocked with valuable manufactures, to say nothing of pla'e jewels, and coined money ; and all this, not- withstanding their bad, wasteful, plundering govern- ments, and their mad destructive wars ; and yet lux- ury and extravagant living has never suffered much re- straint in those countries. Then consider the great proportion of industrious frugal farmers inhabiting the X2 246 ESSAtS*.-' interior parts of these American states, and of whon* the body of our nation consists, and judge whether it is possible that the luxury of our sea-ports can be suffi- cient to ruin such a country — If the importation of for- eign luxuries could ruin a people, we should proba- bly have been ruined long ago ; for the British nation claimed a right, and practised it, of importing among us not only the superfluities of their own production, but those of every nation under heaven ; we bought and consumed them, and yet we flourished and grew rich. At present our independent governments may do what we could not then do, discourage by heavy duties, or prevent by heavy prohibitions, such impor- tations, and thereby grow richer ; — If, indeed, which may admit of dispute, the desire of adorring ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine furniture, with elegant houses, &c. is not, by strongly inciting to labour and in- dustry, the occasion of producing a greater value than is consumed in the gratification of that desire. The agriculture and fisheries of the United States are the great sources of our increasing wealth. He that puts a seed into the earth is recompensed, perhaps by receiving forty out of it ; and he who draws a fish out of our water, draws up a piece of silver. Let us (and there is no doubt but we shall) be at- tentive to these, and then the power of rivals, with all their restraining and prohibiting acts, cannot much hurt us. We are sons of the earth and seas, and like An- tseus in the fable, if in wrestling with a Hercules we now and then receive a fall, the touch of our parents will communicate to us fresh strength and vigour to renew the contest. ESSAYS. 247 INFORMATION. TO THOSE WHO WOULD REMOVE TO AMERICA. MANY persons in Europe having, directly or by letters, expressed to the writer of this, who is well ac- quainted with North America, their desire of transport- ing and establishing themselves in that country ; but who appear to him to have formed, through ignorance, mistaken ideas and expectations of what is to be ob- tained there ; he thinks it may be useful, and prevent inconvenient, expensive, and fruitless removals and voyages of improper persons, if he gives some clearer and truer notions of that part of the world, than have hitherto prevailed. He finds it imagined by numbers, that the inhabi- tants of North America are rich, capable of reward- ing, and disposed to reward, all sorts of ingenuity ; that they are at the same time ignorant of all the sci- ences, and consequently that strangers possessing ta- lents in the belles-lettres, fine arts, Sec. must be highly esteemed,and so well paid as to become easily rich them- selves ; that there are also abundance of profitable of- fices to be disposed of, which the natives are not qua- lified to fill ; and that having few persons of family among them, strangers of birth must be greatly re- spected, and of course easily obtain the best of those offices, which will make all their fortunes ; that the governments; to encourage emigration from Europe, not only pay the expence of their personal transporta- tion, but give lands gratis to strangers, with negroes 248 ESSAYS. to work for them, utensils of husbandry, and stocks of cattle. These are all wild imaginations ; and those who go to America with expectations founded upon them, will surely find themselves disappointed. The truth is, that though there are in that country few people so miserable as the poor of Europe, there are also few that in Europe would be called rich : it is rather a general happy mediocrity that prevails. There are few great proprietors of the soil, and few tenants ; most people cultivate their own lands, or follow some handicrafts or merchandize ; very few rich enough to live idly upon their rents or incomes, or to pay the high prices given in Europe, for painting, statues, architecture and the other works of art that are more curious, than useful. Hence the natural geniuses that have arisen in America, with such talents, have uni- formly quitted that country for Europe, where they can be more suitably rewa-rded. It is true that letters and mathematical knowledge are in esteem there, but they are at the same time more common than is appre- hended ; there being already existing nine colleges, or universities, viz. four in New-England, and one in each of the provinces of New-York, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virginia, all furnished with learned professors ; besides a number of smaller academies : these educate many of their youth in the languages, and those sciences that qualify men for the professions of divinity, law, or physic. Strangers in- deed are by no means excluded from exercising those professions ; and the quick increase of inhabitants every where gives them a chance of enjploy, which they have in common with the natives. Of civil offices, or employments, there are few ; no superfluous ones as in Europe ; and it is a rule established in some of. the states, that no office should be so profitable as to make it desirable. The 36th article of the constitution of Pennsylvania runs expressly in these words: " As every freeman, to preserve his independence, (if he has not a sufficient estate) ought to have some profession, calling, trade, or farm, whereby he may honestly sub- ESSAYS* 249 sist, there can be no necessity for, nor use in, establish- ing offices of profit ; the Hsual defects of which are dependence and servility, unbecoming freemen, in the possessors and expectants ; faction, contention, cor- ruption, and disorder among the people. Wherefore, whenever an office, through increase of fees or other- wise, becomes so profitable as to occasion many to ap- ply for it, the profits ought to be lessened by the legis* lature " These ideas prevailing more or less in all the United States, it cannot be worth any man*s while, who has a means of living at home, to expatriate himself in hopes of obtaining a profitable civil office in America ; and as to military offices, they are at an end with the war, the armies being disbanded. Much less is it advis- able for a person to go thither, who has no other quali- ty to recommend him but his birth. In Europe, it has indeed its value ; but it is a commodity that can- not be carried to a worse market than to that of America, where people do not enquire concerning a stranger. What is he ? but What can he do? If he has any useful art, he is welcome ; and if he exercises it, and behaves well, he will be respected by all that know him ; but a mere man of quality, who on that account wants to live upon the public by some office or salary, will be despised and disregarded. The hus- bandman is in honour there, and even the mechanic, because their employments are useful. The people have a saying, that God Almighty is himself a mecha- nic, the greatest in the universe ; and he is respected and admired more, for the variety, ingenuity, and util- ity of his handyworks, than for the antiquity of his family. They are pleased with the observation of a negro, and frequently mention it, that Boccarorra (meaning the white man) make de black man workee, make de horse workee, make de ox workee, make ebery ting workee ; only de hog. He de hog, no workee ; he eat, he drink, he walk about, he go to sleep when he please, he lib like a gentleman. Ac- cording to these opinions of the Americans, one of 250 ESSAYS. them would think himself more obliged to a genealo- gist, who could prove for him that his ancestors and re- lations for ten generations had been ploughmen, smiths, carpenters, turners, weavers, tanners, or even shoe- makers, and consequently that ihey were useful mem- bers of society ; than if he could only prove that they were gentlemen, doing nothing of value, but living idly on the labour of others, mere fcuges consumere natij* and otherwise good for nothings till by their death their estates, like the carcass of the negro*s gentleman hog, come to be cut ufi. With regard to encouragements for strangers from government, they are really only what are derived from good laws and liberty. Strangers are welcome because there is room enough for them all, and there- fore the old inhabitants are not jealous of them ; the laws protect them sufficiently, so that they have no need of the patronage of great men ; and every one will enjoy securely the profits of his industry. But if he does not bring a fortune with him, he n\ust work and be industrious to live. One or two years residence give him all the rights of a citizen ; but the govern- ment does not at present, whatever it may have done in former times, hire people to become settlers, by paying their passages, giving land, negroes, utensils, stock, or any other kind of emolument whatsoever.— In short, America is the land of labour, and by no means what the English call Lubberland, and the French Pays de Cocagncy where the streets are said to be pa- ved with half-peck loaves, the houses tiled with pan- cakes, and where the fowls fly about ready roasted, cry- ing, co7ne eat me I Who then are the kind of persons to whom an emi- gration to America would be advantageous ? And what are the advantages they may reasonably expect \ -born Merely to eat up the corn. Watts, ESSAYS. ' 251 Land being cheap in that country from the vast for- ests still void of inhabitants, and not likely to be occu- pied in an age to come, insomuch that the property of an hundred acres of fertile soil full of wood may be obtained near the frontiers in many places, for eight or ten guineas, hearty young labouring men) who un- derstand the husbandry of corn and cattle, which is nearly the same in that country as in Europe, may ea- sily establish themselves there. A little money saved of the good wages they receive there while they work for others, enables them to buy the land and begin their plantation, in which they are assisted by the good will of their neighbours, and some credit. Multitudes of poor people from England, Ireland, Scotland, Ger- many, have by this means in a few years become wealthy farmers, who in their own countries, where all the lands are fully occupied and the wages of labour low, could never have emerged from the mean condition wherein they were born. From the salubrity of the air, the healthiness of the climate, the plenty of good provisions, and the encou- ragement to early marriages, by the certainty of sub- sistence in cultivating the earth, the increase of inha- bitants by natural generation is very rapid in America, and becomes still more so by the accession of strangers ; hence there is a continual demand for more artisans of all the necessary and useful kinds, to supply those that every member of the convention, who may still have objections, would with me on this occasion, doubt a little of his own infallibility, and, to make manifest our unanimity, put his name to this instrument. [The. motion was then made for adding the last for- mula, viz. Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent, Sec. which was agreed to, and added accordingly.] BSSAVS. 259^ SKETCH OF AN ENGLISH SCHOOL. For the consideration of the Trustees of the P hiladeljihia Academy.* IT is expected that every scholar to be admitted in- to this school, be at least able to pronounce and di- vide the syllables in reading, and to write a legible hand. None to be received that are under years of age. FIRST, OR LOWER CLASS. Lei the first class learn the English Grammar rules, and at the same time let particular care be taken to improve them in orthography. Perhaps the latter is best done by pairing the scholars ; two of those near- est equal in their spelling to be put together. Let these strive for victory ; each propounding ten words every day to the other to be spelled. He that spells truly most of the oiher*s words, is victor for that day; he that is victor most days in a month, to obtain a prize, a pretty neat book of some kind, useful in their future studies. This method fixes the attention of children extremely to the orthography of words, and makes them good spellers very early. It is a shame for a man to be so ignorant of this little art, in his own language, as to be perpetually confounding words of like sound and different significations ; the con- sciousness of which defect makes some men, other- wise of good learning and understanding, averse to writing even a common letter. Let the pieces read by the scholars in this class be short ; such as Croxal's fables, and little stories. In giving the lessons, let it be read to them ; let the mean- * This piece did not come to hand till the volume had been some time at the press. This was the case also with several other papers ; and must be our apology for any de- fect that may appear in the arrangement. 260 ESSAYS. ing of the most difficult words in it be explained to them ; and let them con over by themselves before they are called to read to the master or usher ; who is to take particular care that they do not read too fast, and that they duly observe the stops and pauses. A vocabu- lary of the most usual difficult words might be formed for their use, with explanations ; and they might daily get a few of those words and explanations by heart, which would a little exercise their memories ; or at least they might write a number of them in a small book for that purpose, which would help to fix the meaning of those words in their minds, and at the same time furnish every one with a little dictionary for his future use. THE SECOND GLASS. To be taught reading with attention, and with pro- per modulations of the voice; according to the senti- ment and subject. Some short pieces, not exceeding the length of a Spectator, to be given this class for lessons (and some of the easier Spectators would be very suitable for the purpose.) These lessons might be given every night as tasks ; the scholars to study them against the morning. Let it then be required of them to give an account, first of the parts of speech, and construction of one or two sentences. This will oblige them frequently to recur to their grammar, and fix its principal rules in their memory. Next, of the intention of the wri- ter, or the scope of the piece, the meaning of each sentence, and of every uncommon word. This would early acquaint them with the meaning and force of words> and give them that most necessary habit of read- ing with attention. The masters then to read the piece with proper modulations of voice, due emphasis, and suitable action, where action is required, and put the youth on imitating his manner. Where the author has used an expression not the best, let it be pointed out ; and let his beauties be par- ticularly marked out to the youth. ESSAYS. 