IRLF 
 

THE 
 
 , LIFE AND ESSAYS 
 
 DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 
 
 COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA 
 PUBLISHED BY LEARY & GETZ. 
 
 138 NORTH SECOND ST. 
 
FRANKLIN. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 ETI.RY civilized nation on the globe, has, at one period or 
 other, produced distinguished individuals, whose actions have 
 excited the admiration of their contemporaries, and rendered 
 them worthy of being handed down as examples to posteri 
 ty. The Memoirs of Dr. Franklin are interesting in a high 
 d"egree, and worthy the perusal of every friend to science or 
 humanity. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, the President of the United States of Ame 
 rica, in his Notes on Virginia, thus speaks in answer to the 
 assertion of the Abbe Raynal, that America has not yet 
 producd one good poet, one able mathematician, one man of 
 genius, in a single art, or a single science. When we shall 
 have existed as a nation, says Mr. J. as long as the Greeks 
 did before they produced a Homer, the Romans a Virgil, the 
 French a Racine and Voltaire, the English a Shakspeare, 
 and Milton, should this reproach be still true, we will inquire 
 from what unfriendly causes it has proceeded, that the other 
 countries of Europe and quarters of the earth shall not haye 
 inscribed any name in the roll of poets. In war we have 
 produced a Washington, whose memory will be adored while 
 liberty shall have votaries ; whose name will triumph over 
 time, and will in future ages assume its just station among 
 the most celebrated worthies of the world, when that wretched 
 philosophy shall be forgotten which would arrange him among 
 the degeneracies of nature. In physics we have a FRANK 
 LIN, than whom no one of the present age has made more 
 important discoveries, nor has enriched philosophy with more, 
 or more ingenious solutions of the phenomena of nature. We 
 have supposed Mr. Rittenhouse second to no astronomer 
 living ; that in genius he must be the first, because he is self- 
 taught, &c. 
 
In Philosophy England can boast of a Bacon, whose E- 
 says is one of the best proofs we can adduce of his transcend- 
 ant abilities ; arid America claims the enlightened FRANK 
 LIN, whose Life and Writings are the subject of the following 
 sheets. 
 
 It will only be necessary fo add, that due attention has 
 been paid in the selection of such of his productions as may 
 be adapted to general perusal. The following letter from 
 the celebrated Dr. Price to a gentleman in Philadelphia, re 
 specting Dr. Franklin will not, it is presumed, be deemed in 
 applicable : 
 
 DEAR SIR, Hackney, June, 19, 1790. 
 
 I AM hardly able to tell you how kindly I take the 
 letters with which you favor me. Your last, containing an 
 account of the death of our excellent friend, Dr. Franklin, 
 and the circumstances attending it, deserves my peculiar 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 ad 
 ditions to it. It is with a melancholy regret that I think of 
 his death; but to death we are all bound by the irrevocable 
 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 useful and virtuous shall meet in a better country 
 Beyond the grave. 
 
 Dr. Franklin, in the last letter I received from him, after 
 mentioning his age and infirmities, observes, that it has been 
 kindly ordered by the Author of Nature, that, as we draw 
 nearer the conclusion of life we are furnished with more 
 helps to wean us from it, amongst which one of the strongest 
 is the loss of dear friends. I was delighted with the accouri? 
 you gave in your letter of the honor shown to his memory at 
 Philadelphia, and by Congress : and yesterday I received a 
 high additional pleasure by being informed that the Nationa 
 Assembly of France had determined to go into mourning fo 
 him. What a glorious scene is opened there ? The arinaK 
 of the world furnish no parallel to it. One of the honors o< 
 our departed friend is, that he has contributed much to it. 
 1 1 am, with great respect, 
 
 Your obliged and very humble servant, 
 RICHARD PRICE. 
 
THE LIFE AND ESSAYS 
 
 OF 
 
 DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN 
 
 Mr DEAR SON, 
 
 I HAVE amused myself with collecting some little anec 
 dotes of my family. You may remember the inquiries I 
 made, when you were with me in England, among such of 
 my relations as were then living ; and the journey I under 
 took for that purpose. To be acquainted 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 agree 
 able employment 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 under 
 taking. 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 attend 
 ed me through every period of life to my present advanced 
 age ; and my descendants may be desirous of learning 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 
 n similar situation, derive some advantage from my narrative. 
 When I reflect, as I frequently do, upon the felicity I have 
 enjoyed, I sometimes say to myself, that, were the offer made 
 " true, I would engage to run again, from beginning to end, 
 the samo career of life. All I would ask, should be the pri 
 vilege of an author, to correct, in a second edition, certain 
 

 . . ; IFE ;A;ND ^^^AVS .OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 errors of the first: ! could <wiih, likewise, if it were in mj 
 power, to change some trivial incidents and events for others 
 more favorable. 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 opinion, so nearly 
 resembles it, as to call to mind all its circumstances, and, lo 
 render their remembrance more durable, commit them to 
 writing. By thus employing myself, I shall yield to the incli 
 nation, so natural in old men, to talk of themselves and their 
 exploits, and may freely follow my bent, without, being tire 
 some to those who, from respect to my age, might think 
 themselves obliged to listen to me ; as they will be at 
 liberty to read me or not as they please. In fine and I 
 may as 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 in 
 troductory phrase, I may say without vanity? but some strik 
 ing and > characteristic instance of vanity has immediately 
 followed. The generality of men hate vanity in others, how 
 ever strongly they may be tinctured with it themselves ; for 
 myself, I pay obeisance to it wherever I meet with it, per 
 suaded that it is advantageous, as well to the individual whom 
 t governs, as to those who are within the sphere of its influ 
 ence. Of consequence, it would, in many cases, not be 
 wholly absurd, that a man should count his vanity among 
 the other sweets of life, and give thanks to Providence for 
 the blessing. 
 
 And here let me with all humility acknowledge, that to 
 Divine Providence I am indebted for the felicity I have hi 
 therto 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 good 
 ness will still be exercised towards me, either by prolonging 
 the duration of my happiness to the close of life, or by giv 
 ing me fortitude "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 destiny, 
 and who can make our very afflictions subservient to our 
 benefit. 
 
 One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of collecting anec 
 dotes 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, 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 1 
 
 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 discover; probably erer since the institution of 
 surnames, when they took the appellation of Franklin, which 
 had formerly been the name of a particular order of indivi 
 duals.* 
 
 This petty estate would not have sufficed for their subsis 
 tence, 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 account of 
 their births, marriages, and deaths, earlier than the year 1555 ; 
 the parish register not extending farther back than that pe 
 riod. This register informed me, that I was the youngest 
 son of the youngest branch of the family, counting five gene 
 rations. My grandfather, Thomas, was born in 1598, lived 
 at Eaton till he was too old to continue his trade, when he 
 retired to Banbury, in Oxfordshire, where his son John, who 
 
 * As a proof that Franklin was anciently the common name of 
 an order or rank in England, see Judge Fortesque, De laudibu* 
 legum JlnglioR, written about the year 1412, in which is the fol 
 lowing passage, to show that good juries might easily be formed 
 in any pan of England. 
 
 Kegio etiam ilia, ita respersa refertaque est possessoribus 
 terrarum et agrorum, quod in ea, villula tam parva reperiri non 
 poterit, in qua non est miles, armiger, vel pater- fami lias, qualia 
 ibidem franklin vulgariter nuncupater, magnis ditatus possessi- 
 onibus, nee non libere tenentes et alii valecti plurimi, suis patri- 
 moniis suflicientes, ad faciendum juratam, in forma pnenotata. 
 Moreover the same country is so filled and replenished with 
 landed menne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot be found 
 wherein dwelleth r.ot a knight, an eaquire, or such a householder 
 as is there commonly called & franklin, enriched with great pos 
 sessions ; and also other freeholders and many yeomenT, able for 
 their livelihood to make a jury in form aforementioned. 
 
 Old Translation. 
 
 Chaucer too, calls his country-gentleman a franklin ; and 
 after describing his good house-keeping, thus characterizes him 
 This worthy frankelin bore a purse of silk 
 Fix d to his girdle, white as morning milk, 
 Knight of the shire, first justice at th assize, 
 To help the poor, the doubtful to advise. 
 In all employments, generous, just he prov d, 
 Renown d for courtesy, by all belov d. 
 
S LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 was a dyer, resided, and with whom my father was appren- 
 ticed. tie died, and was buned there : he saw his monu 
 ment in 1758. His eldest son lived in the family house at 
 Eaton, which he bequeathed, with the land belonging to it, 
 to his only daughter ; who, in concert with her husband, Mr. 
 Fisher, of Wellingborough, afterward sold it to Mr. Estead, 
 the present 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 absence. 
 
 Thomas had learned the trade of a blacksmith under his 
 father ; but, possessing a good natural understanding, he im 
 proved it by study, at the solicitation of a gentleman of the 
 name of Palmer, who was at that time the principal inhabit 
 ant of the village, and who encouraged, in like manner, all 
 my uncles to cultivate their minds. /Thomas thus rendered 
 himself competent to the functions of a country attorney j 
 soon became an essential personage in the affairs of the vil 
 lage; and was one of the chief movers of every public enter 
 prise, as well relative to the county as the town of Northamp 
 ton. 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 horn. I The recital that was made us of his life and 
 characteryTSy 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 : I remember him well*; , 
 for, while I was a child, he joined my father at Boston, and 
 liv.ed for some years in the house with us. A particular af- ! 
 fection had always subsisted between my father and him ; and ? 
 1 was his godson. He arrived to a great age. He left be- , 
 ^ hind him two quarto volumes of poems in manuscript, con- 
 sisting of little fugitive pieces addressed to his friends. He 
 had invented a short-hand, which he taught me, but, hav 
 ing rever made use of it, I have now forgotten it. He was 
 a man of piety, and a constant attendant on the best preach 
 ers, whose sermons he took a pleasure in writing down ao 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 9 
 
 eording to the expeditory method he had devised. Many 
 volumes were thus collected by him. He was also extreme 
 ly fond of politics ; too much so, perhaps, for his situation. I 
 lately found in London a collection which he had made of all 
 the principal pamphlets relative to public affairs, from the 
 year 1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, as appears 
 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 bookseller, who know 
 ing 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 margins. His grandson, Samuel, is now liv 
 ing at Boston. 
 
 Our humble family had early embraced the Reformation. 
 They remained faithfully attached during the reign of Queen 
 Mary, when they were in danger of being molested on ac 
 count of their zeal against popery. They naa an English 
 Bible, and, to conceal it the more securely, they conceived 
 the project of fastening it, open, with pack-threads across 
 the leaves, on the inside of the lid of the close-stool. Whea 
 my great-grandfather wished to read to his family, he revers 
 ed 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 Bible concealed un 
 der it as before. I had this anecdote from my uncle Benja 
 min. 
 
 The whole family preserved its attachment to the Church 
 of England till towards the close of the reign of Charles II. 
 when certain ministers, who had been rejected as noncon 
 formists, having held conventicles in Northamptonshire, they 
 were joined by Benjamin and Josias, who adhered to them 
 ever after. The rest of the family continued in the episco 
 pal church. 
 
 Mv father, Josias, married early in life. He went, with 
 nis wife and three children, to New England, about, the year 
 1682. Conventicles being at. that time prohibited by law, 
 and frequently disturbed, some considerable 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. 
 
10 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 My father had also, by the same wife, four children born 
 in America, and ten others by a second wife, making in all 
 seventeen. I remember to have seen thirteen seated toge 
 ther at his table, who all arrived at years of maturity, and 
 were married. I was the last of the sons, and the youngest 
 child, excepting two daughters. I was born at. Boston, in 
 New England. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah 
 Folder, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colonists 
 of New England, of whom Cotton Mather makes honor 
 able mention, in his Ecclesiastical History ot that province, 
 as l a pious and learned Englishman if I rightly recollect 
 his expressions. I have been told of his having written a 
 variety 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, agreeably to the 
 taste of the times and the country. The author addresses 
 himself to the governors for the time being, speaks for liberty 
 of conscience, and in favor of the anabaptists, quakers, and 
 other sectaries, who had suffered persecution. To this per 
 secution he attributes the wars with the natives, and other 
 calamities which afflicted the country, regarding them as the 
 judgments of God in punishment of so odious an offence, and 
 he exhorts the government to the repeal of laws so contrary 
 to charity. The poem appeared to be written with a manly 
 freedom and a pleasing simplicity. I recollect the six cci> 
 cluding lines, though I have forgotten the order of words ol 
 the two first; the sense of which was, that his censures were 
 tictated by benevolence, and that, of consequence, he wisn- 
 
 eJ to be known as the author ; because, said he, I hate from 
 
 my very soul dissimulation. 
 
 From Sherburn,* 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 destined ma for the church, 
 and already regarded me as the chaplain of rny family. The 
 promptitude with which from my infancy 1 had learned to 
 read, for I do not remember to have been ever without this 
 acquirement, and the encouragement of his friends, who as 
 eured him that I should one day certainly become a man of 
 
 * Town in the is 1 and of Nantu: vet. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. H 
 
 Mters, 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 vear at the grammar- 
 school, although, in this short interval, I had risen from the 
 middle to the head of my class, from thence to the class im 
 mediately above, and was to pass, at the end of the year, to 
 the one next in order. But my father, burdened with a nu 
 merous family, found that he was incapable, without subject 
 ing himself to difficulties, of providing for the expenses of a 
 collegiate education ; and considering, besides, as I heard 
 him say to his friends, that persons so educated were often 
 
 Eoorly provided for, he renounced his first intentions, took me 
 om the grammar-school, and sent me to a school for writing 
 and arithmetic, kept by a Mr. George Brownwell, who was a 
 skilful master, and succeeded very well in his profession by 
 employing gentle means only, and such as were calculated to 
 encourage his scholars. Under him I soon acquired an ex 
 cellent hand ; but I failed in arithmetic, and made therein no 
 sort of progress. 
 
 At the age often years, I was called home to assist my fa 
 ther in his occupation, which was that of a soap-boiler and 
 tallow-chandler; a business to which he had served no ap 
 prenticeship, but which he embraced on his arrival in New 
 England, because he found his own, that of dyer, in too little 
 request to enable him to maintain his family. I was accord 
 ingly employed in cutting the wicks, filling the moulds, taking 
 care of the shop, carrying messages, &c. 
 
 This business displeased me, and I felt a strong inclination 
 for a sea life ; but my father set his face against it. The vi 
 cinity of the water, however, gave me frequent opportunities 
 of venturing myself both upon and within it, and I soon ac 
 quired the art of swimming, and of managing a boat. When 
 embarked with other children, the helm was commonly depu 
 ted to me, particularly on difficult occasions ; and, in 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 disposition 
 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, up 
 on the borders of which we were accustomed to take our 
 stand, at high water, to angle for small fish. By dint of walk 
 ing, we had converted the place into a perfect quagmire. 
 
12 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 My proposal was to erect a wharf that should afford us firm 
 footing ; and I pointed out to my companions a large heap of 
 stones, intended for the building a new house near the marsh, 
 and which were well adapted for our purpose. Accordingly, 
 when the workmen retired in the evening, I assembled a num 
 ber of my play-fellows, and by laboring diligently, like ants, 
 sometimes 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 find 
 ing their stones ; which had been conveyed to our wharf. In 
 quiries were made respecting the authors of this conveyance ; 
 we were discovered : complaints were exhibited against us ; 
 and many of us underwent correction on the part of our pa 
 rents ; and though I strenuously defended the utility of the 
 work, my father at length convinced me, that nothing which 
 was not strictly honest could be useful. 
 
 It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you to know what 
 sort of a man my father was. He had an excellent constitu 
 tion, was of a middle size, but well made and strong, and ex 
 tremely active in whatever he undertook. He designed with 
 a degree of neatness, and knew a little of music. His voice 
 was sonorous and agreeable, so that when he sung a psalm 
 or hymn, with the accompaniment of his violin, as was his 
 frequent practice in an evening, when the labors of the day 
 were finished, it was truly delightful to hear him. He was 
 versed also in mechanics, and could, upon occasion, use the 
 tools of a variety of trades. But his greatest excellence was 
 a sound understanding and solid judgment in matters of pru 
 dence, both in public and private life. In the former indeed 
 he never engaged, because his numerous family, and the me 
 diocrity of his fortune, kept him unremittingly employed in the 
 duties of his profession. But I well remember that the lead 
 ing men of the place used frequently to come and ask his ad 
 vice respecting the affairs of the town, or of the church to 
 which he belonsed, and that they paid much deference to his 
 opinion. Individuals were also in the habit of consulting him 
 in their private affairs, and he was often chosen arbiter be 
 tween contending parties. 
 
 He was fond of having at his table, as often as possible, 
 some friends or well-informed neighbors, 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 con 
 duct of life. He never talked of the meats which appeared 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 13 
 
 upon the table, never discussed whether they were well or 
 ill-dressed, of a good or bad flavor, high-seasoned, or other 
 wise, preferable or inferior t.o this or that dish of a similar 
 kind. Thus accustomed, from my infancy, to the utmost in 
 attention as to these objects, I have been perfectly regardless 
 of what kind of food was before me ; and I pay so little at 
 tention to it even now, that it would be a hard matter for me 
 to recollect, a few hours after 1 had dined, of what my dinner 
 had consisted. When travelling, I have particularly expe 
 rienced the advantage of this habil ; for it has often happen 
 ed to me to be in company with persons, who, having a more 
 delicate, because a more, exercised taste, have suffered in 
 many cases considerable inconvenience ; while, as to my 
 self, I have had nothing to desire. 
 
 My mother was likewise possessed of an excellent consti 
 tution. 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 stone 
 over their grave, with this inscription : 
 
 "Here lie 
 
 JOSIAS FRANKLIN and ABIAH hia wife : They lived to- 
 gether with reciprocal affection for fifty-nine years ; and 
 without private fortune, without lucrative employment, by 
 assiduous labor and honest industry, decently supported a 
 numerous family, and educated with success, thirteen 
 children, and seven grandchildren. Let this example, read- 
 er, encourage thee diligently to discharge the duties of thy 
 calling, and to rely on the support of Divine Providence. 
 
 " He was pious and prudent, 
 
 "She discreet and virtuous. 
 
 " Their youngest son, from a sentiment of filial 
 
 " duty, consecrates this stone 
 
 " to their memory." 
 
 I perceive, by my rambling digressions, that I am grow- 
 ing old. But we do not dress for a private company as fora 
 formal ball. This deserves, perhaps, the name of negli 
 gence. 
 
 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 
 
14 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 my father, and being married and settled in business on his 
 own account at Rhode Island, I was destined, to all appear 
 ance, to supply his place, and be a candle-maker all my life : 
 but my dislike of this occupation continuing, my father was 
 apprehensive, that, if a more agreeable one were not offered 
 me, I might play the truant and escape to sea ; as, to his ex 
 treme mortification, my brother Josias had done. He there 
 fore took me sometimes to see masons, coopers, braziers, 
 joiners, and other mechanics, employed at their work ; in or 
 der to discover the bent of my inclination, and to fix it if he 
 could upon some occupation that might retain me on shore. 
 I have since, in consequence of these visits, derived no small 
 pleasure from seeing skilful workmen handle their tools ; and 
 it has proved of considerable benefit, to have acquired there 
 by sufficient knowledge to be able to make little things for 
 myself, when I have had no mechanic at hand, and to con 
 struct small machines for my experiments, 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 cutler, and 
 I was placed for some days upon trial with my cousin Sa 
 muel, son of my uncle Benjamin, who had learned this trade 
 in London, and had established himself 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 had laid out in books all the money I could 
 procure. I was particularly pleased with accounts of voy 
 ages. My first acquisition was Bunyan s collection in small 
 separate volumes. These I afterward 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 little library was principally made up of books 
 of practical and polemical theology. I read the greatest 
 part of them. I have since often regretted that at a time 
 when I had so great a thirst for knowledge, more eligible 
 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 em 
 ployed the time I devoted to them. I found besides a work 
 of De Foe s, entitled an Essay on Projects, from which, per- 
 naps, I derived impressions that have since influenced some 
 of the principal events of my life. 
 
ilSF 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 18 
 
 My inclination for books at last determined my father to 
 make me a printer, though he had already a son in that profes 
 sion. My brother had returned from England in 1717, with a 
 press and types, in order to establish a printing-house at Bos 
 ton. This business pleased me much better than that of my 
 father, though I had still a predilection for the sea". To pre 
 vent the effects which might result from this inclination, my 
 father was impatient to see me engaged with my brother. 
 I held back for some time ; at length, however, I suffered my 
 self to be persuaded, and signed my indentures, being then 
 only twelve y<-ars of age. It was agreed that. I should serve 
 as appren ice to the ago of twenty-one, and should receive 
 journeyman s wages only during the last year. 
 
 In a very short time I made great proficiency in this bu 
 siness, and became very serviceable to my brother. I had 
 now an opportunity of procuring better books. The acquaint 
 ance I necessarily formed with booksellers apprentices, en 
 abled 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 
 r<=- adinor by mv bed-side, when the book had been lent me in 
 the evening, 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 a handsome collection of books, and who frequented 
 our printing-house, took notice of me. He invited me to see 
 his library, and had (he goodness to lend me any books I was 
 desirous of reading. I then took a strange fancy for poetry, 
 and composed several little pieces. My brother, thinking he 
 might rind his account in it, encouraged me, and engaged me 
 Vo write two ballads. One, called the Lighthouse Tragedy, 
 contained an account of the shipwreck of Captain Worthi- 
 lake 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 blindmen s 
 ditties. When printed, he dispatched me about the town to 
 sell them. The first had a prodigious run, because the event 
 was recent, and had made a great noise. 
 
 My vanity was flattered by this success; but my father 
 cheeked my exultation, by ridiculing my productions, and 
 telling me that versifiers were always poor. I thus escaped 
 the misfortune of being a very wretched poet. But as thi 
 faculty of writing prose has been of great service to me in 
 the course of mj life, and principally contributed to my ad 
 
16 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 vancement, I shall relate by what means, situated as I 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 J was in 
 timately connected. We frequently engaged in dispute, and 
 were indeed so fond of argumentation, that nothing was s 
 agreeable to us as a war of words. This contentious temper. 
 I would observe by-the-bye, is in danger of becoming a ver) 
 bad habit, and frequently renders a man s company insup 
 portable, as being no otherwise capable of indulgence than 
 by an indiscriminate contradiction. Independently of the 
 acrimony and discord it introduces into conversation, it is 
 often productive of dislike, and even hatred, between persons 
 to whom friendship is indispensably necessary. I acquired 
 it by reading, while I lived with my father, books of religious 
 controversy. I have since remarked, that men of sense sel 
 dom 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 was proper to in 
 struct 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 copi 
 ously from his lips ; and frequently I thought myself van 
 quished, more by his volubility than by the force of his argu 
 ment. We separated without coming to an agreement upon 
 this point, and as we were not to see each other again for 
 some time, I committed my thoughts to paper, made a fair 
 copy, and sent it to him. He answered, and I replied. Three or 
 four letters had been written by each, when my father chanced 
 to light upon my papers and read them. Without entering 
 into the merits of the cause, he embraced the opportunity of 
 speaking to me upon my manner of writing. He observed, 
 that though I had the advantage of my adversary in correct 
 spelling and pointing, which I owed to my occupation, I was 
 greatly his inferior in elegance of expression, in arrangement, 
 and perspicuity. Of this he convinced me by several exam 
 ples. I felt the justice of his remarks, became more atten 
 tive 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 en- 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 17 
 
 Chanted with it, thought the style excellent, and wished it 
 were in my power to imitate it. With this view I selected 
 some of the papers, made short summaries of the sense of 
 each period, and put them for a few days aside. I then, with 
 out looking at the book, endeavored to restore the ess-ays to 
 their due 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 afterward compared my Spec 
 tator with the original ; I perceived some faults, which I cor 
 rected : but I found that I wanted a fund of words, if I may 
 so express myself, and a facility of recollecting and employ 
 ing them, which I thought I should by that time have ac 
 quired, had I continued to make verses. The continual need 
 of words of the same meaning, but of different lengths for the 
 measure, or of different sounds for the rhyme, would have 
 obliged me to seek for a variety of synonymes, and have ren 
 dered me master of them. From this belief, I took some of 
 the tales of the Spectator and turned them into verse ; and, 
 after a time, when I had sufficiently forgotten them, I again 
 converted them into prose. 
 
 Sometimes, also, I mingled all my summaries together ; 
 and, a few weeks after endeavored to arrange them in the 
 best order, before I attempted to form the periods and com 
 plete the essays. This I did with the view of acquiring me 
 thod in the arrangement of my thoughts. On comparing at 
 terward my performance with the original, many faults were 
 apparent, which I corrected; but I had sometimes the satis 
 faction 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 decently in the English language, 
 which was one of the great objects of my ambition. 
 
 The time which I devoted to these exercises, and to read 
 ing, was the evening after my day s labor 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 considered 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 Tyron fell into 
 my hands, in which he recommends vegetable diet. I deter 
 mined to observe it. My brother being a bachelor, did uot 
 keep house, but boarded \vitii his apprentices in a neighbor 
 ing family. My refusing to eat animal food was found incon 
 venient, a.n<l I was often scolded for my singularity. I at- 
 
18 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN 
 
 tended to the mode in which Tyron prepared some of his 
 dishes, particularly 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 offer was instantly em- 
 oraced, and I soon found that of what he gave rne I was able 
 to save half. This was a new fund for the purchase of books 
 and other advantages resulted to me from the plan. When 
 my brother and his workmen left the printing-house to go to 
 dinner, I remained behind ; and dispatching my frugal meal, 
 which frequently consisted of a biscuit only, or a slice of 
 oread 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 re 
 turn, 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. 
 
 It was about this period that, having one day been put to 
 the blush for my ignorance in the art of calculation, which I 
 nad twice failed to learn while at school, I took Cocker s Trea 
 tise of Arithmetic, and went through it myself with the ut 
 most ease. I also read a book of Navigation by Seller and 
 Sturmy, and made myself master of the little geometry it con 
 tains, but I never proceeded far in this science. Nearly at 
 the same time I read Locke on the Human Understanding, 
 and the Art of Thinking, by Messrs, du Port Royal. 
 
 While laboring 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 after I procured Xenophon s work, enti 
 tled, Memorable Things of Socrates, in which are various 
 examples of the same method. Charmed to a degree of en 
 thusiasm with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and re 
 nouncing blunt contradiction, and direct and positive argu 
 ment, I assumed the character of an humble questioner. Th 
 perusal of Shaftsbury and Collins had made me a sceptic ; 
 and being previously so as to many doctrines of Christianity, I 
 found Socrates method to be both the safest for myself, as well 
 asThe most embarrassing 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 per 
 sons of superior understanding, concessions of which they did 
 not foresee the consequence. Thus I involved them in diffi 
 culties from which they were unable to extricate themselves, 
 and sometimes obtained victories, which neither rov c*se 
 nor my arguments merited. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 19 
 
 This method I continued to employ for some years; but I 
 afterwards abandoned it by degrees, retaining only the habit 
 of expressing myself with modest diffidence, and never mak 
 ing use, when I advanced any proposition which might be 
 controverted, of the words certainly, undoubtedly, or any 
 others that might give the appearance of being obstinately at 
 tached to my opinion. I rather said, I imagine, I suppose, or 
 it appears 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 V i. e, when I 
 have had occasion to impress my opinion on the minds of 
 others, and persuade them to the adoption of the measures I 
 have suggested. And since the chief ends of conversation 
 are, to inform or to be informed, to please or to persuade, I 
 could wish that intelligent and well meaning men would not 
 themselves diminish the power 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 on man. 
 In short, if you wish to inform, a positive and dogmatical man 
 ner of advancing your opinion may provoke contradiction, and 
 prevent your being heard with attention. On the other hand, 
 if, with a desire of being informed, and of benefitting by the 
 knowledge of others, you express yourself as being strongly 
 attached to your own opinions, modest and sensible 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 auditors, conciliate their good-will, or 
 work conviction on those whom you may be desirous of gain 
 ing over to your views. Pope judiciously observes, 
 Men must be taught as if you taught them not, 
 And things unknown propos d as~things forgou 
 And in the same poem he afterward advises us, 
 
 To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence. 
 He might have added to these lines, one that he has cou 
 pled elsewhere, in my opinion, with less propriety. It is 
 this: 
 
 For want of modesty is want of sense. 
 
 If you ask why I say with less propriety , I must give you the 
 tw lines together : 
 
 Immodest words admit of no defence, 
 For want of decency is want of sense. 
 
20 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Now want of sense, when a man has the misfortune tobei 
 circumstanced, is it not an excuse for want of modesty ? And 
 would not the verses have been more accurate, if they had 
 been constructed thus : 
 
 Immodest words admit but this defence, 
 
 The 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 new public 
 paper. It was the second that made its appearance in Ame 
 rica, and was entitled the New England Courant. T 
 only one that existed before was the Boston News Letter. 
 Some o r his friends, 1 remember, would have dissuaded him 
 from his undertaking, as a thing that was not likely to suc 
 ceed ; a single newspaper being, in their opinion, sufficient 
 for all America. At present, however, in 1771, there are 
 no less than twenty-five. But he carried his project into ex 
 ecution, and I was employed in distributing the copies to his 
 customers, after having assisted in composing and working 
 them off. 
 
 Among his friends he had a number of literary characters, 
 who, as an amusement, wrote short essays for the paper, 
 which gave it reputation and increased the sale. These 
 gentlemen frequently came to our house. I heard the con 
 versation that passed, and the accounts they gave of the fa 
 vorable 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 usual to see him, who read it, 
 commented upon it within my hearing, and I had the exqui 
 site pleasure to find that it met with their approbation, and 
 that in their 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 sup 
 posed myself fortunate in my judges, and began to suspect 
 that they were not such excellent writers as I had hitherto 
 supposed them. Be this as it may, encouraged by this little 
 adventure, I wrote and sent to press, in the same way, many 
 other pieces, which were equally approved : keeping" the se 
 cret till my slender stock of information and knowledge for 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 21 
 
 such performances was pretty completely exhausted, when I 
 made myself known. 
 