261 Let the lessons for reading be varied, that the youth may be made acquainted with pfood styles of all kinds in prose and verse, and the proper manner of reading each kind — sometimes a well-told story, a piece of a sermon, a general's speech to his soldiers, a speech in a tragedy, some part of a comedy, an ode, a satire, a let- ter, blank verse, Hudibrastic, heroic, &c. But let such lessons be chosen for reading, as contain some useful instruction, whereby the understanding or morals of the youth may at the same time be improved. It is required that they should first study and un- derstand the lessons, before they are put upon reading them properly ; to which end each boy should have an English dictionary, to help him over difficulties. When our boys read English to us, we are apt to ima- gine they understand what they read, because we do, and because it is their mother tongue. But they of- ten read, as parrots speak, knowing little or nothing, of the meaning And it is impossible a reader shoukl give the due modulation to his voice, and pronounce properly, unless his understanding goes before his. tongue, and makes him master of the sentiment. Ac» customing boys to read aloud what they do not first un- derstand, is the cause of those even set tones so common; among readers, which when they have once got a habit of using, they find so difficult to correct ; by which means, among fifty readers we scarcely find a good one. For want of good readers, pieces published with a view to influence the minds of men, for their own or the pub- lic benefit, lose half their force Were there but one good reader in a neighbourhood, a public orator might be heard throughout a nation with the same advantages, and have the same effect upon his audience, as if they stood within the reach of his voice. TUB THIRB CLASS. To be taught speaking properly and gracefully ; which is near a-kin to good reading, and naturally fol- lows it in the studies of youth. Let the scholars of this class begin with learning the elements of rhetoric from some short system, so as to be^able to give an account of the most useful tropes and figures. Let all 262 ESSAYS. their bad habits of speaking, all offences against good grammar, all corrupt or foreign accents, and all im- proper phrases, be pointed out to them. Short speech- es from the Roman or other history, or from the par- liamentary debates, might be got by heart, and deli- vered with the proper action, &c. Speeches and scenes in our best tragedies and comedies (avoiding things that could injure the morals of youth) might likewise be got by rote, and the boys exercised in delivering or acting them : great care being taken to form their man- ner after the truest models. For their farther improvement, and a little to vary their studies, let them now begin to read history, after having got by heart a short table of the principal epochas in chronology. They may begin with Rollings ancient and Roman histories, and proceed at proper hours, as they go through the subsequent classes, with the best histories of our own nation and colonies. Let emulation be excited among the boys, by giving, weekly, little prizes, or other small encouragements, to those who are able to give the best account of what they have read as to times, places, names of persons, &c. This will make them read with attention, and imprint the history well in their memories. In remarking on the history, the master will have fine opportunities of in- stilling instruction of various kinds, and improving the morals, as well as the understandings, of youth. The natural and mechanic history, contained in the Sfiectacle de la JVature^ might also be begun in this class, and continued through the subsequent classes, by other books of the same kind : for, next to the knowledge of duty, this kind of knowledge is certainly the most useful, as well as the most entertaining. — The merchant may thereby be enabled better to understand many commodi- ties in trade ; the handicraftman to improve his bu- siness by new instruments, mixtures, and materials; and frequently hints are given for new manufactures or new methods of improving land, that may be set on foot greatly to the advantage of the country. ESSAYS. ,2^3 THE FOURTH CLASS. To be taught composition. Writing one's own language well, is the next necessary accomplishment after good speaking. It is the writing-master's busi- ness to take care that the boys make fair characters, and place them straight and even in the lines : but to form their style, and even to take care that the stops and capitals are properly disposed, is the part of the English master. The boys should be put on writing letters to each other on any common occurrences, and on various subjects, imaginary business, &c. con- taining little stories, accounts of their late reading, what parts of authors please them, and why ; letters of congratulation, of compliment, of request, of thanks, of recommendation, of admonition, of consolation, ex- postulation, excuse. Sec. In these they should be taught to express themselves clearly, concisely and na- turally, without affected words or high-flown phrases, All their letters to pass through the master's hand, who is to point out the faults, advise the corrections, and commend what he finds right. Some of the best letters published in our own language, as Sir W. Tem- ple's, those of Pope and his friends, and some others, might be set before the youth as models, their beauties pointed out and explained by the master, the letters themselves transcribed by the scholar. Dr. Johnson's Ethices Elementa^ or First Principles of Morality, may now be read by the scholars, and explained by the master, to lay a solid foundation of virtue and piety in their minds. And as this class continues the reading of history, let them now, at pro- per hours, receive some farther instruction in chrono- logy, and in that part of geography (from the mathe- matical master) which is necessary to understand the maps and globes. They should also be acquainted with the modern names of the places they find mentioned in ancient writers. The exercises of good reading, and proper speaking still continued at suitable times. '.364 ESSAYS^ FIFTH CLASS. To improve the youth in composition, they may now, besides continuing to write letters, begin to write little essays in prose, and sometimes in verse ; not to make them poets, but for this reason, that nothing acquaints a lad so speedily with variety of expression, as the necessity of finding such words and phrases as will suit the measure, sound and rhime of verse, and at the same time well express the sentiment. These essays should all pass under the master's eye, who will point out their faults, and put the writer on cor- recting them. Where the judgment is not ripe enough for forming new essays, let the sentiments of a Spectator be given, and required to be clothed in the scholar's own words j or the circumstance of some good story : the scholar to find expression. Let them be put sometimes on abridging a paragraph of a diffuse author : sometimes on dilating or amplifying what is wrote more closely. And now let Dr. Johnson's Kot- tica^ or First Principles of Human Knowledge, contain- ing a logic, or art of reasoning, Sec be read by the youth, and the difficulties that may occur to them be explained by the master. The reading of history, and the exer- cises of good reading and just speaking, still continued. SIXTH CLASS. In the class, besides continuing the studies of the pre- ceding in history, rhetoric, logic, moral and natural philosophy, the best English authors may be read and explained ; asTillotson, Miltois Locke, Addison, Pope, Sv ifi, the higher papers in the Spectator and Guardian, the best translations of Homer, Virgil and Horace, of Teiemachus, Travels of Cyrus, &c. Once a )^ear let there be public exercises in the hall; the trustees and citizens present. Then let fine gilt books be given as prizes to such boys as distinguish themselves, and excel the others in any branch of learn- ing, making three degrees of comparison : giving the- best prize to him that performs best ; a less valuable ESSAYS. 265 ene to him that comes up next to the best ; and another to the third. Commendation, encouragement, and advice to the rest ; keeping up their hopes, that, by industry, they may excel another time. The names of those that obtain the prize to be yearly printed in a list. The hours of each day are to be divided and dispo- sed in such a manner as that some classes may be with the writing-master improving their hands ; others with the mathematical-master, learning arithmetic, accounts, geography, use of the globes, drawing, mechanics, &c. while the rest are in the English school, under the English master's care. Thus instructed, youth will come out of this school fitted for learning any business, calling, or profession, except such wherein languages are required ; and though unacquainted with any ancient or foreign tongue, they will be masters of their own, which is of more immediate and general use ; and withal will have attained many other valuable accomplishments : the time usually spent in acquiring those languages, often without success, being here employed in laying such a foundation of knowledge and ability, as properly im- proved, may qualify them to pass through and execute the several offices of civil life, with advantage and re- putation to themselves and country, THE BUSY-BODY.—No. I. From the jimerican Weekly Mercury, from Tuesday^ January 28, to Tuesday , February 4, 1728^ — 9. MR. ANDREW BRADFORD, I DESIGN this to acquaint you, that I, who have long been one of your courteous readers, have lately entertained some thought of setting up for an author Z 266 ESSAT&i myself: not out of the least vanity, I assure yeti, or desire of showing my parts, but purely for the good of my country. I have often observed with concern, that your Mer- cury is not always equally entertaining. The delay of ships expected in, and want of fresh advices from Eu- rope, make it frequently very dull ; and I find the freezing of our river tias the same effect on news as trade. With more concern have I continually observ- ed the growing vices and follies of my country folk ; and though reformation is properly the concern of ev- ery man, that is, every one ought to mend one ; yet it is too true in this case, that what is every body's bu- siness is no body's niusiness, and the business is done accordingly. I therefore, upon mature deliberation, think lit to take no body's business wholly into my own hands j and, out of zeal for the public good, design to erect myself into a kind of censor morum ; purposing with your allowance, to make use of the Weekly Mer- cury as a vehicle, in which my remonstrances shall be conveyed to the world. I am sensible I have, in this particular, undertaken a very unthankful office, and expect little besides my labour for my pains. Nay, it is probable, I may dis- please a great number of your readers, who will not very well like to pay ten shillings a year for being told of their faults. But as most people delight in cen- sure, when they themselves are not the objects of it, if any are offended at my publicly exposing their private vices, I promise they shall have the satisfaction, in a very little time, of seeing their good friends and neigh- bours in the same circumstances. However, let the fair sex be assured that I shall al- ways treat them and their affairs with the utmost de- cency and respect. I intend now and then to dedicate a chapter wholly to their service ; and if my lectures any way contribute to the embellishment of their minds, and brightening of their understandings, with- out offending their modesty, I doubt not of having their favour and encouragement. ?:ssAxs. 267 It is certain, that no country in the world produces naturally finer spirits than ours, men of genius for every kind of science, and capable of acquiring to per- fection every qualification that is in esteem among mankind. But as few here have the advantage of good books, for want of which, good conversation is still more scarce, it would doubtless, have been very acceptable to your readers, if, instead of an old out-of- date article from Muscovy or Hungary, you had en- tertained them with some well chosen extract from a good author. This I shall sometimes do, when I hap- pen to have nothing of my own to say that I think of more consequence. Sometimes, I purpose to deliver lectures of morality or philosophy, and (because I am naturally inclined to be meddling with things that do not concern me) perhaps I may sometimes talk poli- tics. And if I can by any means furnish out a weekly entertainment for the public, that will give a rational diversion, and at the same time be instructive to the readers, I shall think my leisure hours well employed : and if you publish this, I hereby invite all ingenious gentlemen and others (that approve of such an under- taking) to my assistance and correspondence. It is like, by this time, you have a curiosity to be acquainted with my name and character. As I do not aim at public praise, I design to remain concealed ; and there are such numbers of our family and relations at this time in the country, that, though I have signed my name at full length, I am not under the least ap- prehension of being distinguished and discovered by it. My character indeed, I would favour you with, but that I am cautious of praising snyself, lest 1 should be told my trumpeter's dead : and I cannot find in my heart, at present, to say any thing to my own disadvan- tage. It is very common with authors in their first per- formances, to talk to their readers thus, If this meets with a suitable reception, or, if this should meet with due encouragement, I shall hereafter publish, Sec. — This only manifests the value they put on their own 268 ESSAYS. writings, since they tliink to frighten tiie public into their applause, by threatening, that unless you approve what they have already wrote, they intend never to write again ; when perhaps it may not be a pin mat- ter whether they ever do or no. As 1 have not ob- served the critics to be more favourable on this account* I shall always avoid saying any thing of the kind ; and conclude with telling you, that if you send me a bottle of ink and a quire of paper by the bearer, you may de* pend on hearing further from, Sir, Your most humble servant, THE BUSY-BODY. THE BUSY-BODY.-.N0. II. From Tuesday, February 4, to Tuesday j February U, 1728—9. All fools have still an itching to deride. And fain would be upon the laughing side — ^Pope. MONSIEUR Rochefocault tells us somewhere in his Memoirs, that the Prince of Conde delighted much in ridicule, and used frequenly to shut himself up for half a day together, in his chamber, with a gentleman, that was his favourite, purposely to di- vert himself with examining what was the foible, or ridiculous side of every noted person in the court.— That gentleman said afterwards in some company, that he thought nothing was more ridiculous in any body, than this same humour in the prince ; and I am some- what inclined to be of this opinion. The general tendency there is among us to this embellishment (which I fear has too often grossly imposed upon my ESSAYS. ' 259 loving countrymen instead of wit) and the applause it meets with from a rising- generation, fill me with fearful apprehensions for the future reputation of my country: a young man of modesty (which is the most certain indication of large capacities) is hereby dis- couraged from attempting to make any figure in life ; his apprehensions of being out-laughed, will force him to continue in a restless obscurity, without having an opportunity of knowing his own merit himself, or dis- covering it to the world, rather than venture to ex- pose himself in a place, where a pun or a sneer shall pass for wit, noise for reason, and the strength of the argument be judged by that of the lungs. Among these witty gentlemen, let us take a view of Ridentius : what a contemptible figure does he make with his train of paltry admirers ? This wight shall give him- self an hours diversion with the cock of a man's hat, the heels of his shoes, an unguarded expression in his discourse, or even some personal defect ; and the height of his low ambition is to put some one of the company to the blush, who perhaps must pay an equal share of the reckoning with himself. If such a fellow makes laughing the sole end and purpose of his life, if it is necessary to his constitution, or if he has a great desire of growing suddenly fat.^ let him eat ; let him give public notice where any dull stupid rogues may get a quart of four penny for being laughed at ; but it is barbarously unhandsome, when friends meet for the benefit of conversation, and a proper relaxation from business, that one should be the butt of the com- pany, and four men made merry at the cost of the fifth. How differem from this character is that of the good-natured gay lAigenius ! who never spoke yet but with a design to divert and please ; and who was never yet b;mlked in his intention. Eugenius takes more delight in applying the wit of his friends, than in being admired himself; and if any one of the compa* ny is so unfortunate as to be touched a little too nearly, Z2 2rO ESSAYS. he will make use of some ingenious artifice to turn the edge of ridicule another way, choosing rather to make himself a public jest, than be at the pain of seeing his friend in confusion. Among the tribe of laughers I reckon the pretty gentlemen that write satyrs, and carry them about in their pockets, reading them themselves in all com- pany they happen into j taking an advantage of the ill taste of the town, to make themselves famous for a pack of paltry low nonsense, for which they deserve to be kicked, rather than admired, by all who have the least tincture of politeness. These I take to be the most incorrigible of all my readers ; nay, I expect they will be squibbing at the Busy-Body himself — However, the only favour he begs of them is this, that if they cannot controul their overbearing itch of scribbling, let him be attacked in downright biting lyrics ; for there is no satyr he dreads half so much, as an attempt at panegyric. THE BUSY-BODY— No. III. l^'rojn Tuesday y February 11, to Tuesday j February 18, 1728—9. Non vultus, instantis Tyranni Mente quatit solid a, nee auster, Dux inquieti turbidus Adaize, Nee fulmiriantis magna Jovis manus. — Hor. IT is said, that the Persians, in their ancient consti- tution, had public schools, in which virtue was taught as a liberal art or science ; and it is certainly of more consequence to a man, that he has learnt to govern his passions, in spite of temptation j to be just in his deal- ESSAYSi 271 ings, to be temperate in his pleasures, to support him- self with fortitude under his misfortunes, to behave ivith prudence in all his affairs, and in every circum- stance of life ; I say, it is of much more real advan- tage to him to be thus qualified, than to be a master of all the arts and sciences in the world beside. Virtue alone is sufficient to make a man great, glo- rious, and happy. He that is acquainted with Cato, as I am, cannot help thinking as I do now, and will ac- knowledge that he deserves the name, without being honoured by it. Cato is a man whom fortune has placed in the most obscure part of the country. His circum- stances are such, as only to put him above necessity, without affording him many superfluities : yet who is greater than Cato ? I happened but the other day to be at a house in town, where, among others, were met men of the most note in this place ; Cato had business with some of them, and knocked at the door. The most trifling actions of a man, in my opinion, as well as the smallest features and lineaments of the face, give a nice observer some notion of his mind. Me- thought he rapped in such a peculiar manner, as seem- ed of itself to express there was one who deserved as well as desired admission. He appeared in the plain- est country garb ; his great coat was coarse, and looked old and threadbare ; his linen was homespun ; his beard, perhaps, of seven days growth ; his shoes thick and heavy j and every part of his dress corresponding. Why was this man received with such concurring re- spect from every person in the room, even from those who had never known him or seen him before ? It ■was not an exquisite form of person or grandeur of dress that struck us with admiration. I believe long habits of virtue have a sensible effect on the counte- nance ; there was something in the air of his face, that manifested the true greatness of his mind : which like- wise appeared in all he said, and in every part of his behaviour, obliging us to regard him with a kind of veneration. His aspect was sweetened by humanity and 272 ESSAYS. benevolence, and at the same time emboldened with resolution, equally free from diffident bashfulness and an unbecon^ing assurance. The consciousness of his own innate worth and unshaken integrity, renders him calm and undaunted in the presence of the most great and powerful, and upon the most extraordinary occa- sions. His strict justice and known impartiality make him the arbitrator and decider of all differences, that arise for many miles around him, without putting his neighbours to the charge, perplexity, and uncertainty of law-suits. He always speaks the thing he means, which he is never afraid or ashamed to do, because he knows he always means well ; and therefore is never obliged to blush, and feel the confusion of finding him- self detected in the meanness of a falsehood. He ne- ver contrives ill against his neighbour, and therefore is never seen with a lowering suspicious aspect. A mix- ture of innocence and wisdom makes him ever seri- ously cheerful. His generous hospitality to strangers, according to his ability, his goodness, his charity, his courage in the cause of the oppressed, his fidelity in friendship, his humility, his honesty and sincerity, his moderation and his loyalty to the government, his piety, his temperance, his love to mankind, his magna- nimity, his public spiritedness, and, in fine, his consum- mate virtue, make him justly deserve to be esteemed the giory of his country. The brave do nevei? shun the light. Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; Freely without disguise they love and hate; Still are they found in the fair face of day, And heaven and men are judges of their actions. — rowe. Who would not rather choose, if it were in his choice, to merit the above character, than be the rich- est, the most learned, or the most powerful man in the province without it ? Almost every man has a strong natural desire of be- ing valued and esteemed by the rest of his species ; ESSAYS. 273 but I am concerned and grieved to see how few fall into the right and only infallible method of becoming so. That laudable ambition is too commonly misap- plied, and often ill employed. Some, to make them- selves considerable, pursue learning ; others grasp at wealth ; some aim at being thought witty ; and others are only careful to make the most of an handsome per- son : but what is wit, or wealth, or form, or learning, when compared with virtue ? It is true, we love the handsonie, we applaud the learned, and we fear the rich and powerful ; but we even worship and adore the virtuous. Nor is it strange ; since men of virtue are so rare, so very rare to be found. If we were as industrious to become good, as to make ourselves great, we should become really great by being good, and the number of valuable men would be much in- creased : but it is a grand mistake to think of being great without goodness ; and I pronounce it as certain, that there was never yet a truly great man, that was not at the same time truly virtuous. O Cretico ! thou sour philosopher ! thou cunning statesman ! thou art crafty, but far from being wise. When wilt thou be esteemed, regarded, and beloved like Cato ? When wilt thou, among thy creatures, meet with that unfeigned respect and warm good-will that all men have for him ? Wilt thou never under- stand, that the cringing, mean, submissive deportment of thy dependants, is (like the worship paid by Indians to the devil) rather through fear of the harm thou mayest do them, than out of gratitude for the favours they have received of thee ? Thou art not wholly void of virtue ; there are many good things in thee, and many good actions reported of thee. Be advised by thy friend : neglect those musty authors ; let them be covered with dust, and moulder on their proper shelves; and do thou apply thyself to a study much more pro- fitable, the knowledge of mankind and of thyself. This is to give notice, that the Busy-Body strictly forbids all persons, from this time forward, of what 274 ESSAYS. age, sex, rank, quality, degree, or denomination so- ever, on any pretence, to inquire who is the author of this paper, on pain of his displeasure, (his own near and dear relations only excepted.) It is to be observed, that if any bad characters hap- pen to be drawn in the course of these papers, they mean no particular person, if they are not particularly applied. Likewise that the author is no party-man, but a gen- eral meddler. N. B. Cretico lives in a neighbouring province. THE BUSY BODY.— No IT. From Tuesday y February 18, to Tuesday^ February 2^ 1728 — 9. Nequid nimis. IN my first paper, 1 invited the learned and the ingenious to join with me in the undertaking ; and I now repeat that invitation. I would have such gen- tlemen take this opportunity (by trying their talent in writing) of diverting themselves and friends, and im- proving the taste of the town. And because I would encourage all wit of our own growth and produce, I hereby promise, that whoever shall send me a little essay on some moral or other subject, that is fit for public view in this manner, (and not basely borrowed from any other author) I shall receive it with candour, and take care to place it to the best advantage. It will be hard, if we cannot muster up in the whole country a sufficient stock of sense to supply the Busy-Body at least for a twelve month. For my own part, I have ESSAYS. 27^ already professed, that I have the good of my country wholly at heart in this design, without the least sinis- ter view ; my chief purpose being to inculcate the no- ble principles of virtue, and depreciate vice of every kind. But as I know the mob hate instruction, and the generality would never read beyond the first line of my lectures, if they were actually filled with nothing but wholesome precepts and advice, I must therefore sometimes humour them in their own way. There are a set of great names in the province, who are the common objects of popular dislike. If I can now and then overcome my reluctance, and prevail with my- self to sacarize a little, one of these gentlemen, the expectation of meeting with such a gratification will induce many to read me through, who would other- wise proceed immediately to the foreign news. As I am very well assured the greatest men among us have a sincere love for their country, notwithstanding its ingratitude, and the insinuations of the envious and malicious to the contrary, so I doubt not but they will cheerfully tolerate me in the liberty I design to take for the end above-mentioned. As yet I have but few correspondents, though they begin now to increase. The following letter, left for me at the printer's is one of the first I have received, which I regard the more for that it comes from one of the fair sex, and because I have myself often- times suffered under the grievance therein complained of. TO THE BUSY-BODY, Sir, You having set yourself up for a censuror morum (as I think you call it) which is said to mean a reformer of manners, I know no person more proper to be ap- plied for redress in all the grievances we suffer from want of manners in some people. You must know, I am a single women, and keep a shop in this town for 276 ESSAYS.' a livelihood. There is a certain neighbour of mine, who is really agreeable company enough, and with whom I have had an intimacy of some time standing; but of late she makes her visits so exceedingly often, and stays so very long every visit, that I am tired out of all patience. I have no manner of time at all to my- self: and you, who seem to be a wise man, must needs be sensible, that every person has little secrets and privacies, that are not proper to be exposed even to the nearest friend. Now I cannot do the least thing in the world, but she must know about it ; and it is a wonder I have found an opportunity to write you this letter. My misfortune is, that I respect her very well, and know not how to disoblige her so much as to tell her, I should be glad to have less of her compa- ny ; for if I should once hint such a thing, I am afraid she would resent it so as never to darken my door again. — But alas, Sir, I have not yet told you half my affliction. She has two children that are just big enough to run about and do pretty mischief: these are continually along with mamma, either in my room or shop, if I have ever so many customers or peo- ple with me about business. Sometimes they pull the goods off my Jow shelves, down to the ground, and perhaps where one of them has just been making wa- ter. My friend takes up the stuff, and cries, *' O I thou little wicked mischievous rogue ?" But however, it has done no great damage ; it is only wet a little, and so puts it up upon the shelf again. Sometimes tliey get to my casks of nails behind the counter, and divert themselves, to my great vexation, with mix- ing my ten-penny and eight-penny and four-penny to- gether. I endeavoured to conceal my uneasiness as much as possible, and with a grave look go to sorting them out. She cries, " Dont thee trouble thyself, neighbour. Let them play a little ; I'll put all to rights before I go." But things are never so put to rights but that I find a great deal of work to do after they are gone. Thus, Sir, 1 have all the trouble and pester- ESSAYS. 277 ment of children, withom the pleasure of calling them Jny own ; and they are now so used to being here that they will be content no where else. If she would have been so kind as to have moderated her visits to ten times a day, and staid but half an hour at a time, I should have been contented, and I believe never have given you this trouble. But this very morning they have so tormented me that I could bear no longer; for \vhile the mother was asking me twenty imperti- nent questions, the youngest got to my nails, and with great delight rattled them by handsiul all over the floor ; and the other at the same time made such a terrible din upon my counter with a hammer, that I grew half distracted. I was just then about to make myself a new suit of pinners, but in the fret and con- fusion I cut it quite out of all manner of shape, and ut- terly spoiled a piece of the first muslin. Pray, Sir, tell me what I shall do. And talk a little against such unreasonable visiting in your next paper ; though I would not have her affronted with me for a great deal, for sincerely I love her and her children, as well, I think, as a neighbour can, and she buys a great many things in a year at my shop. But I would beg her to consider, that she uses me unmercifully, though I be- lieve it is only for want of thouii,ht. But 1 have twen- ty things more to tell you besides all this : there is a handsome gentleman that has a mind (I dont question) to make love to me ; but he can't get the opportunity to — -. O dear, here she comes again ; 1 must con- clude. " Your's, &c. " PATIENCE." Indeed, it is well enough, as it happens, that she is come to shorten this complaint, which I think is full long enough already, and probably would otherwise have been as long again. However, I must confess, I Aa 3T8 ESSAYS. cannot help pitying my correspondent's case, and in her behalf, exhort the visitor to remember and consi- der the words of the wise man, Withdraw thy foot from the house of thy neighbour, lest he grow weary of thee and so hate thee. It is, I believe, a nice thing and very difficult, to regulate our visits in such a manner, as never to give offence, by coming too seldom, or too often, or departing too abruptly, or staying too long. However, in my opinion, it is safest for most people, in a general way, who are unwilling to dis- oblige, to visit seldom, and tarry but a little while in a place ; notwithstanding pressing invitations, which are many times insincere. And though more of your company should be really desired ; yet in this case, too much reservedn§:ss is a fault more easily excused than the contrary. Men are subject to various inconveniences merely throuf^h lack of a small share of courage, which is a cjUdUty very necessary in the common occurrences of life, as well as in a battle. How many impertinencies do we daily suffer with great uneasiness, because we have not courage enough to discover our dislike I And why may not a man' use the boldness and freedom of telling his friends, that their long visits sometimes in- commode him? On this occasion, it may be enter- taining to some of my readers, if 1 acquaint them with the 1 urkish manner of entertaining visitors, which I have from an author of unquestionable veracity : who assures us, that even the Turks are not so ignorant of civility and the arts of endearment, but that they can practise them with as much exactness as any other nation, whenever they have a mind to show them- selves obliging. " When you visit a person of quality (says he) and having tdlked over your business, or the compliments, or whatever concern brought you thither, he makes a sign to have things served in for the entertainment, which is generally a little sweetmeat, a dish of sherbet, and another of coffee ; all which are immediately ESSAYS. 279 brought in by the servants, and tendered to all the guests in order, with the greatest care and avvfulness imaginable. At last comes the finishing pcirt of your entertainment, which is perfuming the ^beards of the company: a ceremony which is performed in this manner. They have for the purpose a small silver chaffing dish, covered with a lid full of holes, and fix- ed, upon a handsome plate. In this they put some fresh coals, and upon them a piece of lij?:num aloes, and shutting it up, the smoke immediately ascends with a grateful odour through the holes of the cover. This smoke is held under every one*s chin, and oifer- ed as it were a sacrifice to his beard. The bristly idol soon receives the reverence done to it, and so gvzzzllVy asks in and incorporates the -j^ummy stream, that it re- tains the savour of it, and may serve for a nosegay a good while after. " This ceremony may perhaps seem ridiculous at first hearing ; but it passes among the Turks for an high gratification. And I will say this in its vindica- tion, that its design is very wise and useful. For it is understood to give a civil dismission to the visitants, in- timating to them, that the master of the house has bu- siness to do, or some other avocation, that permits them to go away as soon as they please ; and the soon- er after this ceremony the better. By this means you may, at any time, without offence, deliver your- self from being detained from your affairs by tedious and uiiseasonable visits ; and from being constrained to use that piece of hypocrisy, so common in the world, of pressing those to stay longer with you, whom perhaps in your heart you wish a great way off, for having troubled you so long already." Thus far my author. For my own part, I have ta- ken such a fancy to this Turkish custom, that for the future I shall put something like it in practice. I have provided a bottle of right French brandy for the men, and citron water for the ladies. After I have treated with a dram, and presented a pinch of my best snuff, I 280 ESSAYS. expect all company will retire, and leave /hie to purstte my studies for the good of the public* ADVERTISEMENT. I give notice that 1 am now actually compiling, and design to publish in a short time, the true history of the rise, growth, and progress of the renowned Tiff Club. All persons who are acquainted with any facts, circumstances, characters, transactions, &c. which- will be requisite to the perfecting and embellishment of the said work, are desired to communicate the same to the author, and direct their letters to be left with the printer herco£ The letter signed Vv"ouId-be-som©thing is come t£^ hand. THE BUSY-BODY.—No. V. From Tuesday^ February 25 to Tuesday,^ March 4> 17*2 8— 9. Vcs, o patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est, Qccipiti caeco, posticae occurite sannae. pebsius. THIS paper being designed for a terror to evit doers, as well as a praise to them that do well, I am lifted up with secret joy to find, that my undertak- ing is approved, and encouraged by the just and good, and that few are against me but those who have reason to fear me. There are little follies in the behaviour of most men, which their best friends are too tender to acquaint them with ; there are little vices and small crimes which the law has no regard to or remedy for ; there are likewise great pieces of villainy sometimes so craft- ESSAYS. 