 My brother, upon this discovery, began to entertain a little 
 more respect for me ; hut he still regarded himself as my 
 master, and treated me as an apprentice. He thought him 
 self entitled to the same services from me as from any other 
 person. On the contrary, I conceived that, in many in 
 stances, he was too rigorous, and that on the part of a bro 
 ther, I had a right to expect greater indulgence. Our dis 
 putes were frequently brought before my father ; and either 
 my brother was generally in the wrong, or I was the better 
 pleader of the two, for judgment was commonly given in my 
 favor. But my brother was passionate, and often had re 
 course 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 aversion to arbitrary 
 power, which, during my whole life, I have ever preserved. 
 My apprenticeship became insupportable to me, and I con 
 tinually sighed for an opportunity of shortening it, which at 
 length unexpectedly offered. 
 
 An article inserted in our paper, upon some political sub 
 ject which I have now forgotten, gave, offence to the Assem 
 bly. My brother was taken into custody, censured, and or 
 dered into confinement for a month, because as I presume^ 
 he would not discover the author. I was also taken up, and 
 examined before the council ; but, though I gave them no sa 
 tisfaction, they contented themselves with reprimanding, and 
 then dismissed me ; considering me probably as bound, in 
 quality of an apprentice, to keep my master s secrets. 
 
 The imprisonment of my brother kindled my resentment, 
 notwithstanding our private quarrels. During its continu 
 ance the management of the paper was intrusted to me, and 
 I was bold enough to insert some pasquinades against the 
 governors which highly pleased my brother, while others be 
 gan to look upon me in an unfavorable point of view, consider 
 ing me as a young wit inclined to satire and lampoon. 
 
 My brother s enlargement was accompanied with an arbi 
 trary order from the House of the Assembly, That James 
 Franklin should no longer print the newspaper entitled the 
 "New England Courant." In this conjuncture, we held a 
 consultation of our friends at the printing-house, in order to 
 determine what was 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 printed in the name 
 
22 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 jf Benjamin Franklin ; and, to avoid the censure of lae As. 
 sembly, who might charge him with still printing the paper 
 himself, under the name of his apprentice, it was resolved 
 Jiat mv old indentures should be given up to me with a full and 
 entire discharge written on the back, in order to be produced 
 upon an emergency : but that, to secure to my brother the 
 benefit of my service, I should sign a new contract, which 
 should be kept secret during the remainder of the term. Thi? 
 was a very shallow arrangement. It was, however, carried 
 into immediate execution, and the paper continued, in conse 
 quence, to make its appearance 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 dishonorable to avail myself of this circum 
 stance, 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 
 va lue, imbittered as my mind had been by the recollection of 
 the blows I had received. Exclusively 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 imperti 
 nence 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 elsewhere. 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 confirmed me in the design of leaving Bos- 
 ton, where I had already rendered myself an object of sus 
 picion to the governing party. It was probable from the ar 
 bitrary proceedings of the Assembly in the affair of my bro 
 ther, that, by remaining, I should soon have been exposed to 
 difficulties, which I h<Ii the greatest reason to apprehend, 
 as, from my indiscreet disputes upon the subject of religion, 
 I began to be regarded by pious souls with horror, either as 
 an apostate or an atheist. I came therefore to a resolution ; 
 but my father, siding with my brother, I presumed that if I 
 attempted to depart openly, measures would be taken to pre 
 vent me. My friend Collins undertook to favor my flight. 
 He agreed for rny passage with the captain of a New-York 
 sloop, to whom he represented me as a young man of his ac 
 quaintance, who had an affair with a girl of bad character, 
 whose parents wished to compel me to marry her, and oi 
 consequence I could neither make my appearance, nor go ofl 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 23 
 
 publicly. I sold part of my books to procure a small sum of 
 money, and went privately on board the sloop. By lavor ot 
 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 individual in the place 
 and with very little money in my pocket. 
 
 The inclination I had felt for a sea-faring life was entirely 
 subsided, or I should now have been able to gratify it; but 
 having another trade, and believing myself to be a tolerable 
 workman, I hesitated not to offer my services to the old Mr, 
 William Bradford, who had been the first printer in Pennsyl-. 
 vania, but had quitted the province on account of a quarre 
 with George Keith, the governor. He could not give me 
 employment 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 be 
 lieved that he would engage me. Philadelphia was a hun 
 dred miles farther. I hesitated 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 squallj which shattered to pieces our rotten sails, pre 
 vented 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 mo 
 ment that he was sinking, I seized him by the fore-top, saved 
 him, and drew him on board. This immersion sobered him 
 a tittle, so that he fell asleep, after having taken from his 
 pocket a volume which he requested me to dry. This vo 
 lume I found to be my old favorite work, Banyan s Pilgrim, 
 in Dutch, a beautiful impression on fine paper, with copper - 
 plate engravings ; 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 that has 
 had the greatest spread. Honest John is the first, that 1 
 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. Defoe has 
 imitated it with success in his Robinson Crusoe, his Moli 
 Flunders, and other works ; as also Richardson in his Pa 
 mela, &c. 
 
24 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 In approaching the island, we found that we had made a 
 part of the coast where it was not possible to land, on ac 
 count 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 call 
 ed 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 withdrew. Night 
 came on, and nothing remained for us but to wait quietly the 
 subsiding of the wind : till then, we determined, that is, the 
 pilot and I, to sleep if possible. For that purpose we went 
 below the hatches along with the Dutchman, who was drench 
 ed with water. The sea broke over the boat, and reached us 
 in our retreat, so that we were presently as completely 
 drenched as he. 
 
 We had very little repose during the whole night ; but the 
 wind abating the next day, we succeeded in reaching Amboy 
 before it was dark, after having passed thirty hours without 
 provision, and with no other drink than a bottle of bad rum, 
 the water upon which we rowed being salt. In the evening 
 I went to bed with a very violent fever. I had somewhere 
 read that cold water, drank plentifully, was a remedy in such 
 cases. I followed the prescription, was in a profuse sweat 
 for the greater part of the night, and the fever left me. The 
 next day I crossed the river in a ferry-boat, and continued my 
 journey on foot. I had fifty miles to walk, in order to reach 
 Burlington, where I was told I should find passage-boats 
 that would convey me to Philadelphia. It-gained hard the 
 whole day, so that I was wet to the skin. Finding myself 
 fatigued about noon, I stopped at a paltry inn, where I pass 
 ed the rest of the day and the whole night, beginning to re 
 gret that I had quitted my home. I made besides so wretched 
 a figure, that I was suspected to be some runaway servant. 
 This I discovered by the questions that were asked me; and 
 I felt that I was every moment in danger of being taken up 
 as such. The next day, however, I continued my journey, 
 and arrived in the evening at an inn, eight or ten miles from 
 Burlington, that was kept by one Dr. Brown. 
 
 This man entered into conversation with me while I took 
 some refreshment, and perceiving that I had read a little, he 
 expressed towards me considerable interest and friendship. 
 Our acqviaintance continued during the remainder of his life 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 21 
 
 I believe him to have been what is called an itinerant doctor ; 
 for there was no town in England, or indeed in Europe, of 
 which he could not give a particular account. He was nei 
 ther deficient in understanding or literature, but he was a sad 
 infidel : and, some years after, wickedly undertook to travesty 
 the Bible, in burlesque verse, as Cotton had travestied Vir 
 gil. He exhibited, by this means, many facts in a very lu 
 dicrous point of view, which would have given umbrage to 
 weak minds, had his work been published, which it never 
 was. 
 
 I spent the night at bis house, and reached Burlington the 
 next morning. On my arrival, I had the mortification to 
 learn that the ordinary passage-boats had sailed a litr.le be 
 fore. This was on a Saturday, and there would be no other 
 boat till the Tuesday following. I returned to tht> house of 
 an old woman in the town who had sold me some ginger 
 bread to eat on my passage, and I asked her advice. She 
 invited me to take up my abode with her till an opportunity 
 offered for me to embark. Fatigued with having tiavelled so 
 far on foot, I accepted her invitation. When she understood 
 that I was a printer, she would have persuaded me to stay 
 at Burlington, and set up my trade : but she was little aware 
 of the capital that would be necessary for such a purpose ! I 
 was treated while at her house with true hospitality. She 
 gave me } with the utmost good-will, a dinner of beef-steaks, 
 and W jald accept of nothing in return but a pint of ale. 
 
 Here I imagined myself to be fixed till the Tuesday in the 
 ensuing week ; but, walking out in the evening by the river 
 side, 1 saw a boat with a number of persons in it approach. 
 It was going to Philadelphia, and the company took me in. 
 As there was no wind, we could only make way with our 
 oars. About midnight, not perceiving the town, some of the 
 company were of opinion that we must have passed it, and 
 were unwilling to row any farther; the rest not knowing 
 where we were, it was resolved that we should stop. We 
 drew towards the shore, entered a creek, and landed near 
 some old palisades, which served us for fire-wood, it being a 
 cold night in October. Here we stayed till day, when one of 
 the co-npany found the place in which we were to be Coop 
 er s Creek, a little above Philadelphia ; which, in reality, we 
 perceived ihe moment we were out of the creek. We arrived 
 on Sunday about eight or nine o clock in the morning, and 
 anded on Market-street wharf. 
 
 I have entered into the particulars of my voyage, and 
 shall, in like manner, describe my first entrance into this city, 
 
26 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 that you may be able 1o compare beginnings so little auspi 
 cious, with the figure I have since maae. 
 
 On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my working dress, 
 my best clothes being to come by sea. I was covered with 
 dirt ; my pockets were filled with shirts and stockings ; I was 
 unacquainted with a single soul in the place, and knew not 
 where to seek for a lodging. Fatigued with walking, row 
 ing, and having passed the night without sleep, I was ex 
 tremely hungry, and all my money consisted of a Dutch dol 
 lar, and about a shilling s-worth of coppers, which I gave to 
 the boatmen for my passage. As I had assisted them in 
 rowing, they refused it at first ; but I insisted on their taking 
 it. A man is sometimes more generous when he has little, 
 than when he has much money ; probably because, in the first 
 case, he is desirous of concealing his poverty. 
 
 I walked towards the top of the street, looking eagerly on 
 both sides, till I came to Market-street, where I met with a 
 child with a loaf of bread. Often had I made my dinner on 
 dry bread. I inquired where he had bought it, and went 
 straight to the baker s shop which he pointed out to me. I 
 asked for some biscuits, expecting to find such as we had at 
 Boston ; but they made, it seems, none of that sort at Phila 
 delphia. I then asked for a three-penny loaf. They made 
 no loaves of that price. Finding myself ignorant of the prices, 
 as well as of the different kinds of bread, I desired him to let 
 me have three-pennyworth of bread of some kind or other. 
 He gave me three large rolls. I was surprised at receiving 
 so much : I took them, however, and having no room in my 
 pockets, I walked on with a roll under each arm, eating the 
 third. In this way I went through Market-street to Fourth- 
 street, and passed the house of Mr. Read, the father of my 
 future wife. She was standing at the door, observed rne, and 
 thought with reason, that I made a very singular and gro 
 tesque appearance. 
 
 I then turned the corner, and went through Chesnut-sfreet, 
 eating my roll all the way ; and having made this round, I 
 found myself again in Market-street wharf, near the boat in 
 which I arrived. I stept into it to take a draught of the river 
 water; and, finding myself satisfied with my first roll, I gave 
 .he other two to a woman and her child, who had come down 
 the river with us in the boat, and was waiting to continue her 
 journey. Thus refreshed, I regained the street, which was 
 now full of well-dressed people, all going the same way. I 
 joined them, and was thus led to a large Quaker s meeting- 
 ftouse near the market-place. I sat down with the rest, and, 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 27 
 
 after looking round for .some time, hearing nothing said, and, 
 oeing drowsy from my last night s labor and want of rest, 1 
 "ell into a sound sleep. In this state I continued till the as 
 sembly dispersed, when one of the congregation had the good 
 ness to wake me. This was consequently the first house I 
 entered, or in which I slept, at Philadelphia. 
 
 I began again to walk along the street by the river-side : 
 and, looking attentively in the face of every one I met with, 
 I at length perceived a young quaker whose countenance 
 pleased me. I accosted him, and begged him to inform me 
 where a stranger might find a lodging. We were then near 
 the sign of the Three Mariners. They receive travellers 
 here, said he, but it is not a house that bears a good charac 
 ter; if you will go with me, I will show you a better one. 
 He conducted me to the Crooked Billet, in Water-street. 
 There 1 ordered something for dinner, and, during my meal, 
 a. number of curious questions were put to me; my youth 
 and appearance exciting the suspicion of my being a runaway. 
 After dinner my drowsiness returned, and I threw myself 
 upon a bed, without taking off my clothes, and slept till six 
 o clock in the evening, when I was called to supper. I after 
 ward went to bed at a very early hour, and did not awake till 
 the next morning. 
 
 As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent a trim as I 
 could, and went to the house of Andrew Bradford, the printei. 
 I found his father in the shop, whom I had seen at New- 
 York. Having travelled on horseback, he had arrived at 
 Philadelphia before me. He introduced me to his son, who 
 received me with civility, and gave me some breakfast ; but 
 told me he had no occasion at present for a journeyman, hav 
 ing lately procured one. He added, that there was another 
 printer newly settled in the town, of the name of Keimer, 
 who might perhaps employ me ; and that in case of refusal, I 
 should be welcome to lodge at his house, and he would give 
 me a little work now and then, till something better should 
 offer. 
 
 The old man offered to introduce me to the new printer. 
 When we were at his house, Neighbor, said he, I bring 
 you a young man in the printing business ; perhaps you may 
 have need of his services. 
 
 Keimer asked me some questions, put a composing-stick 
 tn my hand to see how I could work, and then said, that at 
 present he had nothing for me to do, but that he should soon 
 be able to employ me. At the same time taking old Bradford 
 for an inhabitant of the town well-disposed towards him, he 
 
28 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 communicated his project to him, and the prospect he had of 
 success. Bradforu was careful not to discover that he was 
 the father of the other printer ; and from what Keimer had 
 eaid, that he hoped shortly to be in possession of the greater 
 part of the business of the town, led him, by artful questions, 
 and by starting some difficulties, to disclose all his views, 
 what his hopes were founded upon, and how he intended to 
 proceed. I was present, and heard it all. I instantly saw 
 that one of the two was a cunning old fox, and the other a 
 perfect novice. Bradford left me with Keimer, who was 
 strangely surprised when I informed him who the old man 
 was. 
 
 I found Keimer s printing materials to consist of an old da 
 maged press, and a small font of worn out English letters, 
 with which he himself was at work upon an elegy on Aquila 
 Rose, whom I have mentioned above, an ingenious young 
 man, and of an excellent character, highly esteemed in the 
 town, secretary to the Assembly, and a very tolerable poet. 
 Keimer also made verses, but they were indifferent ones. 
 He could not be said to write in verse, for his method was to 
 set the lines as they flowed from his muse ; and as he worked 
 without copy, had but one set of letter-cases, and the elegy 
 would probably occupy all his types, it was impossible 
 for any one to assist him. I endeavored to put his press in 
 order, which he had not yet used, and of which indeed he 
 understood nothing : and, having promised to come and work 
 off his elegy as soon as it shoufd be ready, I returned to the 
 house of Bradford, who gave me some trifle to do for the pre 
 sent, for which I had my board and lodf ng. 
 