28l ily accomplished, and so circumspectly guarded, that the law can take no hold of the actors. All these things, and all things of tins nature, come within my province as Censor, and I am determined not to be negligent of the trust I have reposed in myself, but resolve to execute my oifice diligently and fviithfuily. And that all the world may judge with how much humanity, as well as justice, I shall behave in this of- fice : and that even my enemies may be convinced I take no delight to rake into the dunghill lives of vicious men ; and to the end that certain persons may be a little eased of their fears, and relieved from the terri- ble palpitations tiiey have lately felt and suffered, and do still suffer; I hereby graciously pass an act of gen- eral oblivion, for all offences, crimes, and misde- meanors, of what kind soever, committed from the beginning of the year 1681, until the day of the date of my first paper, and promise only to concern myself wit1i such as have been since and shall hereafter be committed. I shall take no notice who has (hereto- fore) raised a fortune by fraud and oppression, nor who by deceit and hypocrisy ; what woman has been false to her good husband's bed, nor what man has, by barbarous usage or neglect, broke the heart of a faithful wife, and wasted his health and substance in debauchery: what base wretch has betrayed bis friend, and sold his honesty for gold, nor what baser wretch first corrupted hi.n, and then bought the bargain : all this, and much more of the same kind, I shall forget, and pass over in silence ; but then it is to be observed, that I expect and require a sudden and general amend- ment. These threatenings of mine, I hope will have a good effect, and, if regarded, may prevent abundance of folly and wickediiess in others, and at the same time, save me abundance of trouble ; and that people may not flatter themselves with the hope of concealing their loose misdemeanors from my knowledge, and in that view persist in evil doing, I must acquaint Aa2 282 ESSAYS. them, that I have lately entered into an intimacy with the extraordinary person, who some time since wrote me the followinii^ letter ; and who, having a wonderful faculty, that enables him to discover the most secret iniquity, is capable of giving me great assistance in my designed work of reformation. Mr. Busy-Body^ I REJOICE, Sir, at the opportunity you have giv- en me to be serviceable to you, and, by your means, to this province. You must know, that such have been the circumstances of my life, and such were the mar- vellous occurrences of my birth, that I have not only a faculty of discovering the actions of persons, that are absent or asleep, but even of the devil himself, in ma- ny of his secret workings, in the various shapes, hab- its, and iiw^mes of men and women; and having tra- velled and conversed much, and met with but a very few of the same perceptions and qualifications, I can recommend myself to you as the most useful man you can correspond with. My father's father's father (for we had no grandfathers in our family) was the same John Bunyan that writ that memorable book. The Pilgrim's Progress, who had, in some degree a natu- ral faculty of second sight. This faculty (how derived to him our family memoirs are not very clear) was en- joyed by all his descendants, but not by equal talents. It was very dim in several of my first cousins, and probably had been nearly extinct in our particular branch, had not my father been a traveller. He lived, in his youthful days in New-England. There he mar- ried, and there was born my elder brother, who had so much of this faculty, as to discover witches in some of their occult performances. My parents transporting themselves to Great Britain, my second brother's birth was in that kingdom. He shared but a small por- tion of this virtue, being only able to discern transac- tions about the time of, and for the most part after ESSAYS. 283 their happening. My good father, who delighted in the Pilj^rim*s Progress, and mountainous places, took shipping, with his wife, for Scotland, and inhabited in the Highlands, where myself was born ; and whether the soil, climate, or astral influences, of which are preserved divers prognostics, restored our ancestor's natural faculty of second sight, in a greater lustre to me, than it had shined in through several generations, I will not here discuss. But so it is, that I am possess- ed largely of it, and design, if you encourage the pro- posal, to take this opportunity of doing good with it, which I question not will be accepted of in a grateful way by many of your honest readers, though the dis- covery of my extraction bodes me no deference from your great scholars and modern philosophers. This my father was long ago aware of, and least the name alone should hurt the fortunes of his children, he, in his shiftings from one 'country to another, wisely changed it. " Sir, I have only this further to say, how I m|y be useful to you, and as a reason for my not making my- self more known in the world : by virtue of this great gift of nature, second sightedness, I do continually see numbers of men, women, and children, of all ranks, and what they are doing, while I am sitting in my closet ; which is too great a burthen for the mind, and makes me also conceit, even against reason, that all this host of people can see and observe me, which strongly inclines me to solitude, and an obscure living; and on the other hand, it will be an ease to me to disburden my thoughts and observations in the way proposed to you, by Sir, your friend and humble servant.'* I conceal this correspondent's name, in my care for his life and safety, and cannot but approve his pru- dence, in choosing to live obscurely I remember the fate of my poor monkey : he had an illnatured trick of grinning and chattering at evyry thing he saw in pttticoats: my ignorant (ountry nei.^hbours got a notion, that pug snarled by instinct at every female who 284 ESSAYS. had lost her virginity. This was no sooner generally believed, than he was condemned to death ; by whom I could never learn, but he was assassinated in the nig;ht, barbarously stabbed and mangled in a thousand places, and left hanging dead on one of my gate posts where I found him the next morning. The censor observing, that the itch of scribbling begins to spread exceedingly, and being carefully ten- der of the reputation of his country, in point of wit and good sense, has determined to take all manner of writing in verse or prose, that pretended to either, un- der his immediate cognizance; and accordingly) here- by prohibits the publishing any such for the future, till they have first passed his examination, and received his imprimatur : for which he demands as a fee only six pence per sheet. N. B. He nevertheless permits to be published, all satirical remarks on the Busy- Body, the above prohibi- tion notwithstanding, and without examination, or re- quiring the said fees ; which indulgence the small witsfin and about this city, are advised gratefully to accept and acknowledge. The gentleman who calls himself Sirronio, is direct- ed, on receipt of this, to burn his great book of cru- dities. p. S. In compassion to that young man, on account of the great pains he has taken, in consideration of the character I have just received of him, that he is really good-natured, and on condition he shows it to no for- eigner, or stranger of sense, I have thought fit to re-- prieve his said great booli of Crudities from the flames, till further order. Noli me tangero. I had resolved when I first commenced this design, «n no account to enter into a public dispute with as^y ESSAYS. 285 man ; for I judged it would be equally unpleasant to me and my readers, to see this paper filled with con- tentious wrangling, answers, replies,- Sec. which is a way of writing that is endless, and at the same time seldom contains any thing that is either edifying or entertaining. Yet when such a considerable man as Mr. finds himself concerned so warmly to accuse and condemn me, as he has done in Keimer*s last In- structor, I cannot forbear endeavouring to say some- thing in my own defence, from one of the worst of characters that could be given me by a man of worth. But as I have many things of more consequence to of- fer the public, I declare that I will never after this time, take notice of any accusations, not better sup- ported with truth and reason ; much less may every little scribbler, that shall attack me, expect an answer from the Busy-Body. The sum of the charge delivered against me, either directly or indirectly, in the said paper, is this : not to mention the first weighty sentence concerning vani» tyand ill-nature, and the shrewd intimation, that I am without charity and therefore can have no pretence to religion, I am represented as guilty of defamation and scandal, the odiousness of which is apparent to every good man, and the practice of it opposite to Christianity, morality and common justice, and in some cases, so far below all these, as to be inhuman ; a blaster of reputations; as attempting, by a pretence, to screen myself from the imputation of malice and prejudice ; as using a weapon, which the wiser and better part of mankind hold in abhorrence « and as giving treatment which the wiser and better part of mankind dislike on the same principles, and for the same reason, as they do assassination, &c. and all this is inferred and concluded from a character I have wrote in my Number HI. In order to examine the truth and justice of this heavy charge, let us recur to that character. And here we may be surprised to find what a trifle has raised this 286 ESSAYS. mighty clamour and complaint, this grievous accu- sation ! — The worst thing said of the person, in what is called my gross description (be he who he will to whom my accuser has applied the character of Cre- tico) is, that he is a sour philosopher, crafty, but not wise. Few human characters can be drawn that will not fit some body, in so large a country as this ; but one would think, supposing I meant Cretico a real per- son, I had sufficiently manifested my impartiality, when I said, in that very paragragh, that Cretico is not without virtue ; that there are many good things in him, and many good actions reported of him ; which must be allowed in all reason, very much to overbalance in his favour those worst words, sour tempered, and cunning. Nay, my very enemy and accuser must have been sen- sible of this, when he freely acknowledges, that he has been seriously considering, and cannot yet determine, which he would choose to be, the Cato or Cretico of that paper 5 since my Cato is one of the best of char- acters. Thus much in my own vindication. As to the only reasons there given, why I ought not to con- tinue drawing characters, viz. Why should any man's picture be published which he never sat for ; or his good name taken from him any more than his money or possessions, at the arbitrary will of another, &;c. I have but this to answer : the money or possessions, I presume, are nothing to the purpose ; since no man can claim a right either to those or a good name, if he has acted so as to forfeit them. And are not the public the only jutiges what share of reputation they think proper to allow any man ? Supposing I was capable, and had an inclination, to draw all the good and bad characters in America, why should a good man be of- fended with me for drawing good characters ? And if I draw ill ones, can they fit any one but those that deserve them ? And ought any but such to be con- cerned that they have their deserts ? I have as great an aversion and abhorrence for defamation and scandal as any man, and would, with the utmost care, avoid ESSAYS. 287 being guilty of such base things ; besides I am very sen- sible and certain, that if I should make use of this paper to defame any person, my reputation would be sooner hurt by it than his ; and the Busy-Body would quickly Become detestable ; because, in such a ease, as is justly t)bserved, the pleasure arising from a tale of wit and novelty soon dies away in generous and honest mindsi and is followed with a secret grief, to see their neigh- bours calumniated. But if 1 myself was actually the worst man in the province, and any one should draw my real character, would it not be ridiculous in me to say, he had defamed and scandalized me unless he had added in a matter of truth ? If any thing is meant by asking, why any man's picture should be published which he never sat for ? it must be, that we should give no character without the owner's consent. If I discern the wolf disguised in harmless wool, and contriving the destruction of my neighbour's sheep, must I have his permission, before lam allowed to discover and prevent him ? If 1 know a man to be a designing knave, must I ask his consent to bid my friends beware of him ? If so, then, by the same rule, supposing the Busy-Body had really merited all his enemy had charg- ed him with, his consent likewise ought to have been obtained before so terrible an accusation was published against him. 1 shall conclude with observing, that in the last para- graph save one of the piece now examined, much ill- nature and some good sense are co-inhabitants (as he expresses it ) The ill nature appears in his endeavour- ing to discover satire where I intended no such thing, but quite the reverse ; the good sense is this, that drawing too good a character of any one is a refined manner of satire, that may be as injurious to him as the contrary, by bringing on an examination that un- dresses the person, and in the haste of doing it, he may happen to be stript of what he really owns and deserves. As I am Censor, I might punish the first, but I forgive it. Yet I will not leave the latter unre- 288 ESSAYS. warded; but assure my adversary, ^^^^ i" consideration of the merit of those four lines, I «m resolved to forbear injuring him on any occount in that refine, manner. I thank my neighbour P W — • 1 for his kind letter. The lions complained of shall be muzzled. THE busy-body— No. VI. From Tuesday y March 20, to Tuesday j March 27, 1729. Quid non mortalia pectora cogis, Auri sacra fames? virgil, ONE of the greatest pleasures an author can have, is, certainly, the hearing his works applauded. The hiding from the world our names, while we publish our thoughts, is so absolutely necessary to this self- gratification, that I hope my well-wisiiers will con- gratulate me on my escape from the many diligent, but fruitless enquiries, that have of late been made after me. Every man will own, that an author, as such, ought to be hid by the merit of his productions only ; but pride, party, and prejudice, at this timej runs so very high, that experience shows we form our notions of a piece by the character of the author. Nay, there are some very humble politicians in and about this city, who will ask, on which side the writer is, before they presume to give their opinion of the thing wrote. This ungenerous way of proceeding I was well aware of before I published my first speculation ; and there- fore concealed my name. And I appeal to the more ESSAYS. 289 generous part of the world, if I have, since I appeared in the character of the Busy-Body, given an instance of my siding with any party more than another, in the unhappy divisions of my country ; and I have above all, this satisfaction in myself, that neither affection, aversion, or interest, have biassed me to use any par- tiality towards any man, or set of men ; but whatso- ever I find nonsensical, ridiculous, or immorally dis- honest, I have, and still continue openly to attack, with the freedom of an honest man, and a lover of my country. I profess I can hardly contain myself, or prescrvQ the gravity and dignity that should attend the censorial office, when 1 hear the odd and unaccountable exposi- tions, that are put upon some of my works, through the malicious ignorance of some, and the vain pride of more than ordinary penetration in others ; one instance of which many of my readers are acquainted with. A certain gentleman has taken a great deal of pains to write a key to the letter in my Number IV, wherein he has ingeniously converted a genile satire upon te- dious and impertinent visitants, into a libel on some of the government. This I mention only as a specimen of the taste of the gentleman ; I am forsooth, bound to please in my speculaiioRs, not that I suppose my im- partiality will ever be called in question on that account. Injustices of this nature I could complain of in many instances ; but I am at present diverted by the recep- tion of a letter, which,, though it regards me only in niy private capacity, as an adept, yet I venture to publish it for the entertainment of my readers ; *' To Censor Morum, Esq. Busy-Body General of the jProvince of Pennsylvaiiia^ and the Counties of jYciV" caattey Kent^ and Sussex iifion Delaware, " Honourable Sir, " I JUDGE by your lucubrations, that you are not; only a lover of truth and equity, but a man of parts and B b 290 E&SAY^c learning, aftd a master of science ; as such I honoas* you. Know then, most profound sir, that I have, from my youth up, been a very indefatigable student in and admirer of, that divine science, astrology. I have read over Scott, Albertus Magnus, and Cornelius Agrippa, above three hundred times ; and was in hopes, by my knowledge and industry, to gain enough to have re* compensed me for my money expended, and time lost in the pursuit of this learning. You cannot be ignorant sir, (for your intimate second-sighted correspondent knows all things) that there are large sums of mioney hidden under ground in divers places about this town, and in many parts of the country : but alas, sir, not- withstanding I have used all the means laid down in the immortal authors before mentioned, and when they failed the ingenious Mr. P — d — 1, with his mercurial wand and magnet, I have still failed in my purpose. This, therefore, I send, to propose and desire an ac* quaintance with you, and I do no doubt, notwithstand- ing my repeated ill fortune, but we may be exceed- ingly serviceable to each other in our discoveries ; and that if we use our united endeavours, the lime will come, when the Busy-Body, his second-sighted cor- respondent, and your very humble servant, will be three of the richest men in the province : and then, sir, what may we not do ? A word to the wise is suf- ficient. I conclude with all demonstrable respect, Yours and Urania's Votary, TITAN PELIADS. In the evening after I had received this letter, I made a visit to my second-sighted friend, and commu- nicated to him the proposal. When he had read it, he assured me, that to his certain knowledge, there is not at this time so much as one ounce of'silver orsgold hid under ground in any part of this province ; for that the late and present scarcity of money had obliged those, who were living, and knew were they had formerly ESS'AYS. 291 hid any, fb take it up, and use it in their own necessary- affairs : and as to all the rest, which was buried by pi- rates and others in old times, who were never like to come for it, he himself had long since dug it all up, and applied it to charitable uses ; and this he desired me to publish for the general good. For, as he acquainted me, there are among us great numbers of honest artifi- cers and labouring people, who, fed with a vain hope of growing suddenly rich, neglect their business, almost to the ruining of themselves and families, and volunta- rily endure abundance of fatigue in a fruitless search after imaginary hidden treasure. They wander through the woods and bushes by day, to discover the marks and signs ; at midnight they repair to the hopeful spots with spades and pickaxes ; full of expectation they labour violently, trembling at the same time in every joint, through fear of certain malicious demons, who are said to haunt and guard such places. At length a mighty hole is dug, and perhaps several cart- loads, of earth thrown out ; but alas, no keg or iron pot is found ! no seaman's chest crimed with Spanish pis- toles, or weighty pieces of eight I Then they conclude, that through some mistake in the procedure, some rash word spoke, or some rule of art neglected, the guardian spirit had power to sink it deeper into the earth, anci convey it out of their reach. Yet, when a man is once thus infatuated, he is so far from being discouraged by ill success, that he is rather animated to double his in- dustry, and will try again and again in a hundred dif- ferent places, in hopes at last of meeting with some lucky hit, that shall at once sufficiently reward him for all his expence of time and labour. This odd humour of digging for money through a belief, that much has been hid by pirates formerly fre- quenting the river, has for sevei'al years t)een mighty prevalent among us ; insomuch that you can hardly ^alk half a mile out of the town on any side, without observing several pits dug with that design, and per- haps some lately opened. Men, otherwise of very good sense, have been drawn into this practice, through 292 ESSAYS. an overweening desire of sudden wealth, and an ea&y cveduiity of what they so earnestly wished might be true. While the rational and almost certain methods of acquiring riches by industry and frugality are ne- glected or forgotten. There seems to be some peculiar charm in the conceit of finding money : and if the sands of Schuylkill were so much mixed with small grains of gold, that a man might in a day's time with care and application, get together to the value of half a crown, I make no question but we should find several people employed there, that can with ease earn five shillings a day at their proper trades. Many are the idle stories told of the private success of some people, by which others are encouraged to proceed ; and the astrologers, with whom the country swarms at this time, are either in the belief of these things themselves, or find their advantage in persuad- ing others to believe them ; for they are often consult- ed about the critical times for digging, the methods of laying the spirit, and the like v/himsies, which renders them very necessary to, and very much caressed by, the poor deluded money-hunters. There is certainly something very bewitching in the pursuit after mines of gold and silver and other valuable metals and many have been ruined by it. A sea- captain of my acquaintance used to blame ttie English for envying Spain their mines of silver, and too much despising or overlooking the advantages of their own industry and manufactures. For my part, says he, I esteem the banks of Newfoundland to be a more valu- able possession than the mountains of Postosi ; and when I have been there on the fishing account, have looked at every cod pulled up into the vessel as a cer- tain quantity of silver ore, which required only carry- ing to the next Spanish port to be coined into pieces of eight ; not to mention the national profit of fitting out and employing such a number of ships and sea- men. Let honest Peter Buckram; who has long with out success, been a searcher after hidden money, re- flect on this, and be reclaimed from that unaccountable ESSAYS. 293 folly. Let him consider, that every stitch he takes when he is on the shop board is picking up part of a grain of gold, that will in a few days time amount to a pistole ; and let Faber think the same of every nail he drives, or every stroke, with his plane. Such thoughts may make them industrious and of conse- quence in time they may be wealthy. But how ab- surd it is to neglect a certain profit for such a ridicu- lous whimsey ; to spend whole days at the George, in company with an idle pretender to astrology, contriving schemes to discover what was never hidden, and forget- ful how carelessly business is managed at home in their absence : to leave their wives in a warm bed at mid- night (no matter if it rain, hail, snow, or blow a hur- ricane, provided that be the critical hour) and fatigue themselves with the violent exercise of digging for what they shall never find, and perhaps getting a cold that may cost their lives, or at least disordering them- selves so as to be fit for no business beside for some days after. Surely this is nothing less than the most egregious folly and madness. I shall conclude with the words of my discreet friend, Agricola, of Chester County, when he gave his 6on a good plantation : — " My son,'* says he, " I give thee now a valuable parcel of land ; I assure thee I have found a considerable quantity of gold by digging there : thee mayest do the same : but thee must care- fully observe this, Never to dig more than plough- deep." Bb2 ^94 EXAMINATION OF THE EXAMINATION OF DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, BEFORE AN AUGUST ASSEMBLY, RELATING TO THE REPEAL OF THE STAMP-ACT, &c. Q. What is your name, and place of abode ? A. Franklin of Philadelphia. Q. Do the Americans pay any considerable taxes among themselves ? A. Certainly many, and very heavy taxes. Q. What are the present taxes in Pennsylvania, laid by the laws of the colony ? A. There are taxes on all estates real and persona], -a poll tax, a tax on all offices, professions, trades and businesses, according to their profits ; an excise on all wine, rum, and other spirits ; and a duty of ten pounds per head on all Negroes imported, with some otlier duties. Q. For what purposes are those taxes laid ? A. For the support of the civil and military estab- lishments of the country, and to discharge the heavy debt contracted in the last war. Q. How long are those taxes to continue? A. Those for discharging the debt are to continue till 1772, and longer, if the debt should not then be all discharged. The others must always continue. Q. Was it not expected that the debt would have been sooner discharged ? A. It was when the peace was made with France and Spain — But a fresh war breaking out with the Indians, a fresh load of debt was incurred, and the taxes, of course, continued longer by a new law. Q. Are not all the people very able to pay those taxes ? A. No. The frontier counties, all along the con- tinent, having been frequently ravaged by the enemy, ^^d greatly impoverished, are able to pay very little lax. And therefore, in consideration of their distresses, our late tax laws do expressly favour those counties, excusing the sufferers ; and I suppose the same is done in other governments. DR. FRANKLXK. 29S Q. Are not you concerned in the management of the Post-Office in America ? A. Yes. I am deputy post-master general of North America. Q. Don't you think the distribution of stamps, by post, to all the inhabitants very practicable, if there was no opposition ? A. The posts only go along the sea coasts ; they do not, except in a few instances, go back into the coun- try ; and if they did, sending for stamps by post would occasion an expence of postage, amounting in many cases to much more than that of the stamps them- selves. Q. Are you acquainted with Newfoundland ? A. I never was there. Q. Do you know whether there are any post roads on that island ? A. I have heard that there are no roads at all ; but that the communication between one settlement and another is by sea only. Q. Can you disperse the stamps by post in Canada ? A. There is only a post between Montreal and Quebec. The inhabitants live so scattered and remote from each other in that vast country, that posts can* not be supported among them, and therefore they can- not get stamps per post. The English Colonies too, along the frontiers, are very thinly settled. Q. From the thinness of the back settlements, would not the stamp-act be extremely inconvenient to the in* habitants, if executed ? A. To be sure it would ; as many of the inhabitants could not get stamps when they had occasion for them, without taking long journies, and spending perhaps three or four pounds, that the crown might get six* pence. Q. Are not thfc colonies, from their circumstances^ very able to pay the stamp-duty ? A. In my opinion, there is not gold and silver enough in the colonies to pay the stamp-duty for one year. 296 EXAMINATION OF Q. Don't you know that the money arising from the stamps was all to be laid out in America ? A. I know it is appropriated by the act to the Ame- rican service ; but it will be spent in the conquered colonies, where the soldiers are, not in the colonies that pay it. Q. Is there not a balance of trade due from the co- lonies where the troops are posted, that will bring back the money to the old colonies ? A. I think not. I believe very little would come back. I know of no trade likely to bring it back. I think it would come from the colonies where it was sent directly to England ; for I have always observed, that in every colony the more plenty the means, of re- mittance to England, the more goods are sent for, and the more trade with England carried on. Q. What number of white inhabitants do you think there are in Pennsylvania ? - A. I suppose there may be about 160,000. Q. What number of them are Quakers I A. Perhaps a third. Q What number of Germans ? A. Perhaps another third ; but I cannot speak with certainty ? Q. Have any numbers of the Germans seen service as soldiers in Europe ? A. Yesj — many of them, both in Europe and Ame- rica. Q. Are they as much dissatisfied with the stamp du- ty as the English ? A. Yes, and more ; and with reason, as their stamps are in many cases, to be double. Q. How many white men do you suppose there are in North America .' A. About 300,000, from sixteen to sixty years of age. Q. What may be the amount of one year's imports into Pennsylvania from Britain ? A. I have been informed that our merchants com- pute the imports from Britain te be above 500,000^. DR. mANKLlN. 297 Q. What may be the amount of the produce of your province exported to Britain ? A. It must be small, as we produce little that is wanted in Britain. I suppose it cannot exceed 40,000/. Q. How then do you pay the balance ? A. The balance is paid by our produce carried to the West-Indies, and sold in our own islands, or to the French, Spaniards, Danes and Dutch; by the same carried to other colonies in North-America, as to New- England, Nova-Scotia, Newfoundland, Carolina and Georgia ; by the same carried to different parts of Eu- rope, as Spain, Portugal and Italy. In all which places we receive either money, bills of exchange, or commo- dities that suit for remittance to Britain ; which, to- gether with all the profits on the industry of our mer- chants and mariners, arising in those circuitous voya- ges, and the freights made by their ships, centre final- ly ill Britain, to discharge the balance, and pay for British manufactures continually used in the province, or sold to foreigners by our traders. Q. Have you heard of any difficulties lately laid on the Spanish trade ? A. Yes, I have heard that it has been greatly ob- structed by some new regulations, and by the English men of war and cutlers stationed all along the coast in America. Q. Do you think it right that America should be protected by this country, and pay no part of the ex- pence ? A. That is not the case. The Colonies raised, cloth- ed and paid, during the last war, near 5,000 men, &nd spent many millions. Q. Were you not reimbursed by parliament ? A. W^c were only reimbursed what, in your opinion, we had advanced beyond our proportion, or beyond what might reasonably be expected from us ; and it was a very small part of what we spent. Pen ^.sylva- nia, in particular, disbursed about 500,000/ and the re- imbursements, in the whole, did not exceed 60,000/. Q. You have said that you pay heavy taxes in Penn- sylvania J what do they amount to in the pound ? 298 EXAMINATION OF A. The tax on all estates, real and personul, is eigh* teen pence in tlie pound, fully rated ; and the tax on the profits of trades and professions, with other taxes, do, I suppose, make full half a crown in the pound. Q. Do you know any thing of the rate of exchange in Pennsylvania, and whether it has fallen lately ? A. It is commonly from 170 to 175. I have heard that it has fallen lately from 175 to 162 and a half, ow- ing, I suppose, to their lessening their orders for goods; and when their debts to this country are paid, I think the exchange will probably be at par. Q. Do not you think the people of America would submit to pay the stamp duty, if it was moderated ? A. No, never, unless compelled by force of arms. Q. Are not the taxes in Pennsylvania laid on un-* equally, in order to burthen the English trade, particu- larly the tax ©n professions and business ? A. It is not more burthensome in proportion than the tax on lands. It is intended, and supposed to take an equal proportion of profits. Q. How is the assembly composed ? Of what kinds of people are the members, landholders or traders ? A. It is composed of landholders, merchants and ar- tificers. Q. Are not the majority landholders ? A. I believe they are. Q. Do not they, as much as possible, shift the tax off from the land, to ease that, and lay the burthen heavier on trade ? A. I have never understood it so. I never heard such a thing suggested, And indeed an attempt of that kind could answer no purpose. The merchant or trader is always skilled in figures, and ready with his pen and ink. If unequal burthens are laid on his trade, he puts an additional price on his goods ; and the consumers, who are chiefly landholders, finally pay the greatest part, if not the whole. Q. What was the temper of America towards G. Britain before the year 1763 I Sa. FRANKUN. S&Q A. The best in the world. They submitted wil- lingly to the government of the crown, and paid, in all their courts, obedience to acts of parliament. Nu- merous as the people are in the several old provinces^ they cost you nothing in forts, citadels, garrisons or armies, to keep them in subjection. They were go- verned by this country at the expence only of a little p«n, ink and paper. They were led by a thread They had not only a respect, but an affection, for Great- Britain, for its laws, its customs and manners, and even a fondness for its fashions, that greatly increased the commerce. Natives of Britain were always treated with particular regard ; to be an Old England-man, was, of itself, a character of some respect, and gave a kind of rank among us. Q. And what is their temper now ? A. O, very much altered. Q. Did you ever hear the authority of parliament to make laws for America questioned till lately ? A. The authority of parliament was allowed to be valid in all laws, except such as should lay internal taxes. It was never disputed in