 In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off his elegy. He 
 had now procured another set of letter-cases, and had a pam 
 phlet to re-print, upon which he set me to work. 
 
 The two Philadelphia printers appeared destitute of every 
 qualification necessary in their profession. Bradford had not 
 been brought up to it, and was very illiterate. Keimer, though 
 he understood a little of the business, was merely a composi 
 tor, and wholly incapable of working at press. He had been 
 one of the French prophets, and knew how to imitate their 
 supernatural agitations. At the time of our first acquaint 
 ance he professed no particular religion, but a little of all upon 
 occasion. He was totally ignorant of the world, and a great 
 knave at heart, as I had afterward an opportunity of experi 
 encing. 
 
 Keimer could not endure that, working with him, I should 
 lodge at Bradford s. He had indeed a house, but it was un- 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 28 
 
 furnished ; so that he could not take me in. He procured m 
 a lodging at Mr. Read s, his landlord, whom I have already 
 mentioned. My trunk and effects being now arrived, I thought 
 of making, in the eyes of Miss Read, a more respectable ap 
 pearance than when chance exhibited me to her view, eating 
 my roll, and wandering in the streets. 
 
 From this period I began to contract acquaintance with 
 such young people as were fond of reading, and spent my 
 evenings with them agreeably, while at the same time I gain 
 ed money by my industry, and, thanks to my frugality, lived 
 contented. I thus forgot Boston as much as possible, and 
 wished every one to be ignorant of the place of my residence, 
 except my friend Collins, to whom I wrote, and who kept my 
 secret. 
 
 An incident however arrived, which sent me home much 
 sooner than I had proposed. I had a brother-in-law, of the 
 name of Robert Holmes, master of a trading sloop from Bos 
 ton to Delaware. Beins at Newcastle, forty miles below 
 Philadelphia, he heard of me, and wrote to inform me of the 
 chagrin which my sudden departure from Boston had occa 
 sioned my parents, and of the affection which they still enter 
 tained for me, assuring me that, if I would return, every thing 
 should be adjusted to my satisfaction ; and he was very press 
 ing in his entreaties. I answered his letter, thanked him for 
 his advice, and explained the reasons which had induced me 
 to quit Boston, with such force and clearness, that he was 
 convinced I had been less to blame than he had imagined. 
 
 Sir William Keith, governor of the province, was at New 
 castle at the time. Captain Holmes, being by chance in his 
 company when he received mv letter, took occasion to speak 
 of me, and showed it him. The Governor read it, and ap 
 peared surprised when he learned mv age. He thought me, 
 he said, a young man of very promising talents, and that, of 
 consequence, I ought to be encouraged ; and here there were 
 at Philadelphia none but very ignorant printers, and that if 1 
 were to set up for myself, he had no doubt of my success; 
 that, for his own part, he would procure me all the public bu 
 siness, and would render me every other service in his power. 
 My brother-in-law related all this to me afterward at Boston 
 but I knew nothing of it at that time ; when one day Keimer 
 and I, being at work together near the window, we saw the 
 Governor and another gentleman, Colonel French, of New 
 castle, handsomely dressed, cross the street, and make di 
 rectly for our house. We heard them at the door, ar.-> Kei 
 mer, believing it to be a visit to himself, went immed:_iely 
 
30 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN, 
 
 down : but the Governor inqnired for me, came up stairs, and 
 with a condescension and politeness to which I had not at all 
 been accustomed, paid me many compliments, desired to be 
 acquainted with me, obligingly reproached me for not having 
 made myself known to him on my arrival in the town, ana 
 wished me to accompany him to a tavern, where he and Co- 
 lonel French were going to taste some excellent Madeira 
 wine. 
 
 I was, I confess, somewhat surprised, and Keimer appear 
 ed thunderstruck. I went, however, with the Governor and 
 Colonel to a tavern at the corner of Third-street, where, while 
 we were drinking the Madeira, he proposed to me to esta 
 blish a printing-house. He set forth the probabilities of suc 
 cess, and himself and Colonel French assured me that I 
 should have their protection and influence in obtaining the 
 printing of the public papers of both governments ; and as I 
 appeared 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 
 Dy 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 honor ; and I was 
 the more sensible of it, as he conversed with me in the most 
 affable, familiar, and friendly manner imaginable. 
 
 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 said many flattering things of me to my fa 
 ther ; and strongly recommended the project of my settling at 
 Philadelphia, as a thing which could not fail to make my for 
 tune. 
 
 Going down the bay we struck on a flat, and sprung a leak. 
 The weather was very tempestuous, and we were obliged to 
 pump without intermission ; I took my turn. We arrived, 
 however, safe and sound, at Boston, after about a fortnight s 
 passage. 
 
 I had been absent seven complete months, and my rela 
 tions, during that interval, had received no intelligence of me; 
 for my brother-in-law, Holmes, was not yet returned, and had 
 not written about me. My unexpected appearance suprised 
 the family ; but they were all delighted at seeing me again, 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 31 
 
 and, except my brother, welcomed mo home. I went to him 
 at the printing-house. I was better dressed than I had ever 
 been while in his service : T had a complete suit of clothes, 
 new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my purse was fur 
 nished with nearly five pounds sterling in money. He pave 
 me no very civil reception ; and, having eyed me from head 
 to foot, resumed his work. 
 
 The workmen asked me with eagerness where I had been, 
 what sort of a country it was, and how I liked it. I spoke in 
 the highest terms of Philadelphia, 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 brother continuing sul 
 len and out of humor, 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 desire to see us upon good terms, he told her that I had so 
 insulted him before his men, that he would never forget or 
 forgive it : in this, however, he was mistaken. 
 
 The Governor s letter appeared to excite in my father some 
 surprise ; but he said little. After some days, Captain Holmes 
 being returned, he showed it 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 favor of the scheme : but. my father 
 firmly maintained its absurdity, and at last gave a positive re 
 fusal. He wrote, however, a civil letter to Sir William, thank 
 ing 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 
 enterprise, and which would require so considerable a sum oi 
 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 collec 
 tion in mathematics and natural philosophy, to be conveyed 
 with mine to New-York, where he proposed to wait for me. 
 
 My father, though he could not approve Sir William s pro- 
 
3-2 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 posal, was yet pleased that I had obtained so advantageous 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 between my brother and me, he 
 consented to my return to Philadelphia, advised me to be ciyL 
 to every body, to endeavor to obtain general esteem, and avoid 
 satire and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too much in 
 clined ; adding, that with perseverance and prudent economy, 
 I might, by the time I became of age, save enough to esta 
 blish myself in business ; and that if a small sum should then 
 be wanting, he would undertake to supply it. 
 
 This was ail I could obtain from him, except some trifling 
 presents, in token of friendship from him and rny mother. I 
 embarked once more for New- York, furnished at. this time 
 with their approbation and blessing. The sloop having touch 
 ed at Newport, in Rhode Island, I 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 he re 
 ceived me with great aifection. 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 hinij 
 and to keep the money till I should hear from him : accord 
 ingly he gave me an order for that purpose. This affair oc 
 casioned me, iu the sequel, much uneasiness. 
 
 At Newport we took on board a number of passengers ; 
 among whom were two young women, and a grave and sen 
 sible quaker lady with her servants. I had shown an oblig 
 ing forwardness in rendering the quaker some trifling services, 
 which led her, probably, to feel an interest in my welfare ; 
 for when she saw a familiarity take place, and every day in 
 crease, between the two young women 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 seemest 
 to be ignorant of the world, and the snares to which youth is 
 exposed. Rely upon what I tell thee : those are women 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 preservation, to form no connexion with them. 
 As I appeared at first not to think quite s6 ill of them as she 
 did, she related many things she had seen and heard, which 
 had escaped my attention, but which convinced rne that she 
 was in the right. I thanked her for her obliging advice, and 
 promised to follow it. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. S3 
 
 When we arrived at New- York, they informed me where 
 they lodged, and invited me to csme 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 wo 
 men to be prostitutes, procured a search-warrant, found the 
 stolen goods upon them, and had them punished. And thus, 
 after having been saved from one rock concealed under wa 
 ter, upon which the vessel struck during our passage, I es 
 caped another of a still more dangerous nature. 
 
 At New- York I found my friend Collins, who had arrived 
 some time before. We had been intimate from our infancy, 
 and had read the same books together ; but he had the advan 
 tage of being 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, I had been accus 
 tomed to pass with him almost all my leisure 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 absence, 
 he had unfortunately addicted himself to brandy, and I learn 
 ed, as well from himself as from the report of others, thax. 
 every day since his arrival at New- York he had been intoxi 
 cated, and had acted in a very extravagant 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 his journey : a burden that was very inconvenient to 
 me. 
 
 The Governor of New- York, whose name was Bernet, 
 hearing the Captain say, that a young man who was a pas 
 senger 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. The Go 
 vernor treated me with great civility, showed me his library, 
 which was a very considerable one, and we talked for some 
 time upon books and authors. This was the second gover 
 nor who had honored me with his attention ; and, to a poor 
 boy, as I was then, these little adventures did not fail to be 
 pleasing. 
 
 We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I received Ver- 
 non 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 betrayed his bad 
 habit ; for, though he had recommendations, he met with no 
 
M ^ LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 1 
 
 success, and continued to lodge and eat with me, and at my 
 expense. Knowing that I had Vernon s money, he was con 
 tinually asking me to lend him some of it ; promising to repay 
 me as soon as he should 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 
 deficiency. His habit of drinking did not at all diminish, and 
 was a frequent source of discord between us ;j tor when he 
 had drank a little too much, he was very headstrong. 
 
 Being one day in a boat together, on the Delaware, with 
 ome other young persons, he refused to take his turn in row- 
 jig. You shall row for me, said he, till we get home. 
 1 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 signi 
 fies 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 up by the collar, gave him 
 a violent thrust, and threw him head foremost into the river. 
 I knew that he was a good swimmer, and was therefore un 
 der no apprehensions for his life. Before he could turn him 
 self, we were able, by a lew strokes of our oars, to place our 
 selves out of his reach; and, whenever he touched the boat, 
 we asked him if he would row, striking liis hands at the same 
 time with the oars to make him let go his hold. He was near 
 ly suffocated with rage, but obstinately refused making any 
 promise to row. Perceiving, at length, that his strengtu be 
 gan to be exhausted, we took him into the boat, and convey 
 ed him home in the evening completely drenched. The ut 
 most coldness subsisted between us after this adventure. At 
 last the captain of a West India ship, who was commission 
 ed to procure a tutor for the children of a gentleman at Bar- 
 badoes, meeting with Collins, offered him the place. He ac 
 cepted it, and took 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 Vernon, was 
 one of the first great errors of my life ; and it proves that 
 nay father was not mistaken when he supposed me too young 
 to be entrusted with the management of important affairs. 
 But Sir William, upon reading his letter, thought him too 
 prudent. There was a difference, he said, between indivi 
 duals : years of maturity were not always accompanied with 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 25 
 
 discretion, neither was youth in every instauce devoid of it 
 Since your father, added he, will not set you up in busi 
 ness, I will do it myself. Make out a list of what will be 
 wanted from England, and I will send for the ai tides. 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 cordiality, 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 business, a secret at Philadelphia, 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 doubtless have advised me not to trust him ; 
 for I afterward learned that he was universally known to be 
 liberal of promises, when he had no intention to perform. 
 But having never solicited him, how could I suppose his of 
 fers to be deceitful ? On the contrary, I believed him to be 
 the best man in the world. 
 
 I gave him an inventory of a small printing-office ; the ex 
 pense of which I had calculated at about a hundred pounda 
 sterling. He expressed his approbation ; but asked, if my 
 presence in England, that I might choose the characters my 
 self, and see that every article was good in its kind, would 
 not be an advantage? You will also be able, said he, to 
 form some acquaintance there, and establish a correspon 
 dence with stationers and booksellers. This I acknowledge 
 ed was desirable. That being the case, added he, hold 
 yourself in readiness to go with the Annis. This was the 
 annual vessel, and the only one at that time which made re 
 gular voyages between the ports of London and Philadelphia. 
 But the Annis was not to sail for some months. I therefore 
 continued to work with Keimer, unhappy respecting the sura 
 which Collins had drawn from me, and almost in continual 
 agony at the thoughts of Vernon, who fortunately made no 
 demand of his money till several years after. 
 
 In the account of my first voyage from Boston to Phila 
 delphia, I omitted, I believe, a trifling circumstance, which 
 will not, perhaps, be out of place here. During a calm, which 
 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 possessed life ; and I considered, on this occasion, 
 agreeably to the maxims of my master Tyron, the capture of 
 every fish as a sort of murder, committed without provoca 
 tion, since these animals had neither done, nor were capa- 
 
36 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 ble of doing, the smallest injury to any one that should justify 
 the measure. This mode of reasoning 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 flavor delicious. I hesitated 
 some time between principle and inclination, till at last re 
 collecting, 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 ac 
 cordingly dined on the cod with no small degree of pleasure, 
 and have since continued to eat like the rest of mankind, re 
 turning only occasionally to my vegetable plan. How con 
 venient does it prove to be a rational animal, that knows how 
 to find or invent a plausible pretext for whatever it has an in 
 clination to do. 
 
 I contrived to live upon good terms with Keimer, who had 
 not the smallest suspicion of my projected establishment. 
 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 using my Socratic method, and 
 had so frequently puzzled him by my questions,which appeared 
 at first very distant from the point in debate, yet, never 
 theless, led to it by degrees, involving him in difficulties and 
 contradictions 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 with 
 out previously asking me What would you infer from lhat ? 
 Hence he formed so high an opinion of my talents for refuta 
 tion, that he seriously proposed to me to become his col 
 league in the establishment of a new religious sect. He 
 was to propagate the doctrine by preaching, and I to refute 
 every opponent. 
 
 When he explained to me his tenets, I found my absurdi 
 ties, which I refused to admit, unless he would agree in turn 
 to adopt some of my opinions. Keimer wore his beard long, 
 because Mjses had somewhere said, Thou shalt not mar 
 the corners of thy beard. He likewise observed the Sab- 
 tath ; and these were with him two very essential points. I 
 disliked them both; but I consented to adopt them, provided 
 he would a Tee to abstain from animal food. I doubt. said 
 he, whether my constitution will be able to support it. I 
 assured him, on the contrary, lhat he would rind himself the 
 better for it. He was naturally a glutton, and 1 wished to 
 amuse myself by starving him. He consented to make trial 
 <f this regimen, if I would bear him company ; and, in re- 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 37 
 
 ality, we continued it for three months. A woman in the 
 neighborhood prepared 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 expense of our living did not exceed for each eigiu- 
 een pence a week 
 
 I have since that period observed several Lents with tk 
 greatest strictness, and have suddenly returned again to my 
 ordinary diet, without experiencing the smallest inconveni 
 ence ; which has led me to regard as of no importance the 
 advice commonly given, of introducing gradually such altera 
 tions of regimen. 
 