laying duties to regu- late commerce. Q. In what proportion hath population increased in America ? A. I think the inhabitants of all the provinces to- gether, taken at a medium, double in about 25 years. But their demand for British manufactures increases much faster, as the consumption is not merely in pro- jxjrtion to their numbers, but grows with the growing abilities of the same numbers to pay for them. In 1723, the whole importation from Britain to Pensylvania, was but abotit 15,000 pounds sterling; it is now near half a million. Q. In what light did the people of America use to consider the parliament of Great-Britain ? A. They considered the parliament as the great bulwark and security of their liberties and privileges, and always spoke of it with the utmost respect and ve- neration. Arbitrary ministers., they thought, might 500 EXAMlSTATION OP possibly, at times attempt to oppress them ; but they relied on it, that the parliament, on application, would always give redress. They remembered, with grati- tude, a strong instance of this, when a bill was brought into parliament, with a clause to make royal instruct tions laws in the colonies, which t^e house of commons would not pass, and it was thrownlptit. Q. And have they not still the same respect for par- liament. A. No ; it is greatly lessened. Q. To what causes is that owing ? A. To a concurrence of causes ; the restraints late- ly laid on their trade, by which the bringing of foreii^n gold and silver into the colonies was prevented; the prohibition of making paper money among themselves ; and then demanding a new and heavy tax by stamps ; taking away, at the same time, trials by juries, and re- fusing to receive and hear their humble petitions. Q. Don't you think they would submit to the stamp act, if it was nsodified, the obnoxious parts taken out, and the duty reduced to some particulars, of small mo- ment ? A. No ; they will never submit to it. Q. What do you think is the reason that the people of America increase faster than in England ? A. Because they marry younger, and more gene- rally. Q. Why so? A. Because any young couple that are industrious, mny easily obtain land of their own, on which they can raise a family. Q. Are not the lower rank of people more at their Cise in America than in England? A. They may be so, if they are sober and diligent, as they are better paid for their bbour. Q. What is your opinion of a future tax. imposed on the same principle with that of the stamp act ; how would the Americans receive it ? A. Just as they do this. They would not pay it. UR. FRANKLiN^ 301 Q. Have you not heard of the resolutions of this house, and of the house of lords, asserting the right of parlia- ment relating to America, including a power to tax the people there ? A. Yes, I have heard of such resolutions. Q. What will be the opinion of the Americans on those resolutions? A. They will think them unconstitutional, and un- just. Q. Was it an opinion in America before 1763, that the parliament had no right to lay taxes and duties there? A. I never heard any objection to the right of laying duties to regulate commerce ; but a right to lay inter- nal taxes was never supposed to be in parliament, as we are not represented there. Q. On what do you found your opinion, that the peo- ple in America made any such distinction ^ A. I know that whenever the subject has occurred in conversation where I have been present, it has ap- peared to be the opinion of every one, that we could not he taxed in a parliament where we were not repre- sented. But the payment of duties laid by act of parlia- ment, as regulations of commerce, was never dis- puted. Q. But can you name any act of assembly, or pub- lic act of any of your governments^ that made such dis- tinction ? A. I do not know that there was any ? I think there ■was never an occasion to make any such act, till now that you have attempted to tax us ; that has occasion- ed resolutions of assembly, declaring the distinction, in which I think every assembly on the continent, and every member in every assembly, have been unani- mous. Q. What then could occasion conversutions on that subject before that time ? A. There was in 1754 a proposition made (I think it came from hence) that in case of a war, whicU wu» then apprehended, the governors of the tolonieii should cc : 302 EXAMINATION OF meet, and order the levying of troops, building of forts, and taking every other necessary measure for the general defence ; and should draw on the treasury here for the sums expended, which were afterwards to be raised in the colonies by a general tax, to be laid on them by act of parliament. This occasioned a good deal of conversation on the subject, and the general opinion was, that the parliament neither would nor could lay any tax on us, till we were duly represented in parliament, because it was not just, nor agreeable to the nature of an English constitution. Q. Don't you know there was a time in New-York, when it was under consideration to make an applica- tion to parliament to lay taxes on that colony, upon a deficiency arising from the assembly's refusing or ne- glecting to raise the necessary supplies for the sup- port of the civil government ? A. I never heard of it. Q. There was such an application under considera- tion in New-York ; and do you apprehend they could suppose the right of parliament to lay a tax in Ameri- ca was only local, and confined to the case of a defi- ciency in a particular colony, by a refusal of its assem- bly to raise the necessary supplies ? A. They could not suppose such a case, as that the assembly would not raise the necessary supplies to support its own government. An assembly that would refuse it must want common sense, which cannot be supposed. I think there was never any such case at New-York, and that it must be a misrepresentation, or the fact must be misunderstood. I know there have been some attempts, by ministerial instructions from hence, to oblige the assemblies to settle permanent sa- laries on governors, which they wisely refused to do ; but I believe no assembly of New-York, or any other colony, ever refused duly to support government by proper allowances, from time to time to public officers. Q. But in case a governor, acting by instruction, should call on an assembly to raise the necessary sup- plies, and the assembly should refuse to do it, do you DR. FRANKLIN. 303 not think it would then be for the good of the people of the colony, as well as necessary to government, that the parliament should tax them ? A. I do not think it would be necessary. If an as- sembly could possibly be so absurd as to refuse rais- ing the supplies requisite for the maintenance of go- vernment among them, they could not long remain in such a situation, the disorders and confusion occasioned by it must soon bring them to reason. Q. If it should not, ought not the right to be in Great-Britain of applying a remedy ? A. A right only to be used in such a case, I should have no objection to, supposing it to be used merely for the good of the people of the colony. Q. But who is to judge of that, Biitain or the colony ? A Those that feel can best judge. Q. You say the colonies have always submitted to external taxes, and object to the right of parliament only in laying internal taxes ; now can you show that there is any kind of difference between the two taxes to the colony on which they may be laid ? A. I think the difference is very great. An exter- nal tax is a duty laid on commodities imported ; that duly is added to the first cost, and other charges on the commodity, and when it is offered to sale, makes a part of the price. If the people do not like it at that price, they refuse it ; they are not obliged to pay it. But an internal tax is forced from the people with- out their consent, if not laid by their own representa- tives. The stamp-act says, we shall have no commerce, make^no exchange of property with each other, nei- ther purchase nor grant, nor recover debts ; we shall neither marry nor make our wills, unless we pay such and such sums, and thus it is intended to extort our money from us, or ruin us by the consequences of re- fusing to pay it. Q. But supposing the external tax or duty to be laid on the necessaries of life imported into your coio^ 304 JEXAMINATION OF ny, will not that be the same thing in its effects as an internal tax ? A. I do not know a single article imported into the northern colonies, but what they can either do without or make themselves. Q. Don't you think cloth from England absolutely necessary to them ? A. No, by no means absolutely necessaiy ; with in- dustry and good management, they may very well sup- ply themselves with all they want. Q. Will it not take a long time to establish that manufacture among them ? and must they not in the mean while suffer greatly ? A. I think not. They have made a surprising pro- gress already. And I am of opinion, that before their old clothes are worn out, they will have new ones of their own making. Q. Can they possibly find wool enough in North America ? A. They have taken steps to increase the wool. They entered into general combinations to eat no more Iamb, and very few lambs were killed last year. This course persisted in will soon make a prodigious differ- ence in the quantity of wool. And the establishing of great manufactories, like those in the clothing towns here, is not necessary, as it is where the busines is to be carried on for the purposes of trade. The people will all spin, and work for themselves, in their own houses. Q. Can there.be wool and manufacture enough in one or two years ? A. In three years, I think there may. Q. Does not the severity of the winter, in the North- ern Colonies, occasion the wool to be of bad quality ? A. No ; the wool is very fine and good. Q. In the more Southern Colonies, as in Virginia, don't you know that the wool is coarse, and only a kind of hair ? A. I don't know it. I never heard it. Yet I have been sometimes in Virginia. I cannot say I ever took DR. FRANKLIN. 305 particular notice of the wool there, but I believe it is good, though I cannot speak positively of it ; but Virginia, and the colonies south of it, have less occa- sion for wool ; their winters are short and not very- severe, and they can very well clothe themselves with linen and cotton of their own raising for the rest of the year. Q. Are not the people, in the more northern colo- nies obliged to fodder iheir sheep ail winter ? A. In some of the most northern colonies they may be obliged to do it some part of the winter, Q. Considering the resolutions of parliament, as to the right, do you think, if the stamp-act is, repealed, that the North Americans will be satistied ? A. I believe they will. ' Q. Wny do you think so ? A, I think the resolutions of right will give them very little concern, if they are never attempted to be carried into practice. The colonies will probably con- sider themselves in the same situation, in that respect, with Ireland ; they know you claim the same right with regard to Ireland, but you never exercise it. And they may believe you never will exercise it in the Co- lonies, any more than in Ireland, unless on some very extraordinary occasion. Q. But who are to be the judges of that extraordi- nary occasion I Is i: not the parliament ? A. Though the parliament may judge of the occasion, the people will think it can never exercise such right, till representatives from the colonies are admitted into parliament, and that whenever the occasion arises, re- presentatives will be ordered. Q. Did you never hear that Maryland, during the last war, had refused to furnish a quota towards the common defence ? A. Maryland has been much misrepresented in that matter. Mai'yiand, to my knowledge, never refused to contribute, or grant aids to the crown. The assem- blies every year, during the war, voted considerable sums, and formed bills to raise them. The bills were, Cc2 306 EXAMINATION OF according to the constitution of that province, sent up to the council, or upper house, for concurrence, that they might be presented to the governor, in order to be enac- ted into laws. Unhappy disputes between the two houses arising, from the defects of that constitution prin- cipally, rendered all the bills but one or two abortive. The proprietary's council rejected them. It is true Maryland did net contribute its proportion, but it was in my opinion, the fault of the government, not of the people. Q. Was it not talked of in the other provinces as a proper measure to apply to parliament to compel them? A. I have heard such discourse ; but as it was well known, that the people were not to blame, no such ap- plication was ever made, nor any step taken towards it. Q. Was it not proposed at a public meeting I A. Not that I know of. Q. Do you remember the abolishing of the paper currency in New-England, by act of assembly ? A. I do remember its being abolished, in the Mas- sachusetts Bay. Q. Was not Lieutenant Governor Hutchinson prin- cipally concerned in that transaction ? A. I have heard so. Q. Was it not at that time a very unpopular law ? A. I believe it might, though I can say little about it, as I lived at a distance from that province. Q. Was not the scarcity of gold and silver an argu- ment used against abolishing the paper ? A. I suppose it was. Q. Whdt is the present opinion there of that law? Is it as unpopular as it was at first ? A. I think it is not. Q. Have not instructions from hence been some- times sent over to governors, highly oppressive and unpolitical ? A Yes. Q. Have not some governors dispensed with them for that reason ? A. Yes ; I have heard so* DR. FRANKLIN. 307 Q. Did the Americans ever dispute the controling power of parliament to regulate the commerce ? A. No. Q. Can any thing less than a military force carry the stamp-act into execution ? A. I do not see how a military force can be applied to that purpose. Q. Why may it not ? A. Suppose a military force sent into America, they will find nobody in arms ; what are they then to do ? They cannot force a man to take stamps who chooses to do without them. They will not find a rebellion : they may indeed make one. Q. If the act is not repealed, what do you thing will be the consequences ? A. A total loss of the respect and affection the peo- ple of America bear to this country, and of all the com- merce that depends on that respect and affection. Q. How can the commerce be affected ? A. You will find, that if the act is not repealed, they will take very little of your manufactures in a short time. Q. Is it in their power to do without them ? A. I think they may very well do without them 1 Q. Is it their interest not to take them ? A. The goods they take from Britain are either necessaries, mere conveniences, or superfluities. The first, as cloth, &c, with a little industry they can make at home ; the second they can do without, till they are able to provide them among themselves; and the last, which are much the greatest part, they will strike off immediately. They are mere articles of fashion, pur- chased and consumed, because the fashion in a respect- ed country, but will now be detested and rejected.— The people have already struck off, by general agree- ment, the use of all goods fashionable in mournings, and many thousand pounds worth are sent back as unsale- able. Q. Is it their interest to make cloth at home ? A. I think they may at present get it cheaper from 308 EXAMINATION OF Britain, I mean of the same fineness and neatness of workmanship : but when one considers other circum- stances, the restraints on their trade, and the difficulty of making remittances, it is their interest to make every thing. Q. Suppose an act of internal regulations, connected with a tax, how would they receive it ? A. I think it would be objected to. Q. Then no regulation with a tax would be submit- ted to? A. Their opinion, is, that when aids to the Crown are wanted, they are to be asked of the several assem- blies, according to the old established usage, who will as they always have done, grant them freely. And that their money ought not to be given away without their consent, by persons at a distance, unacquainted with their circumstances and abilities. The grunting aids to the Crown, is the only means they have of re- commending themselves to their sovereign, and they think it extremely hard and unjust, that a body of men, in which they have no representatives, should make a merit to itself of giving and granting what is not its own, but theirs, and deprive them of a right they esteem of the utmost value and importance, as it is the security of all their other rights. Q. But is not the post-office, which they have long received, a tax as well as a regulation ? A. No ; the money paid for the postage of a letter is not of the nature of a tax i it is merely a quantum meruit for a service done ; no person is compellable to pay the money, if he does not chuse to receive the ser- vice A man may still, as before the act, send his let- ler by a servant, a special messenger, or a friend, if he thinks it cheaper and safer. Q. But do they not consider the regulations of the post-office, by the act of last year, as a tax ? A. By the regulations of last year the rate of post- age was generally abated near thirty per cent, through all \merica ; they certainly cannot consider such abate- ment as a tax. DR. FEANKLIN. 