 I continued it cheerfully ; but poor Keimer suffered terri 
 bly. Tired of the project, he sighed for the flesh pots ol 
 Egypt. At length he ordered a roast pig, ana invited me 
 and two of our female acquaintances to dine with him ; but 
 the pig being ready a little too so^n he could not resist the 
 temptation, and eat it all up before we arrived. 
 
 During the circumstances I have related, 1 had paid some 
 attention to Miss Read. I entertained for her the utmost 
 esteem and aifection ; 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 poin* 
 of undertaking a long voyage, her mother thought it prudent 
 to prevent matters been carried too far for the present, 
 judging that, if marriage was our object, there would be 
 more propriety in it after my return, when, as at least I ex 
 pected, I should be established in my business. Perhaps 
 also she thought that my expectations were riot so well 
 founded as I imagined. 
 
 My most intimate acquaintance at this time were Charles 
 Osborne, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph ; young men 
 who were all fund of reading. The two first weri clerks to 
 Mr. Charles Brockdon, one of the principal attorneys in the 
 town, and the other clerk to a merchant. Watson was an 
 upright, pious, and sensible young man : the others were 
 somewhat more loose in their principles of religion, particu 
 larly Ralph, whose faith, as well as that of Collins, I had 
 contributed to shake : each of whom made me suffer a very 
 adequate punishment. Osborne was sensible, and sincere 
 nd affectionate in his friendships, but too much inclined to 
 .le critic in matters of literature. Ralph was ingenuous and 
 hrewd, genteel in his address, and extremely eloquent. I 
 
 not i ^member to have met with a more agreeable speakei, 
 
.? 38 LiFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 They were both enamouredV>f the muses, and had already 
 -"evinced their passion by some small poetical productions. 
 
 It was a custom with us to take a charming walk on Sun 
 days, in the woods that border the Skuylkil. Here we read 
 together, and afterward conversed on what we read. Ralph 
 was disposed to give himself up entirely to poetry. He flat 
 tered himself that he should arrive at great eminence in the 
 art, and even acquire a fortune. The sublimest poets, he 
 pretended, when they first began to write, committed as many 
 faults as himself. Osborne endeavored to dissuade him, 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 employed as a factor ; and may thus, in 
 time acquire the means of setting up for yourself. I concur 
 red in these sentiments, but at the same time expressed my 
 approbation 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 composition. Our object 
 in this competition was to benefit each other by our mutual 
 remarks, criticisms, and corrections ; and as style and ex 
 pression were all we had in view, we excluded every idea of 
 invention, by agreeing that our task should be a verse of the 
 eighteenth 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 that his performance was ready. I in 
 formed him that I had been idle, and, not much liking the 
 task, had done nothing. He showed me his piece, arid ask 
 ed me what I thought of it. I expressed myself in terms of 
 warm approbation; because it really appeared to have con 
 siderable merit. He then said, Osborne will never acknow 
 ledge the smallest degree of excellence in any production of 
 mine. Envy alone dictates to him a thousand animadver 
 sions. Of you he is 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 rnajiy faults. We next 
 read Osborne s, which was much better. Ralph did it jus- 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 39 
 
 tic, remarking a few imperfections, and applauding such . 
 parts as were excellent. He had himself nothing to show. It 
 was now my turn. I made some difficulty ; seemed as if I 
 wished to be excused ; pretended that I had no time to make 
 corrections, &c. No excuse, however, was admissible, and 
 the piece must be produced, ft 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 defended my text. Os 
 borne agreed with me, and told Ralph that 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 favor of what he considered as my per 
 formance. He pretended that he had put some restraint on 
 himself before, apprehensive of my construing his commen 
 dations into flattery. But who would have supposed, said 
 he, Franklin to be capable of such a composition? What 
 painting, what energy, what tire ! He has surpassed the ori 
 ginal. In his common conversation he appears not to have 
 a 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 be 
 coming a poet. I left nothing unattempted to divert him from 
 nis purpose : but he persevered, till at last the reading of 
 Pope* effected his cure : he became, however, a very toler 
 able prose writer. I shall speak more of him hereafter; but 
 as I shall probably have no farther occasion to mention tho 
 other two, I ought to observe here, that Watson died a few 
 years after in mv 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 seriously 
 engaged, that whoever died first should return, if possible, 
 and pay a friendly visit to the survivor, to give him an ac 
 count of the other world ; but he has never fulfilled his en 
 gagement. 
 
 The Governor appeared to be fond of my company, and 
 frequently invited me to his house. He always spoke o-t 
 
 * 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 ! 
 
40 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 his intention of settling ine in business as a point that was de 
 cided. I was to take with me Letters ot" recommendation to 
 a number of his friends ; and particularly 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 William s house, 
 to receive my letters and fake leave of him. I saw his se 
 cretary, Dr. Bard, who told me, that the Governor was ex 
 tremely busy wriling, but that he would be down at Newcas 
 tle before the vessel, and that the letters would be delivered 
 to me there. 
 
 Ralph, though he was married and had a child, determined 
 to accompany me in this voyage. His object was supposed 
 to be the establishing a correspondence wilh some mercantile 
 houses, in order to sell goods by commission ; but I afterward 
 learned that, having reason to be dissatisfied with the parents 
 of his wife, he proposed to himself to leave her on their 
 hands, and never return to America again. 
 
 Having taken leave of my friends, and interchanged pro 
 mises of fidelity with Miss Read, I quitted Philadelphia. At 
 Newcastle the vessel came 10 anchor. The Governor was 
 arrived, and i 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 importance, 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 astonish 
 ed, 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 arid his son, and in 
 conjunction with Mr. Denham, aquaker, 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 of the common order of 
 people: but Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James, who 
 was afierward governor) left us at Newcastle, and returned 
 to Philadelphia, where he was recalled at a very great ex 
 pense, to plead the cause of a vessel that had been seized ; 
 and just as we were about to sail, Colonel French came on 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 41 
 
 bonrd, and shewed 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 despatches of the Governor had 
 been brought on board by Colonel French, I asked the cap 
 tain for the letters that were to be entrusted to my care. He 
 told me that they were all put together in the bag, which ht 
 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 advan 
 tage of the whole of Mr. Hamilton s, who had laid in a very 
 plentiful stock. During the passage, Mr. Denham contract 
 ed a friendship for me, which ended only with his life : in other 
 Aspects 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 in the bag for the Gover 
 nor 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 I judged from the direction to be those that 
 we*e intended for me ; particularly one to Mr. Basket, the 
 king s printer, and another to a stationer, who was the first 
 person I called npon. I delivered him the letter as coming 
 from Governor Keith. I have no acquaintance, said he, 
 1 with any such person ; and opening the letter Oh it is from 
 Riddlesden ! he exclaimed. I have lately discovered him 
 to be a very arrant knave, and wish to have nothing to do 
 either with him or his letters. He instantly put the hitter 
 into my hand, turned upon his heel, and left me to serve some 
 customers. 
 
 I was astonished at finding these letters were not from the 
 Governor. Reflecting, and putting circumstances 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 character, 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 himself. As 
 I showed some uneasiness respecting what step I should 
 take, he advised me to try to get employment in the house of 
 
42 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIIV 
 
 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 Rid- 
 dlesden to be a knave. He had nearly ruined the father of 
 Mi -is Read, by drawing him Jr. to be his security. We 
 learned from his letter, that, he was secretly carrying on an 
 intrigue, in concert with the Governor, 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 informa 
 tion it contained being of consequence to him ; and from that 
 moment bestowed on me his friendship, which afterward 
 proved, on many occasions 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 practice with 
 him. Wishing to please every body, and having little to be 
 stow, he was lavish of promises. He was, in other respects, 
 t sensible and judicious, a very tolerable 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 adminis 
 tration. 
 
 Ralph and I were inseparable companions. We 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 riot able to assist him. He 
 now, for the first time, informed me of his intention to re 
 main in England, and that he had no thoughts of ever return 
 ing to Philadelphia. He was totally without money ; the 
 little he had been able 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 impossi 
 ble he should succeed. He next proposed to Roberts, a 
 bookseller in Paternoster-row, to write a weekly paper in the 
 manner of the Spectator, upon terms to which Roberts would 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 43 
 
 not listen. Lastly, he endeavored to procure employment as 
 h copyist, and applied to the lawyers and stationers about 
 the Temple, but he could find no vacancy. 
 
 As to myself, I immediately got engaged at Palmer s, at 
 that time a noted printer in Bar Jiolomew-close, with whom 
 I continued nearly a year. I applied very assiduously to my 
 work , but I expended with Ralph almost all that I earned". 
 Plays, and other places of amusement which we frequented 
 together, having exhaused 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 engage 
 ments with Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one 
 letter, and that merely to inform her that 1 was not likely to 
 return soon. This was another grand error of my life, whi< h 
 I should be desirous of correcting were I to begin my career 
 again. 
 
 t was emloyed at Palme s on the second edition of W o - 
 aston s Religion of Nature. Some of his arguments appear 
 ing to me not to be well-founded, I wrote a small metaphy 
 sical treatise, in which I animadverted on those passages. 
 It was entitled a Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, 
 Pleasure and Pain. I dedicated it to my friend Ralph, 
 arid printed a small number of copies. Palmer upon this 
 treated me with more consideration, and regarded me as a 
 young man of talents; though he seriously took me to task 
 for the principles of my pamphlet, which he looked upon as 
 abominable. The printing of this work was another error of 
 my life. 
 
 While I lodged in Little Britain I formed an acquaintance 
 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 
 advantage; and I derived from it as much benefit as was in 
 my power. 
 
 My pamphlet falling into the hands of a surgeon, of the 
 name of Lvons, author of a book entitled, Infallibility of Hu 
 man Judgment, was the occasion of a considerable intimacy, 
 between us. He expressed great esteem for me, came fre 
 quently to see me, in order to converse upon metaphysical 
 " bigots, and introduced me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the 
 FabtapfdM Bees, who had instituted a club at a tavern in 
 
44 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Cheapskle, of which he was the soul : he was a facetious and 
 very amusing cnaracter. He also introduced me, at Bat- 
 son s coffee-houDtj Jo 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 America ; the 
 principal of which was a purse made of the asbestos, which 
 fire only purifies. Sir Hans Sloane hearing of it, called up 
 on 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 handsomely. 
 
 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 an education some 
 what above her rank, her conversation was very agreeable. 
 Ralph read plays to her every evening. They became inti 
 mate. She took another lodging, and he followed her. They 
 lived for some time together; but Ralph being without em 
 ployment, she having a child, and the profits of her business 
 not sufficing for the maintenance of three, he resolved to 
 quit London, and try a country-school. This was a plan in 
 which he thought himself likely to succeed ; as he wrote a 
 fine hand, and was versed in arithmetic and accounts. But 
 considering the office as beneath 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 profes 
 sion so little honorable, he changed his name, and did me the 
 honor of assuming mine. He wrote to me soon after his de 
 parture, informing me that he was settled at a small village 
 in Berkshire. In his letter he recommended Mrs. T. the 
 milliner, to my care, and requested an answer, directed to 
 Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster, at N***. 
 
 He continued to write to me frequently, sending me large 
 ragments of an Epic poem he was composing, and which 
 e requested me to criticise and correct. I did so, but not 
 without endeavoring to prevail on him to renounce this pur 
 suit. Young had just published one of his Satires. I copied 
 and sent him a great part of it ; in which the author demon 
 strates the folly of cultivating the Muses, from the hope, 
 by their instrumentality, of rising in the world. It was ail to 
 no purpose ; paper after paper of his poem continued to ar 
 rive every post. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. T*** having lost, on his account, both 
 her friends and business, was frequently in distress. In this 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 45 
 
 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 fondness for her. Having at that time no 
 ties of religion, and, taking advantage of her necessitous situ 
 ation, I attempted liberties (another error of my life), which 
 she 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 that he considered all the obligations he owed mt 
 as annihilated by this proceeding; whence-I concluded that 
 1 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 wholly unable to pay me ; and as, by losing 
 his friendship, I was relieved at the same time frc/m a very 
 heavy burden. 
 
 I now began to think of laying by some money. The 
 printing-house of Watts, near Lincoln s-inn-fields, being a 
 still more considerable one than that in which I worked, it 
 was probable I might find it more advantageous to be emplov- 
 ed there. I offered myself, and was accepted ; and in this 
 house I continued during the remainder of my stay in 
 London. 
 
 On my entrance I worked first as a pressman, conceiving 
 I had need of bodily exercise, to which I had been accus 
 tomed 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 let 
 ters in each hand, up and down stairs, while the rest employ 
 ed both hands to carry one. They were surprised to see, by 
 this and many other examples, lhat the American Aquatic, as 
 they used to call me, was stronger than those who drank 
 porter. The beer-boy had sufficient employment during 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 a<rain about six o clock in the after 
 noon, and another after he had finished his day s work. This 
 custom appeared to me abominable ; but he had need, he 
 said, of all this beer in order to acquire strength to work. 
 
 I endeavored to convince him that the bodily strength fur 
 nished by the beer, could only be in proportion to the 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 consequently if he ate this loaf, and 
 
46 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 drauk a pint of water with it, he would derive more strength 
 from it than from a pint of beef. This reasoning, however, 
 did not prevent him from drinking his accustomed quantity ot 
 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 compositor, 1 quitted the press. The com 
 positors demanded of me garnish-money afresh. This I con 
 sidered as an imposition, naving already paid below. The 
 master was of the same opinion, and desired me not to com 
 ply. I thus remained two or three weeks out of the frtterm- 
 ty, I was consequently looked upon as excommunicated ; and 
 whenever I was absent, no little trick that malice could sug 
 gest was left unpractised upon mo. I found my tetters mix 
 ed, my pages transposed, my matter broken, &c. &c. all of 
 which was attributed to the spirit that haunted the chapel,* 
 and tormented those that were not regularly admitted. I wa3 
 at last obliged to submit to pay, notwithstanding the protection 
 of the master ; 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- 
 laborers, and soon acquired considerable influence among 
 them. I proposed some alteration in the laws of the chapel, 
 which I carried without opposition. My example prevailed 
 with several of them to renounce their abominable practice of 
 bread and cheese with beer ; and they procured, like me, 
 from a neighboring house, a good basin of warm gruel, 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 beer, namely, three-halfpence, 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 ; their 
 light, as they used to call it, being out. I attended at the 
 pay-table every Saturday evening, to take up the little sum 
 which I made myself answeraide for ; and which sometimes 
 amounted to nearly thirty shillings a week. 
 
 * Printing-houses in general are thus denominated by the 
 workmen ; the spirit they call by the name of Ralph. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 47 
 
 This circumstnnce, added to my reputation of being a 
 
 tolerable good gabber, or, in other words, skilful in the art of 
 
 jurlesque, kept up my importance in the chapel. I had 
 
 ;side recommended myself to the esteem of my master by 
 
 ly assiduous application to business, never observing Saint 
 
 vionday. My extraordinary 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 printingw 
 house, I took another in Duke-street, opposite the Roman 
 Catholic Chapel. It was at the back of an Italian warehouse. 
 The hnmse 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 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 
 should derive, as they were all women, from having a man 
 lodger 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 converted 
 her to the Catholic religion. She had lived in habits of inti 
 macy 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 sometimes disposed to see company. Hers 
 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 apiece, upon a slice of bread and 
 butter, with half a pint of ale between us. But the entertain 
 ment was in her conversation. 
 