30.9 Q. If an excise was laid by parliament which they might likewise avoid paying, not by consuming the arti* cles excised, would they then not object to it ? A. They would certainly object to it, as an excise is unconnected with any service done, and is merely an aid which they think ought to be asked of them, and grant- ted by them, if they are to pay it, and can be granted for them by no others whatsoever, whom they have not impowercd for that purpose. Q. You say they do not object to the right of parlia- ment in laying duties on goods to be paid on their im- portation ; now, is there any kind of difference between a duty on the importation of goods, and an excise on their consumption ? A. Yes ; a very material one : an excise for the rea- sons I have just mentioned, they think you can have no right to lay within their country. But the sea is yours : you maintain, by your fleets, the safety of na- vigation in it ; and keep it clear of pirates : you may have therefore a natural and equitable right to some toll or duty on merchandizes carried through that part of your dominions, towards defraying the expence you are at in ships to maintain the safety of that car- riage. Q. Does this reasoning hold in the case of a duty laid on the produce of their lands exported ? and would they not then object to such a duty ? A. If it tended to make the produce so much dear- er abroad as to lessen the demand for it, to be sure they would object to such a duty ; not to your right to lay- ing it, but they would complain of it as a burthen, and petition you to lighten it. Q. Is not!^the duty paid on the tobacco exporteAa duty of that kind ? A. That, I think, is only on tobacco carried coast- wise from one colony to another, and appropriated as a fund for supporting the college at Williamsburgh, in Virginia. Q. Have not the assemblies in the West-Indies the same natural rights with those in North America I 3iO EXAMINATION OF A. Undoubtedly. Q. And is there not a tax laid there on their sugars exported ? A. I am not much acquainted with the West-In- dies, but the duty of four and a half per cent, on Su- gars exported, was, I believe, granted by their own assemblies. Q. How much is the poll-tax in your province laid on unmarried men ? A. It is, I think, fifteen shillings, to be paid by every single freeman, upwards of twenty-one years old. Q. What is the annual amount of all the taxes in Pennsylvania. -^ A. I suppose about 20,000 pounds sterling. Q. Supposing the stamp act continued, and enforced, do you imagine that ill humour will induce the Ame- ricans to give as much for worse manufactures, of their own, and use them, preferably to better of ours ? A. Yes, I think so. People will pay as freely to gratify one passion as another, their resentment as their pride. Q. Would the people at Boston discontinue their trade ? A. The merchants are a very small number compar- ed with the body of the people, and must discontinue their trade, if nobody will buy their goods. Q. What are the body of the people in the colonies? A. They are farmers, husbandmen or planters. Q. Would they suffer the produce of their lands to rot? A. No ; but they would not raise much. They would manufacture more, and plough less. Q. Would they live without the administration of justice in civil matters, and suffer all the inconvenien- ces of such a situation for any considerable time, rather than take the stamps, supposing the stamps were protected by a sufficient force, where every one might have them ? A. I think the supposition impracticable, that the stamps should be so protected as that every one itiight DR. FRANKLIN. 311 have them. The act requires sub-distributors to be appointed in every county town, district and village, and they would be necessary. But the principal distribu- tors, who were to have had a considerable profit on the whole, have not thought it worth while to continue in the office, and I think it impossible to find sub-distribu- tors fit to be trusted, who, for the trifling profit that must come to their share, would incur the odium, and run the hazard that would attend it ; and if they could be found, I think it impracticable to protect the stamps in so many distant and remote places. Q. But in places where they could be protected, would not the people use them rather than remain in such a situation, unable to obtain any right, or recover, by law, any debt ? A. It is hard to say what they would do. I can only judge what other people will think, and how they will act, by what I feel within myself. I have a great many debts due to me in America, and I had rather they should remain unrecoverable by any law, than submit to the stamp-act. They will be debts of honour. It is my opinion the people will either continue in that situ- ation, or find some way to extricate themselves, perhaps by generally agreeing to proceed in the courts without stamps. Q. What do you think a sufficient military force to protect the distribution of stamps in every part of America ? A. A very great force ; I can't say what, if the dis- position of America is for a general resistance. Q. What is the number of men in America able to bear arms, or of disciplined militia ? A. There are, I suppose, at least [Question objected to. He withdrew. Called in again.'\ Q. Is the American stamp-act an equal tax on that ^country ? A, I think not. Q. Why so ? A. The greatest part of the money must arise from law suits for the recovery of debts, and be paid by the 312 BXAMLNATION Op lower sort of people, who were too poor easily to pay their debts It is therefore a heavy tax on the poor, and a tax upon them for being poor. Q. But will not this increase of expence be a means of lessening the number of law suits ? A. I think not ; for as the costs all fall upon the debtor, and are to be paid by him, they would be no dis- couragement to the creditor to bring his action. Q. Would it not have the effect of excessive usury ? A. Yes, as an oppression of the debtor. Q. How many ships are there laden annually in North- America with flax-seed for Ireland ? I cannot speak to the number of ships, but I know that in 1752, 10,000 hogsheads of flax-seed, each con- taining 7 bushels, were exported from Philadelphia to Ireland. I suppose the quantity is greatly increased since that time ; and it is understood that the exporta- tion from New-York is equal to that from Philadel- phia. Q. What becomes of the flax that grows with that flax-seed ? A. They manufacture some into coarse, and some in- to a middling kind of linen. Q. Arc there any slitting mills in America ? A. I think there are, but I believe only one at pre- . sent employed. I suppose they will all be set to work, if the interruption of the trade continues. Q. Are there any fulling mills there ? 1 A. A great many. | Q. Did you never hear that a great quantity of ; stockings were contracted for the army during the wari and manufactured in Philadelphia ? A. I have heard so. Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, would not the Americans think they could oblige the parliament to repeal every external law now in force ? A. It is hard to answer questions of what people at such a distance will think. Q. But what do you imagine they will think were the motives of repealing the act ? DR. FRANKLIN. 313 A, I suppose they will think that it was repealed from a conviction of its inexpediency ; and they will rely upon it, that while the same inexpediency subsists, you will never attempt to make such anotiier. Q, What do you mean by its inexpediency ? A. I mean its inexpediency on several accounts ; the power and inability of those who were to pay the tax ; the general discontent it has occasioned ; and the im- practicability of enforcing it. Q. If the act should be repealed, and the legislature should shew its resentment to the opposers of the stamp- act, would the colonies acquiesce in the authority of the leq:islature ? What is your opinion they would do ? A. I don't doubt at all, that if the legislature repeal the stamp-act, the colonies will acquiesce in the autho- rity. Q. But if the legislature should think fit to ascer- tain its right to lay taxes, by an act laying a small tax, contrary to their opinion, would they submit to pay the tax ? A. The proceedings of the people in America have been considered too much together. The proceedings of the assemblies have been very different from those of the mobs, and should be distinguished, as having no connection with each other. — The assemblies have on- ly peaceably resolved what they take to be their rights ; they have taken no measures for opposition by force, they have not built a fort, raised a man, or provided a grain of ammunition, in order to such opposition.— — - The ringleaders of riots they think ought to be punish- ed ; they would punish them themselves, if they could. Every sober sensible man would wish to see rioters punished, as otherwise peaceable people have no secu- rity of person or estate. But as to an internal tax, how small soever, laid by the legisbture here, on the people there, while they have no representatives in this legislature, I think it will never be submitted to— • They will oppose it to the last. — They do not consider it as at all necessary for you to raise money on them by Dd 314 EXAMINATION OF your taxes, because they are, and always have been, ready to raise money by taxes among themselves, and to grant large sums, equal to their abilities, upon re- quisition from the Crown — They have not only granted equal to their abilities, but, during all the last war, they granted far beyond their abilities, and beyond their proportion with this country, you yourselves being judges, to the amount of many hundred thousand pounds, and this they did freely and readily, only on a sort of promise from the secretary of state, that it should be recommended to parliament to make them compensation. It was accordingly recommended to parliament, in the most honourable manner, for them. America has been greatly misrepresented and abused here, in papers, and pamphlets, and speeches, as un- grateful and unreasonable, and unjust, in having put this nation to immense expence for their defence, and refusing to bear any part of that expence. The colo- nies raised, paid and clothed, near 25,000 men during the last war, a n\imber equal to those sent from Britain, and far beyond their proportion ; they went deeply into debt in doing this, and all their taxed estates are mort- gaged, for many years to come, for discharging that debt. Government here was at that, time very sensi- ble of this. The colonies were recommended to par- liament. Every year the King sent down to the house a written message to this purpose. That his Majesty being highly sensible of the z^^al and vigour with which his faithful subjects in North- America had exerted themselves in defence of his Majesty's just rights and possessions, recommend it to the house to take the same into consideration, and enable him to give them a proper compensation. You will find those messages on your own journals every year of the war to the very last, and you did accordingly give 200,000 pounds an- nually to the Crown to be distributed in such com- pensation to the colonies. This is the strongest of all proofs, that the colonies, far from being unwilling to bear a share of the burthen, did exceed their propor- tion ; for if they had done less, or had only equalled DR. FRANKLIN. 315 their proportion, there would have been no room or reason for compensation. — Indeed the sums reimbursed them, were by no means adequate to the expence they incurred beyond their proportion ; but they never murmured at that : they esteemed their Sovereign's approbation of their zeal and fidelity, and the appro- bation of this house, far beyond any other kind of compensation ; therefore there was no occasion for this act, to force money from a willing people ; they had not refused giving money for the purposes of the act ; no requisition had been made ; they were always wil- ling and ready to do what could reasonably be expect- ed from them, and in that light they wish to be con- sidered. Q. But suppose Great-Britain should be engaged in a war in Europe, would North America contribute to the support of it ? A. I do think they would, as far as their circum- stances would permit. They consider themselves as a part of the British empire, and as having one common interest with it ; they may be looked on here as foreign- ers, but they do not consider themselves as such. They are zealous for the honour and prosperity of this nation, and, while they are well used, will always be ready to support it, as far as their little power goes.— In 1739 they were called upon to assist in the expedi- tion against Carthagena, and they sent 3000 men to join your army. It is true Carthagena is in America, but as remote from the northern colonies, as if it had been in Europe. They make no distinction of wars, as to their duty of assisting in them. I know the last war is commonly spoke of here as entered into for the defence, or for the sake of the people of America. I think it is quite misunderstood. It^ began about the limits between Canada and Nova-Scotia, about terri- tories to which the Crown indeed laid claim, but were not claimed by any British colony ; none of the lands had been granted to any colonist ; we had therefore no particular concern or interest in that dispute. As to the Ohio, the contest there began about your right 316 EXAMINATION OF of trading in the Indian country, a right you had by the treaty of Utrecht, which the French infringed ; they seized the traders and their goods, which were your manufactures ; they took a fort which a compa- ny of your merchants, and their factors and cones- pondenis, had erecied there, to secure tliat trade.—. Braddock was sent with an army to re-take that fort (which was looked on here as another incroachment on the king's territory) and to protect your trade. It was not till after his defeat that the colonies were at- tacked. They were before in perfect peace with both French and Indians ; the troops were not therefore sent for their defence. The trade with the Indians though carried on in America, is not an American in- terest. The people of America are chiefly farmers and planters ; scarce any thing that they raise or produce is an article of commerce with the Indians. The In- dian trade is a British interest ; it is carried on with British manufactures, for the profit of British merchants and manufacturers ; therefore the war, as it com- menced for the defence of territories of the Crown, the property of no American, and for the defence of a trade purely British, was really a British war — and yet the people of America made no scruple of contributing their utmost towards carrying it on, and bringing it to a happy conclusion. Q. Do you think then that the taking possession of the king's territorial rights, and strengthening the fron- tiers, is not an American interest ? A. Not particularly but, conjointly a British and an American interest. Q. You will not deny that the preceding war, the war with Spain, was entered into for the sake of America ; was it not occasioned by captures made in the Ameri- can seas ? - A. Yes ; captures of ships carrying on the British trade there, with British manufactures. Q. Was not the late war with the Indians, since the peace with France, a war for America only ? DR. FRANKLIN. 317 A. Yes ; it was more particularly for America than the former, but it was rather a consequence or remains of the former war, the Indians not iiaviny; been tho- roughly pacified, and the Americans bore by much the greatest share of the expence. It was put an end to by the army under General Bouquet : there were not above 300 regulars in that army, and above 1000 Pennsylvanians. Q. Is it not necessary to send troops to America, to defend the Americans against the Indians ? A. No, by no means ; it never was necessary. They defended themselves when they were but an handful, and the Indians much more numerous. They contin- ually gained ground, and have driven the Indians over the mountains, without any troops sent to their as- sistance from this country. And can it be thought ne- cessary now to send troops for their defence from those diminished Indian tribes, when the colonies are be- come so populous, and so strong ? There is not the least occasion for it; they are very able to defend them- selves. Q. Do you say there were no more than SOO regular troops employed in the late Indian war ? A. Not on the Ohio, or the frontiers of Pennsylvania, which was the chief part of the war that affected the colonies. There were garrisons at Niagara, Fort De- troit, and those remote posts kept for the sake of your trade ; I did not reckon them, but I believe that on tiie whole the number of Americans, or provincial troops, employed in the war, was greater than that of the regu- lars. I am not certain, but I think so. Q. Do you think the assemblies have a right to levy money on the subject there, to grant to the Crown ? A. I certainly think so ; they have always done it. Q Are they .acquainted with the declaration of rights ? and do they know that by that statute, money is not to be raised on the subject but by consent of par- liament ? A. They are very well acquainted with it. D d2 S18 EXAMINATION OF Q, How then can they think they have a right to levy money for the Crown, or for any other than local purposes ? A. They understand that clause to relate to subjects only within the realm : that no money can be levied on them for the Crown, but by consent of parliament. The colonies are not supposed to be within the realm : they have assemblies of their own ; which are their parliaments, and they are in that respect in the same situation with Ireland. When money is to be raised for the Crown upon the subject in Ireland, or in the colonies, the consent is given in the parliament of Ire- land, or in the assemblies of the colonies. They think the parliament of Great-Britain cannot properly give that consent till it hus representatives from America ; for the petition of right expressly says, it is to be by common consent in parliament, and the people of Ame- rica have no representatives in parliament, to make a part of that common consent. Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, and an act should pass, ordering the assemblies of the colonies to indemnify the sufferers by the riots, would they obey it ? A. That is a question I cannot answer. Q. Suppose the king should require the colonies to grant a revenue, and the parliament should be against their doing it, do they think they can grant a revenue to the king, without the consent of the parliament of Great-Britain I A. That is a deep question — As to my own opinion, I should think myself at liberty to do it, and should do it, if I liked the occasion. Q. When money has been raised in the colonies upon requisitions, has it not been granted to the king ? A. Yes, always ; but the requisitions have generally been for some service expressed, as to raise, clothe and pay troops, and not for money only. Q. If the act should pjss, requiring the American assemblies to make compensation to the sufferers, and they should disobey it, and then the parliament should DR. FRANKLIX. 319 by another act, lay an internal tax, would they then: obey it ? A. The people will pay no internal tax ; and I think an act to oblige the assemblies to make compensation is unnecessary, for I am of opinion, that as soon as the present heats are abated, they will take the matter into consideration, and, if it is right to be done, tb-^y will do it of tliemselves. Q. Do not letters often come into the post-offices in America, directed to some inland town where no post goes?. A. Yes. Q. Can any private persons take up those letters, and carry hem as directed ? A. Yes; any friend of the person may do it, paying the postage that has occurred. Q. But must he not pay an, additional postage for the distance to such inland town ? A. No. Q. Can the post-master answer delivering the letter without being paid such additional postage ? A. Certainly he can demand nothing, where he does no service. Q. Suppose a person being far from home, finds a letter in a post- office directed to him, and, he lives in a place to which the post generally goes, and the letter is directed to that place, will the post-master deliver him the letter without his paying the postage receivable at the place to which the letter is directed ? A. Yes ; the office cannot demand postage for a letter that it does not carry, or farther than it does car- ry it. Q. Are not ferrymen in America obliged by act of parliament, to carry over the post without pay I A. Yes. Q. Is not this a tax on the ferrymen ? A. They do not consider it as such, as they have an advantage from persons travelling with the post. Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, and the 320 tXAMINATION OF crown should make a requisition to the colonies for a sum of money, would they grant it ? A. I believe they would. Q. Why do you think so I A. I can speak for the colony I live in ; I had it in instruction from the assembly to assure the ministry, that as they always had done, so they should always think it their duty to grant such aids to the crown as were suitable to their circumstances and abilities, whenever called upon for the purpose, in the usual constitutional manner ; and I had the honour of com- municating this instruction to that honourable gentle- man then minister. Q. Would they do this for a British concern ; as suppose a war in some part of Europe, that did not affect them ? A. Yes, for any thing that concerned the general interest. They consider themselves as a part of the whole. Q. What is the usual constitutional manner of cal- ling on the colonies for aids ? A. A letter from the secretary of state. Q. Is this all you mean, a letter from tlie secretary of state ? A. I mean the usual way of requisition, in a circu- lar from the secretary of state, by his Majesty's com- mand, reciting the occasion, and recommending it to the colonies to grant such aids as became their loyalty, and were suitable to their abilities. Q. Did the secretary of state ever write for money for the Crown ? A. The requisitions have been to raise, clothe and pay men, which cannot be done without money. Q. Would they grant money alone, if called on ? A. In my opinion they would, money, as well as men, when they have money or can make it. Q. If the parliament should repeal the stamp-act, will the assembly of Pennsylvania rescind their reso- lutions ? A. I think not. i --^.^^ ed DR. rRANKLIN. 321 Q. Before there was any thought of the stamp-act, did they wish for a representation in parliament t A. No. Q. Don't you know that there is, in the Pennsylva- nia charter, an express reservation of the right of par- liament to lay taxes there ? A. I know there is a clause in the charter, by which the king grants that he will levy no taxes on the inha- bitants, unless it be with the consent of the assembly, or by act of parliament. Q. How then could the assembly of Pennsylvania as- sert, that laying a tax on them by the stamp-act was an infringement of their rights ? A. They understand it thus ; by the same charter, and otherwise, they are entitled to all the privileges and liberties of Englishmen : they find in the great charters, and the petition and declaration of rights, that one of the privileges of English subjects is, that they are not to be taxed but by their common consent j they have therefore relied upon it, from the first set- tlement of the province, that the parliament never would, nor could by colour of that clause in the char- ter, assume a right of taxing them, till it had qualified itself to exercise such right, by admitting representa- tives from the people to be taxed, who ought to make a part of that common consent. Q. Are there any words in the charter that justify that construction ? A. The common rights of Englishmen, as declar- ed by Magna Charta, and the petition of right, all jus* " y it. *' Q. Does the distinction between internal and exter- nal taxes exist in the words of the charter ? A. No, I believe not. Q. Then may they not, by the same interpreta- tion, object to the parliament's right of external taxa- tion ? A. They never have hitherto. Many arguments have been lately used here to show them that there is no difference, and that if you have no right to tax thena 322 EXAMINATION OF internally, you have none to tax them externally, or make any other law to bind them. At present they do not reason so, but in time they may possibly be con- vinced by these arguments. Q. Do not the resolutions of the Pennsylvania as- sembly say all taxes I A. If they do, they mean only internal taxes ; the same words have not always the same meaning here and in the colonies. By taxes they mean internal tax- es ; by duties they mean customs ; these are their ideas of the language. Q. Have you not seen the resolutions of the Massa- chusetts Bay assembly ? A. I have. Q. Do they not say, that neither external nor inter* nal taxes can be laid on them by parliament ? A. I don*t know that they do ; I believe not. Q. If the same colony should say neither tax nor im- position could be laid, does not that province hold the power of parliament can hold neither I A. I suppose that by the word imposition, they do not intend to express duties to be laid on goods imported, as regulations of commerce. Q. What can the colonies mean then by imposition as distinct from taxes ? A. They may mean many things, as impressing of men, or of carriages, quartering troops on private hou- ses, and the like ; there may be great impositions, that are not properly taxes. Q. Is not the post-office rate an internal tax laid by »ct of parliament ? A. 1 have answered that. Q. Are all parts of the colonies equally able to pay taxes ? A. No, certainly ; the frontier parts, which have been ravaged by the enemy, are greatly disabled by that means, and therefore, in such cases, are usually favour- ed in our tax laws. Q. Can we at this distance, be competent judges of what favours are necessary ? BR. FRANKLIN. A.^ The parliament have supposed it, by claiming a right to make tax laws for America ; I think it impos- sible. Q. Would the repeal of the stamp-act be any discour- agement of your manufactures ? Will the people that have begun to manufacture decline it ? ^ A. Yes, I think they will ; especially if, at the same time, the trade is opened again, so that remittances can be easily made. I [have known several instances that make it probable. In the war before last, tobacco be- ing loAv, and making little remittance, the people of Virginia went generally into family manufactures. Af- terwards, when tobdcco bore a better price, they re- turned to the use of British manufactures. So fulling mills were very much diffused in the last war in Penn- sylvania, because oiils were then plenty, and remittan- ces could easily be made to Britain for English cloth and other goods. Q. If the stamp-act should be repealed, would it in- duce the assemblies of America to acknowied^;e the rights of parliament to tax them, and would they trase their resolutions ? A. No, never. Q Is there no means of obliging them to erase those resolutions ? - A None that I know of; they will never do it unless compelled by force of arms. Q. Is there a power on earth that can force them to erase them ? A. No power, how great soever, can force men to change their opinions. Q. Uo they consider the post-office as a tax, or as a regulation ? A. Not as a tax, but as a regulation and conveniency ; every assembly encouraged it, and supported it in its infancy, by grants of money, which they would not otherwise have done ; and the people have always paid the postage. Q. When did you receive the instructions you men- tioned ? * ^ 324 EXAMINATION OF A. I brought them with me, when I came to Eng- land, about 15 months since. Q. When did you communicate that instruction to the minister ? A. Soon after my arrival, while the stamping of America was under consideration, and before the bill was brought in. Q. Would it be most for the interests of Great-Bri- tain, to employ the hands of Virginia in tobacco, or in manufactures ? A. Tn tobacco to be sure. Q. What used to be the pride of the Americans ? A. To indulge in the fashions and manufactures of Great-Britain. Q. What is now their pride ? A. To wear their old clothes over again, till they can make new ones. Withdrew, CONTENTS. Page. Life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself 9 Continuation of his Life, by Dr. Stuber, - 91 Extracts from his Will - - - - - 138 On Early Marriages - _ - - - 147 On the Death of His brother, Mr. John Franklin 149 To the late Dr. Mather of Boston - - 150 The Whistle, a true Story ; written to his Nephew 153 A Petition of the Left Hand - - - 155 The handsome and deformed Leg - - - 156 Conversation of a Company of Ephemerae, with the Soliloquy of one advanced in age - 159 Morals of Chess - - - - - 161 The Art of procuring pleasant Dreams - - 165 Advice to a young Tradesman - - - 171 Necessary Hints to those who would be rich - 173 The way to make money plenty in every man's pocket - - - - - . 174 An oeconomical Project - - . - '^76 On modern Innovations in the English Language and in Printing - - - - 181 An account of the highest Court of Judicature in Pennsylvania, viz. The Court of the Press 187 Paper; a Poem - 191 On the Art of Swimming - ^ - - 193 Kew mode of Bathing - - - - ~ 196 Ee CONTENTS. Observations on the generally prevailing Doc- trines of Life and Death - - - i&8 Precautions to be taken by those who are about to undertake a Sea Voyage - - 202 ^ On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry - - 205 On the Slave Trade 210 Observations on War - - - . 214 On the Impress of Seamen - - - - 216 On the Criminal Laws, and the practice of Pri- vateering - ... - 220 Kemarks concerning the Savages of North America 227 To Mr. Dubourgh, concerning the dissentions between England and America - - 235 A comparison of the conduct of the ancient Jews, and of the Antifederalists of the United States of America - . - - 236 The Internal State of America ; being -a true Description of the Interest and Policy of that vast Continent - - . - 241 Information to those who would remove to America 247 Final speech of Dr. Franklin in the late Federal Convention - - - - - 256 Sketch of an English School - - - 259 Busy-Body, No. I. 265 . No. XL - - «■ - * 268 ^ No. IIL 270 No. IV. 274 No. V. 280 No. VI. 288 The Examination of Dr. Franklin, before an august assembly, relating to the repeal of th€r Stamp-Act, «cc» - - - ^ 265 SUBSCRIBERS^ NAMES. James Nappier Jonathan Johnson Peter Young George VV. Brideson Thomas Cooper Daniel Kewel! Henry Kyser John Folker Christian Brooker Joseph Lecount Mrs. Dover Elizabeth Waltiber William Powell Joshua F. Bethel James Robinson Israel Madax Adam Dadeker Andrew Fourman T. M. Hickey James Penick Francis A. Vacke Charles Cuniss Robert Cochran Anthony Belsterling Sarah Hamilton J. B. Reynolds Jeremiah Bore Frederick Charleton William Rea Josiah Firrin James Hindic Joseph Tucker James Harper John Roach p. S. Lorimor William Clayton Joseph Patten Abel Letherbury Anthony Jones James Subers John Welscr Ezra Comly Jonas Smith Jeremiah Walton John Brindle Isaac Will David Blackman Jacob WoolfF Benjamin Mull Joseph Gladding Jacob Mayhew Lewis Barnum Harman Ficke Jacob Fagundus George Young Christian Knott John Kehr David Clayton 328 SUBSCRIBERS* NAMES. John Brazier Henry Bycher Samuel Moore George Yorker John Sanmyer William Dover Joshua Vansant James Bishop John Craft Samuel Muires Nicholas Hartley George Shade Pery Letherbury Frederick Nice William Edwards Mrs. Maigee Peter M' Arthur Peter Jones Joseph Lewis Pireeyrine Letherbury Samuel S. Willmore Abraham Patterson Josiah Freeman Samuel Irwin Daniel Snyder Jabob H. Miller John C. Gennings George Ummenstler Thomas Street James M' Cormick Thmnas Goldsmith John Carhart Isaac Wheeler Robert Lyndsey Henry Foust Christianna Hickerman John Hass Samuel Bockius Conrad Teese Adam K. 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John Wilson Benjamin Molineux Augustus Tyler John Dougherty Charles Shults Thomas Wartenby John Penrose Frazer Work Jacob Sell M:\hlon Land Abraham Vanzile Joseph Smith Nathan Biles George PfofF Rees Peters James Soast John Calahan James Crommil Walter Gould Samuel Porter William Bradley John Clayton John Caltlesh Charles Justice Evan Stots Henry Tcter Jacob Beaumont G. R. Crooks Joseph Vantine Thomas Wallace C. F. Adler Stephen Walters George Jeffries William Caneby George W. Costen Joseph Dobbins Joseph Bozorth Joseph Whiticar John Bonder Jenks Bro\yn William Yard William Yocum Jesse Ford George Row Michael Velde Adam Stine Henry Long , Isaac Shever John Sutton William Piper James Philips James Coleman Henry Graff George Huffman John Burk Jonas Steelman William R. John Jonathan Harding Benjamin Linton Joseph A. M* Clintock Thomas Ccdlbath S-amuel A. Gardner Aury K. Valentine Timothy Conner Jacob Roat George Miller George Eckfeldt Caleb Maule John Cake R. C. 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Wisdom William Lemish Charles Hansell Thomas Cranmer Joseph Parker Merideth JoHes Lewis Davis Y. Butler James N. Chattin John Frier George Leister James Boylan Samuel Stephenson Hannah Durborow John Taylor Daniel Philips William Eyre Sarah Morris Daniel Fennimore Henry Mills Charles Ghriskey Samuel Plain Jacob Siner John Murchison William S. Melvin John Keen William^orris John M' Mullen Nathan Smith John Doray P. Brown George Smith Christopher Streper Henry Thomas William Beach Simeon Glason Paul Smith Robert Spavin John Kissick Caleb Sheward Theophilus Jones E. W. Buckman Peter Springer James Faires George Fisher Jacob Harman Samual Marot William Allmond William Pool John S. Ward Jonathan Lamborn Joseph S. Seal Joseph Newlin Jeremiah Shad Abraham Williams John Stevenson Asa Connaway Alexander Wilson Samuel Hall SUBSCRIBERS* NAMES. 333 Lewis H. Johnson Wm. J. Hallowell John Pain Samuel M. 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Thomas Charles Callada James Tolland Charles Kemble Joseph Miller Nancy Hewson Benjamin Neglee John Neglee Benjamin Morris John Medary Hugh Stevenson Robert M'Corkill Samuel Pettit Wm. Sterret John P. Ranters 334 subscribers' names." John Weiss John Miller Joseph Moyer Abm. Ogden John Miller Peter Huynk John Lawrence Enoch Phelps John Wraith Stephen Stiles Wm. Goldson Stephen H. Elliott Jacob Sink James Bradt Wm. Moyer Alfred Webb Samuel Butcher John O strand Peter K. Brewster George Hughes Abm. Doan William Rose Chas. Shauvecker George Deal Jacob Crout Spicer Hall J. Bowman Rees Scott James Johnson Charles C. Robinson Samuel Reger Samuel Tash John M