 The early hours I kept, and the little trouble I occasioned 
 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 ol 
 saving, she persuaded me to give it up, making herself an 
 abatement 01 two shillings : and thus I continued to lodge with 
 her, during the remainder of my abode in London, at eighteen 
 pence a week. 
 
 In a garret of the house, there lived, in a most retired, 
 manner, a lady seventy years of age, of whom I received the 
 following account from my landlady. She was a Romaa 
 Catholic. In her early years she had been sent to the 003* 
 
48 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 tiiient, and entered a convent with the design of becoming a 
 nun : but the climate not agreeing with her constitution, she 
 was obliged to return to England, where, as there were 
 no monasteries, she made a vow to lead a monastic life, in 
 as rigid a manner as circumstances would permit. She 
 accordingly disposed of all her property to be applied to 
 charitable 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 rent to the successive Catholic inhabitants that had 
 kept the house ; who indeed considered her abode with them 
 as a blessing. A priest carne 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 ? Tc 
 which she answered, that it was impossible to avoid vain 
 thoughts. 
 
 I was once permitted to visit her. She was cheerful and 
 polite, and her conversation agreeable. Her apartment wag 
 neat ; but the whole furniture consisted of a mattress, a table 
 on which was a crucifix and a book, and a chair, which she 
 pave me to sit on, and over the mantelpiece a picture of St. 
 Veronica displaying her handkerchief, on which was seen the 
 miraculous impression of the face of Chrst, which she ex 
 plained to me with great gravity. Her countenance was pale, 
 but she had never experienced sickness ; and I may adduce 
 her as another proof how little is sufficient to maintain life and 
 health. 
 
 At the printing-house I contracted an intimacy with a sen 
 sible 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 river ; after which they stood in need of 
 no farther assistance. We one day made a party to go by 
 water to Cheisea, in order to see the college, and Don Sal- 
 tero 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 address, both upon the sur 
 face of the water as well as under it. Tliis sight occasioned 
 much astonishment and pleasure to those to whom it was new. 
 In my youth I took great delight in this exercise. I knew 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 49 
 
 and could execute, all the evolutions and positions of The- 
 venot ; and I added to them some of my own invention, in 
 which I endeavored to unite gracefulness and utility. I took 
 a pleasure in displaying them all on this occasion, and was 
 highly flattered with the admiration they excited. 
 
 Wygate, besides his being desirous of perfecting himself in 
 this art, was the more attached to me from there being, in 
 <^ther respects, a conformity in our tastes and studies. He at 
 length 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 men 
 tioned it to my friend, Mr. Denham, with whom I was glad 
 to pass an hour whenever I had leisure. He dissuaded me 
 from the project, and advised me to think of returning to 
 Philadelphia, which he was about to do himself. I must relate 
 in this prace a trait of this worthy man s character. 
 
 He had formerly been in business at Bristol, but failing, he 
 compounded with his creditors, and departed for America, 
 where, by assiduous application as a merchant, he acquired 
 in a few years a very considerable fortune. Returning to 
 England in the same vessel with myself, as I have related 
 above, he invited all his old creditors to a feast. When 
 assembled, he thanked them for the readiness with which they 
 had received 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 that it was his intention to carry back with him 
 to Philadelphia a great quantity of goods in order to open a 
 store ; and he offered to take me with him in the capacity of 
 clerk, to keep nis books, in which he would instruct me, copy 
 letters, and superintend the store. He added, that as soon 
 as I had acquired a knowledge of mercantile transactions, ho 
 would improve my situation, by sending me with a cargo ol 
 corn and flour to the American islands, and by procuring me 
 other lucrative commissions ; so that, with good management 
 and economy, I might in lime begin business with advantage 
 for myself. 
 
 I relished these proposals. Lonoon began to tire me ; the 
 agreeable hours I had passed at Philadelphia presented them 
 selves to my mind, and I wished to see them revive. I con 
 sequently 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 had a much fairer prospect. I took 
 leave, therefore, as I believed for ever, of printing, and gave 
 
60 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 myself up to my new occupation, spending all my time either 
 in going from house to house with Mr. Denham to purchase 
 goods, or in packing them up, or in expediting the workmen, 
 &c. &c. When every thing, however, was on 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. 
 1 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 Wygateand 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 instruct them. They were 
 not yet arrived in town, and the stay I should make was 
 uncertain; I could not therefore accept his proposal. I was 
 led, however, to suppose from this incident, that if I had 
 wished to remain in London, and open a swimming school. I 
 should perhaps have gained a great deal of money. The idea 
 struck me so forcibly, that, had the offer been made sooner, 
 I should have dismissed the thought of returning as yet to 
 America. Some years after, you and I had a more important 
 business to settle with ofie of the sons of Sir William Wynd 
 ham, then Lord Egremont. But let us not anticipate events. 
 
 I thus passed about eighteen months in London, working 
 almost without intermission at my trade, avoiding all expense 
 on my own account, except going now and then to the play, 
 and purchasing a few books. But my friend Ralph kepi me 
 poor. He owed me about twenty-seven pounds, which was 
 so much money lost ; and when considered as taken from my 
 little savings, was a very great sum. I had, notwithstanding 
 this, a regard for him, as he possessed many amiable qualities. 
 But though I had done nothing for 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 arid 
 literary persons with whom I was acquainted. 
 
 We sailed from Gravesend on the 23d of July, 1726. For 
 the incidents of my voyage I refer you to my Journal, where 
 you will find all its circumstances minutely related. We 
 landed at Philadelphia on the llth of the following October. 
 
 Keith had been deprived of his office of governor, and was 
 succeeded by Major Gordon. I met him walking 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 meeting 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 51 
 
 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 Rogers ; 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 
 parents ; but he was as bad a subject as he was excellent as 
 a workman. He involved himself in debt, and fled, in the 
 vear 1727 or 1728, to the West Indies, where he died. 
 
 During my absence, Keimer had taken a more considerable 
 house, in which he kept a shop, that was well supplied wuh 
 paper and various other articles. He had procured some new 
 types, and a number of workmen ; among whom, however, 
 there was not one who was good for anything; and he 
 appeared not to want business. 
 
 Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water-street, where we 
 exhibited our commodities. I applied myself dost-lv, studied 
 accounts, and became in a short time very expert in trade. 
 We lodged and ate together. He was sincerely attached to 
 me, and acted towards me as if he had been my father. On 
 my side, I respected and loved him. My situation was happy , 
 but it was a happiness of no long duration. 
 
 Early in February, 1727, when I entered into my 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 
 regretted that I had still to experience, sooner or later, the 
 same disagreeable scene again. 
 
 I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham s disorder ; but it 
 was a tedious one, and he at last sunk r.ider 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 warehouse being confided to the care of his testamentary 
 executor, who dismissed me. 
 
 My brother-in-law, Holmes, who happened to be at Phila 
 delphia, advised me to return to my former profession ; and 
 Keimer offered me a very considerable salary if I would 
 undertake the management of his printing-office, that he might 
 devote himself entirely to the superintendence of his shop, 
 His wife and relations in London had given me a bad charac 
 ter of him ; and I was loath, for the present, to haVe any con 
 cern with him. I endeavored to get employment as a clerk 
 
52 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 to a merchant ; but not readily finding a situation, I was 
 induced to accept Keimer s proposal. 
 
 The following were the persons I found in his printing- 
 house. 
 
 Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thirty-five years 
 of aire. 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 schooi. and 
 of rustic education, with endowments rather above the common 
 order, and a competent portion of understanding and gayety ; 
 but a little idle. Keimer had engaged these two at very low 
 wasres, which he had promised to raise every three months a 
 shilling a week, provided their improvement in the typo 
 graphic art should merit it. This future increase of wapes 
 was the bait he had made use of to ensnare them. Meredith 
 was to work at the press, and Potts to 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 com 
 positor. I shall sneak more of him presently. 
 
 Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was apprentice*! 
 to him. 
 
 I ? - n perceived that Keimer s intention, in engaging,me at 
 n ) , . .-o much above what he was accustomed 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 ena 
 ble him to do without me. I nevertheless adhered to iny 
 agreement. 1 put the office in order, which was in the 
 utmost confusion, and brought his people, by degrees, to pay 
 attention to their work, and to execute it in a more masterly 
 style. 
 
 It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the condition of 
 a purchased servant. He was not more than eighteen years 
 of age ; and the following are the particulars 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 superior siyle of acting, when they represented 
 dramatic performances. He was a member of a literary club 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 63 
 
 in .he town ; and some pieces of his composition, in prose 
 an well as in verse, had been inserted in the Gloucester 
 papers. From hence he was sent to Oxford, where he re 
 mained about a year : but he was not contenteU, and wished 
 above all things to see London, and become an actor. At 
 length, having received fifteen guineas to pay his quarter s 
 board, he decamped with the money from Oxford, hid his 
 pc wu in a hedge, and travelled to London. There, having no 
 friend to duect him, he fell into bad company, soon squandered 
 his fifteen guineas, could find no 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, 
 almost famished with hunger, arid not knowing what to do, a 
 recruiting bill was put into his hands, which offered an imme 
 diate treat and bounty-money to whoever was disposed to 
 serve in America. He instantly repaired to the house of 
 rendezvous, enlisted himself, was put on board a ship, and 
 conveyed to America, without ever writing a line to inform 
 his parents what was become of him. His mental vivacity, 
 and good natural disposition, made him an excellent com 
 panion; but he was indolent, thoughtless, and to the last 
 degree imprudent. 
 
 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 Keimer incapable of instructing them, and 
 as they learned something from me every day. We never 
 worked on a Saturday, it being Keimer s sabbath : so that I 
 had two days a week for reading. 
 
 I increased my acquaintance with persons of knowledge 
 and information in the town. Keimer himself treated me 
 with great civility and apparent esteem ; and 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. 
 
 Oar press was frequently in want of the necessary quantity 
 wf 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 time paid very little 
 aUention. L however, contrived to fabricate a mould. I 
 made use of 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 
 tku factotum. But useful as I made myself, I perceived 
 

 64 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 that my services became every day of less importance, in 
 proportion as the other men improved ; and when Keimer 
 paid me my second quarter s wages, he eaye me to under 
 stand that they were too heavy, and that lie thought I ought 
 to make an abatement. 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 corning to an open quarrel with me. 
 
 I continued, however, to bear it patiently, conceiving that 
 his ill-humor was partly occasioned by the derangement and 
 embarrassment of his affairs. At last a slight incident broke 
 our connexion. Hearing a noise in the neighborhood, I put 
 my head out at 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 reproach 
 ful words, which piqued me the more, as they were uttered 
 in the street : and the neighbors, 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 exclaim against me. The quarrel be 
 came warm on both sides, and he gave me notice to quit him 
 at the expiration of three months, as had been agreed upon 
 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 ; and 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 came to me in the evening. We talked for some 
 time upon the quarrel that had taken place. He had con 
 ceived 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 me more than he pos 
 sessed : that his creditors 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 
 credit without keeping anv 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 hi<rh opinion of me, and, from a conversation that had 
 passed between them, he was sure that he would adwnce 
 whatever might be necessary to establish us, if I was willing 
 to enter into partnership with him. My time with Keimer, 
 added he, will be at an end next spring. Ii> the meantime 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 5 
 
 we may send to London for our press and types. I know that 
 1 a<n no workman ; but if you a<rree to the proposal, your 
 skill in the business will be balanced by the canitU I shall 
 furnish, and we will share the profits equally. His proposal 
 was seasonable, and I fell in with it. His father, who was 
 then in the town, approved of it. He knew that I had some 
 ascendancy over his son, as I had been able to prevail on him 
 to abstain a long time from drinking brandy : and he hoped 
 that, when more closely connected with him, I should cure 
 him entirely of this unfortunate habit. 
 
 I gave the father a list of what it would be necessary to 
 import from London. He took it to a merchant, and the 
 order was given. We agreed to keep the secret till the arrival 
 of the materials, and I was in the meantime to procure work, 
 if possible, in another printing-house ; but there was no place 
 vacant, and I remained idle. After some days, Keimer 
 having 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 this 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 momentary passion, and inviting me to return to 
 him. Meredith persuaded me to comply with the invitation, 
 particularly as it would afford him more opportunities of 
 improving himself in the business by means of my instruc 
 tions. 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. 1 engraved various 
 ornaments and vignettes for the bills ; and we repaired to 
 Burlington together, where I executed the whole to general 
 satisfaction ; and he received a sum of money for this work, 
 which enabled him to keep his head above water for a con 
 siderable time longer. 
 
 At Burlington I formed an acquaintance with the principal 
 personages of the province ; many of whom were commis 
 sioned by the Assembly to superintend the press, and to see 
 that no more bills were printed than the law had prescribed. 
 Accordingly they were constantly with us, each in his turn ; 
 and he that came, commonly 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 
 
( LIFK AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 me to their houses, introduced me to their friends, and Treated 
 me with the greatest civility; while Keimer, though master, 
 saw himself a little neglected. He was, in fact, a strange 
 animal, ignorant of the common modes of life, apt to oppose 
 with rudeness generally revived opinions, an enthusiast in 
 ceriaui points of religion, disgustingly unclean in his person, 
 and a little knavish withal. 
 
 We remained there nearly three months ; and at the expi- 
 ra:ion of this period I could include in the list of my friends, 
 Judge Allen, Samuel Buslil. secretary of the province, Isaac 
 1 Varson. Joseph Cooper, several of the Smiths, all members 
 <>t" the Assembly, and Isaac Decoii, inspector-general. The 
 l:i<t was a shrewd and subtle old man. He told me, that 
 when a hov. his in st employment had been that of carrying 
 clay to brick-makers ; that lie did not If am to write till he 
 was somewhat advanced in life: that ho was afterward em- 
 pl. vcd as an underling to a surveyor, who taught him his 
 trade, and (hat by industry he had at last acquired a compe 
 tent fortune. I foresee, said he to mo one day, that you 
 will soon supplant this man, (speaking of Keimer.) and get 
 a t">rt nne in the business at Philadelphia. He was totally 
 ignorant, at the time, of my intention of establishing myself 
 there, or any where else. These friends were very sorvioe- 
 jiS .e to me in the end, as was 1 also, upon occasion, to some 
 of them; and they have continued ever since their esteem 
 for me. 
 
 Before I relate tho particulars of mv entrance into busi 
 ness, it may be proper to inform you wliat was at that timo 
 the state of mv mind as to moral principles, that you may see 
 the degree of influence they had upon tho subsequent events 
 of my life. 
 
 IMv parents had given me betimes religious impressions, 
 Rnd t received from my infancy a pious education in the prin 
 ciples of Calvinism. But seareelv 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 1 read. I began to doubt of revelation itself. Some 
 volumes against deism fell into my hands. Thev were said 
 to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle* s Lecture. 
 It happened that they produced " me an etlect precisely tho 
 reverse of what was intends, oy tho writers; tor the argu 
 ments of the deists, which were cited in order to bo refuted, 
 appeared to me much more forcible than the refutation itself. 
 In a word. I soon became a perfect deist. My arguments 
 per veiled some other .young persons, particularly Collins and 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 67 
 
 Ralph. But In the sequel, when I recollected that they had 
 both used me extremely ill, without the smallest remorse ; 
 wher I considered the behavior of Keith, another freethinker, 
 and my own conduct towards Vernon and Miss Read, which 
 fct times gave me great uneasiness, I was led to suspect that 
 this doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. I 
 oe<ran to entertain a less favorable opinion of my London 
 pamphlet, to which I had prefixed, as a motto, the following 
 lines of Dryden : 
 
 Whatever is is riarht ; though purblind man 
 Sees but part of the chain, the nearest link. 
 His eyes not carrying to the equal beam 
 That poises all above. 
 
 And of which the object was to prove, from the attributes of 
 God, his goodness, wisdom, and power, that there could be 
 no such thing as evil in the world ; that vice and virtue did 
 not in reality exist, and were nothing more than vain dis 
 tinctions. I no longer regarded it as so blameless a work as 
 [ had formerly imagined ; and I suspected that some error 
 must have imperceptibly glided into my argument, by which 
 all the inferences I had drawn from it had been affected, as 
 frequently happens in metaphysical reasonings. In a word, 
 I was at last convinced that truth, probity, and sincerity, HI 
 transactions between man and man, were of the utmost im 
 portance to the happiness of life ; and I resolved from that 
 moment, and wrote the resolution in my Journal, to practice 
 them 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 had prohibited them, or good 
 because it enjoined them, yet it was probable that those 
 actions were prohibited because they were bad for us, or 
 enjoined because advantageous in their nature, all things 
 considered. This persuasion, Divine Providence or some 
 guardian angel, and perhaps a concurrence of favorable cir 
 cumstances co-operating, preserved me from all immorality, or 
 gross and voluntary injustice, to which my want of religion 
 was calculated to expose me, in the dangerous period of youth, 
 and in the hazardous situations in which I sometimes found 
 myself, among strangers, and at a distance from the eye and 
 admonitions of my father. I may say voluntary, because the 
 errors into which I had 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 own new career, 
 I had imbibed solid principles, and a character of probity. I 
 
t>8 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 knew their value ; and I made a solemn engagement with 
 myself never to depart from them. 
 
 *I had not long returned from Burlington before our 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 burden 
 some, (it was then twenty-four pounds a year, but I have 
 since known it to let for seventy,) we admitted Thomas 
 Godfrey, a glazier, with his family, who eased us of a con 
 siderable part of it; and with him we agreed to board. 
 
 We had no sooner unpacked our letters, 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 
 inquiring 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 
 pleasure 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 perhaps 
 I should otherwise have been, to encourage young beginners 
 in trade. 
 
 There are in every country morose beings, who are alw ys 
 prognosticating ruin. There was one of this stamp at Phi> 
 delphia. He was a man of fortune, declined in years, had an 
 air of wisdom, and a very grave manner of speaking. His 
 name was Samuel Mickle. I knew him not ; but he stopped 
 one day at my door, and asked me if I was the young man 
 who had lately opened a new printing-house. Upon 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 
 being 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 reality 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 known this man before I entered 
 into trade, I should doubtless never have ventured. He con 
 tinued, however, to live in this place of decay, and to declaim 
 in the same style, refusing for many years to buy a house 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 59 
 
 because all 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 have cost him had he purchased it when he first began 
 his lamentations. 
 
 I ought to have related that during the autumn of the pre 
 ceding 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 understandings. 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, 
 politics, or philosophy, which were to be discussed by the 
 society; and to read, once in three months, an essay of his 
 own composition, on whatever subject he pleased. Our de 
 bates were under the direction of a president, arid were to be 
 dictated only by a sincere desire of truth ; the pleasure of 
 disputing, arid the vanity of triumph having no share in the 
 business ; and in order to prevent undue warmth, every 
 expression which implied obstinate adherence to an opinion, 
 and all direct contradiction, were prohibited, under small 
 pecuniary penalties. 
 
 The first members of our club were, Joseph Brientnal, 
 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 mathemati 
 cian, and who was afterward the inventor of what now goes 
 by the name of Hadley s dial ; but he had little knowledge out 
 of his own line, and was insupportable in company, always 
 requiring, like the majority of mathematicians that have fallen 
 in my way, an unusual precision in everv thing that is said, 
 continually contradicting, or making trifling distinctions; a 
 sure way of defeating all the ends of conversation. He very 
 Boon left us. 
 
 Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became, afterward, 
 surveyor-general. He was fond of books, and wrote verses. 
 
 William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a shoemaker, 
 out who, having a taste for reading, had acquired a profound 
 knowledge of mathematics. He lirst studied them with a 
 view to astrology, and was afterward the first to laugh at his 
 folly. He also became surveyor-general. 
 
 William Mawgride, a joiner, and very excellent mechanic, 
 and in other respects a man of solid understanding. 
 

 60 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN 
 
 Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, of whom 
 I have already spoken. 
 
 Hubert Grace, a young man of fortune ; generous, animated, 
 and witty ; fond of epigrams, but more fond of 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 more scrupulous morals, than almost 
 any other person I have ever met with. He became a very 
 respec able 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 for politics and philosophy that 
 then existed in the province; for our questions, which were 
 read once a week previous to their discussion, induced us to 
 peruse attentively such books as were written upon the sub 
 jects proposed, that we might be able to speak upon them 
 more pertinently. We thus acquired the habit of conversing 
 more agreeably ; every subject being discussed conformably to 
 JUT 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 
 [ proceed. 
 
 I have introduced it here, as being one of the means on 
 which I had to count for success in my business, every mem- 
 be, ixertirig himself to procure work for us. Breintnal, among 
 others, obtained for us on the part of the quakers, the printing 
 of f >rty 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 propatria paper, and in the pica letter, with heavy notes 
 in the smallest type. I composed a sheet a day, and Mere- 
 fith put it to the press. It was frequently eleven o clock at 
 niirht, sometimes later, before I had finished my distribution 
 for the next day s task ; for the little things which our friends 
 occasionally sent us, kept us back in this work : but I was so 
 do er mined to compose a sheet a day, that one evening, when 
 my form was imposed, and my day s work, as I thought, to an 
 end, an accident having broken this form, and deranged two 
 complete folio pages, I immediately distributed, and composed 
 them anew before I went to bed. 
 
 This unwearied industry, which was perceived by our neigh 
 !x>rs, brcgan to acquire us reputation and credit. I learned, 
 among other things, that our new printing-house being the 
 subject of conversation at a club of merchants, who met every 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. U. 
 
 evening, it was the general opinion that it would fail ; there 
 being already two printing-houses in the town, Keimer s and 
 Bradford s. But Dr. Bard, whom you and I had occasion to 
 see, many years after, at his native town of St. Andrews, in 
 Scotland, was of a different opinion. The industry of this 
 Franklin (says he) is superior to any thing of 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 neighbors are out of bed. This account, struck the rest 
 of the assembly, and, shortly after, one of its members came 
 to our house, and offered to supply us with articles of station 
 ery ; 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 particulars of my industry, but that such of 
 my descendants 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 favor. 
 
 George Webb, having found a friend who lent him the ne 
 cessary sum to buy out his time of Keimer, came one day to 
 offer 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 con 
 ducted, in no respect amusing, and which yet was profitable. 
 I consequently supposed that a good work of this kind could 
 Bot fail of success. Webb betrayed mv secret to Keimer, 
 nrho, to prevent me, immediately publisn^ed the prospectus of 
 i paper that he intended to institute himself, and in which 
 VVebb was to be engaged. 
 
 I was exasperated at this proceeding, and, with a view to 
 counteract them, not being able at present to institute my own 
 paper, I wrote some humorous pieces in Bradford"*, under the 
 title of the Busy Body:* and which was continued for several 
 months by Bremtnal. I hereby fixed the attention of the public 
 upon Bradford^ paper ; and the prospectus of Keimer, which 
 we turned into ridicule, was treated with contempt. He be 
 gan, notwithstanding, his paper ; and, after continuing it for 
 nine months, having at most not more than ninety subscribers, 
 
 * A manuscript note in the file of the American Mercury, pre 
 erved in the Philadelphia library, says, that Franklin wrote 
 th* first five numbers, and part of the eightU- 
 
62 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 he offered it 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 extremely 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 devolved 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 connected with him ; but I contrived to derive 
 from it the utmost advantage the case admitted. 
 
 Our first number produced no other effect than any other 
 aper 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 Bur- 
 net 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 become 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 had taken to learn to put my ideas 
 on paper. I derived this farther advantage from it, that the 
 leading men of the place, seeing in the author of this publi 
 cation a man so well able to use his pen, thought it right to 
 patronize and encourage me. 
 
 The votes, laws, and other public pieces, were printed by 
 Bradford. An address of the House of Assembly to the Gov 
 ernor had been executed by him in a very coarse and incor 
 rect manner. We reprinted it with accuracy and neatness, 
 arid sent a copy to every member. They perceived the dif 
 ference ; and it so strengthened the influence of our friends in 
 the Assembly, that we were nominated its printer for the fol 
 lowing year. 
 
 Among these friends I ought not to forget one member in 
 particular, Mr. Hamilton, whom I have mentioned in a for 
 mer part of my narrative, and who was now returned from 
 England. He warmly interested himself for me on this occa 
 sion, as he did likewise on many others afterward ; having 
 continued his kindness to me till his death. 
 
 About this period, Mr. Vernon reminded me of the debt I 
 owed him, but without pressing me for payment. I wrote a 
 handsome letter on the occasion, begging him to wait a little 
 longer, to which he consented ; and as soon as I was able I 
 paid him principal and interest, with many expressions of 
 gratitude ; so that this error of my life was in a manner atoned 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 63 
 
 But another trouble now happened to me, which I had not 
 the smallest reason to expect. Meredith s father, who, ac 
 cording to our agreement, was to defray the whole expense of 
 our printing materials, had only paid a hundred pounds. An 
 other hundred was still due, and the merchant being tired of 
 waiting, commenced a suit against us. We bailed the ac 
 tion, 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 delightful hopes be 
 annihilated, and ourselves entirely ruined ; 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 either of them. Each offered whatever money might be 
 necessary to take the business into my own hands, if the thing 
 was practicable, as they did not like I should continue in part 
 nership 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 Cole- 
 man 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; 
 bur, in" the end, should they fail in their engagement, 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, perhaps, 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 really 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 ; I was edu 
 cated as a farmer, and it was absurd in me to come here, at 
 thirty years of age, and bind myself apprentice to a new trade. 
 Many of my countrymen are going to settle in North Caro 
 lina, where the soil is exceedingly favorable. 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 
 
64 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRAMKLIN. 
 
 take upon yourself the debts of the partnership, return my 
 father the hundred pounds he has advanced, pay my little per 
 sonal debts, and give me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I 
 will renounce the partnership, and consign over the whole 
 stock to you. 
 
 I accepted the proposal without hesitation. It was com 
 mitted to paper, and signed and sealed without delay. I gave 
 him what he demanded, and he departed soon after for Caro 
 lina, 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 
 was 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 either of them, 
 I accepted from each half what he had offered me, arid 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 there 
 about. 
 
 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 expire. The wealthy in 
 habitants, prejudiced against every sort of paper currency, 
 from the fear of its depreciation, of which there had been an 
 instance in the province of New-England, to the injury of its 
 holders, strongly opposed this measure. We had discussed 
 this affair in our Junto, in which I was on the side of the uew 
 emission ; convinced that the first small sum, fabricated in 
 1723, had done much good in the province, by favoring com 
 merce, industry, and population, since all the houses were 
 now inhabited, and many others building ; whereas I remem 
 bered to have seen, when I first paraded the streets of Phila 
 delphia, eating my roll, the majority of those in Walnut-street, 
 Second-street, Fourth-street, as well as a great number in 
 Chesnut arid other streets, with papers on them signifying 
 that they were to be let ; which made me think at that time 
 that the inhabitants of the town were deserting it one alter 
 another. 
 
 Our debates made me so fully master of the subject, that I 
 wrote and published an anonymous pamphlet, entitled, An 
 Inquiry into the Nature and Necessity of Paper Currency. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FR &.NKLIN. 66 
 
 *t was very well received by the lower and middling classes 
 of people ; but it displeased the opulent, as it increased the 
 clamor in favor of the new emission. Having, however, no 
 writer among them capable of answering it, their opposition 
 became less violent ; and there being in the House of Assem 
 bly 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 em 
 ployment, 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 utility of 
 paper currency, that it never after experienced any consider 
 able opposition ; so that it soon amounted to 55,GGO/. and in 
 the year 1739 to 80,OOOL It has since risen, during the last 
 war, to 350,000/., trade, buildings, and population, having in 
 the interval continually increased : but I am now convinced 
 that there are limits beyond which paper money would be 
 prejudicial. 
 
 I soon after obtained, by the influence of my friend Hamil 
 ton, the printing of the Newcastle paper money, anoiher 
 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 encouragements. He also pro 
 cured me the printing of the laws and votes o: that great 
 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 accurate form 
 than had yet been seen in lhat part of the world; a work in 
 which I was assisted by my friend Breintnal. I had also 
 paper, parchment, paslebojfc-d, books, &c. One Whitemash, 
 an excellent compositor, whom I had known in London, came 
 to offer himself: I engaged him ; and he continued constantly 
 and diligently to work with me. I also took an apprentice, 
 the son of Aquilla Rose. 
 
 I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had contracted; 
 and, in order to insure my credit and character as a trades 
 man, I took care not only to be realty industrious and frugal, 
 but also to avoid every appearance of the contrary I was 
 plainly dressed, and never seen in any place of public amuse- 
 merit. I never went a fishing or hunting. A book indeed 
 enticed rne sometimes from my work, hut it was seldom, by 
 stealth, and occasioned no scandal ; and, to show that I did 
 
66 LIFE AND ESSAYS OP FRANKLIN. 
 
 not think myself above my profession, 1 conveyed Home some, 
 times in a wneeroarrow, the paper 1 had purchased at the 
 warehouses. 
 
 f thus obtained the reputation of being an industrious young 
 man, and very punctual in my p tyments. The merchants who 
 imported articles of stationery solicited my custom ; others 
 offered to furnish me with books, and my little trade went on 
 prosperously. 
 
 Meanwhile the credit and business of Keimer diminishing 
 every day, he was at last forced to sell his stock to satisfy his 
 creditors ; and he betook himself to Barbadoes, where he lived 
 for some time in a very impoverished state. His apprentice, 
 David Harry, whom I had instructed while I worked with 
 Keimer, having bought his materials, succeeded in the busi 
 ness. I was apprehensive, at first, of finding in Harry a pow 
 erful competitor, as he was allied to an opulent and respectable 
 family; I therefore proposed a partnership, which, happily for 
 me, he rejected with disdain. He was extremely proud, 
 thought himself a fine gentleman, lived extravagantly, and 
 pursued amusements which suffered him to be scarcely ever 
 at home ; of consequence he became in debt, neglected his 
 business, and business neglected him. Finding in a short time 
 nothing to do in the country, he followed Keimer to Barbadoes, 
 carrying his printing materials with him. There the appren 
 tice emyloyed his old master as a journeyman. They were 
 continually quarrelling ; and Harry, still getting in debt, was 
 obliged at last to sell his press and types, and to return to his 
 old occupation of husbandry in Pennsylvania. The person 
 who purchased them, employed Keimer to manage the busi 
 ness ; but he died a few years after. 
 
 I had now at Philadelphia no competitor but Bradford, who, 
 being in easy circumstances, did not engage in the printing of 
 books, except now and then as workmen chanced to offer 
 themselves ; and was not anxious to extend his trade. He had, 
 however, ne advantage over me, as he had the direction 
 of the post-office, and was of consequence supposed to have 
 better opportunities of obtaining news. His paper was also 
 supposed to be more advantageous to advertising customers: 
 and in consequence of that supposition, his advertisements 
 were much more numerous than mine : this was a source 
 of great profit to him, and disadvantageous to me. It was 
 fo no purpose that I really procured other papers and dis. 
 tributed my own, by means of the post; and the public took 
 for granted my inability in this respect; and I was indeed 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 67 
 
 unable to conquer it in any other modi fha_i by bribing the 
 postboys, 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 I after 
 ward 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. God 
 frey formed a wish of marrying me to the daughter of one of 
 frcr relations. She contrived various opportunities of bring 
 ing us together, till she saw that I was captivated ; which 
 was no i diih cult ; the lady in question possessing great per 
 sonal merit. The parents encouraged my addresses, by in 
 viting me continually to supper, and leaving us together, till 
 at last it was time to come to an explanation. Mrs. Godfrey 
 undertook to negotiate our little treaty. I gave her to under 
 stand, that I expected to receive with the young lady a sum 
 of money that would enable me at least to discharge the re 
 mainder of the 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 mortgage on 
 their house. The reply to this, was, after a few days inter 
 val, 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 supplied by new ones ; that Keimer and Harry 
 had failed, and that, probably, I should do so too. Accord 
 ingly they forbade me the house, and the young lady was con 
 fined. I know not if they had really changed their minds, or 
 if it was merely an artifice, supposing our affections 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 tneir house. 
 
 Sometime after, Mrs. Godfrey informed me that they were 
 favorably disposed towards me, and wished me to renew 
 U* acquaintance ; but I declared a firm resolution never to 
 have any thing more to do with the family. The Godfreys 
 expressed some resentment at this ; and as we could no longer 
 agree, they changed their 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 J ooked 
 
68 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 around me, and made overtures of alliance in other quarters; 
 but I soon found that the profession of a printer, being gen 
 erally looked upon as a poor trade, I could expect no money 
 with a wife, at least, if I wished her to possess any other 
 charm. Meanwhile, that passion of youth, so difficult to 
 govern, had often drawn me into intrigues with despicable 
 women who fell in my way ; which were not unaccompanied 
 with expense and inconvenience, besides the perpetual risk of 
 injuring my health, and catching a disease which I dreaded 
 above all things. But I was fortunate enough to escape this 
 danger. 
 
 As a neighbor and old acquaintance, I had 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 touched with the unhappy situation of their 
 daughter, who was almost always melancholy, and continually 
 seeking solitude. I regarded my forgetfulness and inconstancy, 
 during my abode in London, as the principal part of her mis 
 fortune, though her mother had the candor to attribute the 
 fault to herself, rather than to me, because, after having pre 
 vented our marriage previously to my departure, she had in 
 duced her to marry another in my absence. 
 
 Our mutual affection revived ; but there existed great obsta 
 cles to our union. Her marriage was considered, indeed, as 
 not being valid, the man having, it was said, a former wife still 
 living in England; but of this U was difficult to obtain a proof 
 at so great a distance ; and though a report prevailed of his 
 oeing 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, nevertheless, in 
 spite of all these difficulties ; and I married her on the 1st 
 of September, 1730. None of the inconveniences we had 
 feared, happened to us. She proved to me "a good and faithful 
 companion, and contributed essentially to the success of my 
 shop. We prospered together, and it was our mutual study 
 to render each 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 appropri 
 ated a room to the purpose. Some member observed one day 
 that as our books were frequently quoted in the course of oui 
 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 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 59 
 
 our individual collections, each would have the advantage ot 
 usin? 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 accordingly 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 in 
 conveniences resulting from want of care, it was agreed, after 
 about a year, to discontinue the collection ; and each took 
 away such books as belonged to him. 
 
 It was now that I first started the idea of establishing, bv 
 subscription, a public library. I drew up the proposals, had 
 them engrossed in form by Brockden, the attorney, and mv 
 project succeeded, as will be seen in the sequel. * * 
 ** ** * * ** * * 
 
 TThe life of Dr. Franklin, as written bv himself, so far as 
 it has yet been communicated to the world, breaks off in this 
 place. We understand that it was continued by him some 
 what farther, and we hope that the remainder will, at some 
 future period, be communicated to the public. We have no 
 hesitation in supposing, that every reader will find himself 
 greatly interested by the frank simplicity and the philosophi 
 cal discernment by which these pages are so eminently cha 
 racterized. We have therefore thought proper, in order as 
 much as possible to relieve his regret, to subjoin 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. Stuber* of Philadelphia.] 
 
 * Dr. Stuber was born in Philadelphia, of German parents. 
 He was sent, at an early age, to the university, where his 
 genius, diligence, and amiable temper, soon acquired him the 
 particular notice and favor of those under whose immediate 
 direction he was placed. 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 flattering prospects of his future 
 eminence and usefulness in his profession. As Dr. Stuber s 
 circumstances were very moderate, he did not think this pur 
 suit well calculated to answer them. He therefore relinquished 
 it, after he had obtained a degree in the profession, and quali 
 fied himself to practice with credit and success : and imme 
 diately entered on the study of the law. While in pursuit of 
 the last-mentioned object, he was prevented, by a premature 
 death, from reaping the fruit of those talents with which he 
 was endowed, and of a youth spent in the ardent and success 
 ful pursxiit of useful and elegant literature 
 
support 
 siderabli 
 
 70 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 The promotion of literature had been little attended to It 
 Pennsylvania. Most of the inhabitants were too much im 
 mersed 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 libraries sufficiently large. 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 subscribed forty shillings 
 each, and agreed to pay ten 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 Library Company of 
 Philadelphia, which thus received a considerable accession of 
 books and property. It now contains about eight thousand 
 volumes on all subjects, a philosophical apparatus, and a well 
 chosen collection of natural and artificial curiosities. For its 
 the Company now possess landed property of con- 
 ible value. They 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 by the friends of 
 literature in America and in Great Britain. The Penn family 
 distinguished themselves by their donations. Amongst the 
 earliest friends of this institution must be mentioned the late 
 Peter Collinson, the friend and companion 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, enabled him to execute 
 this important trust with the greatest advantage. He con 
 tinued to perform these services for more than thirty years, 
 and uniformly refused to accept, of any compensation. During 
 this time, he communicated to the directors every information 
 relative to improvements and discoveries in the arts, agricul 
 ture, and philosophy. 
 
 The beneficial influence of this institution was soon evident. 
 The terms of subscription to it were so moderate, that it waa 
 accessible to every one. Its advantages were not confined to 
 the opulent. The citizens in tho middle and lower walks of 
 life were equally partakers of them. Hence a degree ^ of 
 information was extended amongst all classes of people. The 
 example was soon followed. Libraries were established i 
 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 71 
 
 various places, and they are now become very numerous 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 everywhere increased. This will be the 
 best security for 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 tyranny reigns. It flies before 
 the light of science. Let the citizens of America, then, 
 encourage institutions calculated to diffuse knowledge amongst 
 people ; and amongst these, public libraries are not the least 
 mnportant. 
 
 In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Richard s Alma 
 nack. This was remarkable for the numerous and valuable 
 ?oncise maxims wlncTi It contained, all tending to exhort to 
 md!i?try and frugality. It was continued for many years. 
 Cn the almanack for the last year, all the maxims were col 
 lected in an address to the reader, entitled, The Way to 
 Wealth. This has been translated into various languages, 
 inr! inserted in different publications. It has also been printed 
 n a large sheet, and may be seen framed in many houses 
 m this city. This address contains, perhaps, the best prac 
 tical system of economy that has ever 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 
 emarks and advice which it contains. The demand for this 
 xlmanack was so great, that ten thousand have been sold in 
 )ne year; which must be considered as a very large number, 
 sspecially when we reflect, that this country was, at that 
 ime, but thinly peopled. It cannot be doubted that the 
 alutary maxims contained in these almanacks, must have 
 wade a favorable impression upon many of the readers of 
 .ie-n. 
 
 It was not long before Franklin entered upon his political 
 career. In ih<; \ear 1736, he was appointed clerk to the 
 .1 assembly of Pennsylvania ; and was re-elected by 
 tfm^ assemblies for several years, until he was chosen 
 a represorUi/ivo for the city of Philadelphia, 
 
 Bradford was possessed of some advantages over Franklin, 
 by beinw postmaster, thereby having an opportunity of circu 
 lating his paper more extensively, and thus rendering it a better 
 1 vehicle for advertisements, &c. Franklin, in his turn, enjoyed 
 these advantages, by bcin^ appointed postmaster of Philadel 
 phia in 1737. Bradford, whi e in office, had acted ungener- 
 otisly towards Franklin, preventing as much as possible the 
 circulation of his Dauer. Hv *iaJ ow an opportunity at 
 
72 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 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 nndnigh* 
 robber, and to give an immediate alarm in case of fire. Th 
 duty is, perhaps, one of the most important that can be com 
 mitted to any set of men. The regulations, however, were 
 not sufficiently strict. Franklin saw the dangers arising fmm 
 this cause, and suggested an alteration, so as to oblige vhe 
 guardians of the night to be more watchful over the lives -JH? 
 property of the citizens. The propriety of this was imme 
 diately perceived, and a reform was effected. 
 
 There is nothing more dangerous to growing cities ,han 
 fires. Other causes operate slowly, and almost imperceptibly : 
 but these in a moment render abortive the labors of ages. On 
 this account there should be, in all cities, ample provisions to 
 prevent fires from spreading. Franklin early saw the neces 
 sity 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 the 
 city and liberties. To these may be attributed in a great 
 degree the activity in extinguishing fires, for which the citizens 
 of Philadelphia are distinguished, and the inconsiderable dam- 
 stained from this cause. Sometime 
 }lan of an association for insuring 
 lich was adopted; and the asso 
 ciation 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 inhabitants. 
 During the lifetime of William Penn, the constitution had 
 b<-en three times altered. After this period, the history of 
 Pennsylvania is little else than a recital of the quarrels be- 
 tween the proprietaries, or their governors, and the Assemoiy. 
 The proprietaries contended for the right of exempting their 
 lands from taxes ; to which the Assembly would by no means 
 consent. This subject of dispute interfered in almost every 
 question, and prevented the most salutary law,: from being 
 enacted. This at times subjected the people to great incon 
 veniences. In the year 1744, during a war between France 
 and Great Britain, some French and Indians had made 
 irioads 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, 
 
 ot i j mladelpnia are distinguished, ar 
 age which this city has sustained frc 
 after, Franklin suggested the plan of 
 houses from losses by fire, which w 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 73 
 
 to pass a militia law. To this they would agree only upoii 
 condition that he should give his assent to certain laws, which 
 appeared to them calculated to promote the interests of the 
 people. As he thought these laws would be injurious to the 
 proprietaries, he refused his assent to them ; and the Assem 
 bly broke up without passing a militia law. The situation of 
 the province was at this time truly alarming ; exposed to the 
 continued inroad of an enemy, and destitute of every means of 
 defence. At this crisis Franklin stepped forth, and proposed 
 to a meeting 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 imme 
 diately. Copies were instantly circulated throughout the pro- 
 vince ; and in a short time the number of signers amounted tc 
 ten thousand, Franklin was chosen colonel of the Phila 
 delphia regiment ; but he did not think proper to accept of thb 
 honor. 
 
 Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the greatest 
 part of his attention for some years. He engaged in a course 
 of electrical experiments, with all the ardor and thirst for dis 
 covery which characterized the philosophers of that day. Of 
 all the branches of experimental philosophy, electricity had 
 been least explored. The attractive power of amber is men 
 tioned by Theophrastus and Pliny, and from them by later 
 naturalists. In the year 1600, Gilbert, an English physician, 
 enlarged considerably the catalogue of substances which have 
 the property of attracting light bodies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, 
 a burgomaster of Magdeburg, celebrated as the inventor of 
 the air-pump, Dr. Wall, and Sir Isaac Newton, added some 
 facts. Guericke first observed the repulsive power of elor- 
 tricity, and the light and noise produced by it. Tn 1709, 
 Hawkesbec communicated some important observations and 
 experiments to the world. For several years electricity wa,s 
 entirely neglected, until Mr. Grey applied himself to"it, in 
 1728, with great assiduity. He and his frieijd Mr. Wheeler, 
 made a great variety of experiments, in which they demon 
 strated, that electricity may be communicated from one body 
 to another, even without being in contact, and in this way may 
 be conducted to a great distance. Mr. Grey afterward 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, intendantof 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 
 
74 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 vitreous and resinous ; the former produced by rubbing glass, 
 the latter from excited sulphur, sealing-wax, &c. But this 
 idea he afterward gave up as erroneous. Between the years 
 1739 and 1742, Desauguliers made a number of experiments. 
 Dut added little of importance. He first used the terms con 
 ductors and electrics per se. In 1742, several ingenious Ger 
 mans engaged in this subject ; of these the principal were, 
 professor Boze, of Wittemburg, professor Wmkler of Leip- 
 s;e, Gordon, a Scotch Benedictine monk, professor of phi 
 losophy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf, of Beriin. The result 
 of iheir researches astonished the philosophers of Europe. 
 Their apparatus was large, and by means of it they were 
 enabled to collect large quantities of the electric fluid, and 
 thus to produce phenomena which had been hitherto unob 
 served. They killed small birds, and set spirits on fire. Their 
 experiments excited the curiosity of other philosophers. Col- 
 .inson, about the year 1745, sent to the Library Company of 
 Philadelphia an account of these experiments, together with a 
 tube, and directions how to use it. Franklin, with some of 
 his friends, immediately engaged in a course of experiments ; 
 the result of which is well-known. He was enabled to make 
 a number of important discoveries, and to propose theories to 
 account for various phenomena ; which have been univer 
 sally adopted, and which bid fair to endure for ages. His ob 
 servations he communicated, in a series of letters, to his friend 
 {Juhinson ; the first of which is dated March 28,1747. In 
 ihese he shows the power of points in drawing and throwing 
 off tiie electrical matter, which had hitherto escaped the no 
 tice of electricians. He also made the grand discovery of a 
 plus and minus t or of a positive and negative state or elec 
 tricity. We give him the honor of this, without hesitation ; 
 although the English have claimed it for their countryman 
 Dr. Watson. Watson s paper is dated January 21, 1748 
 Franklin s July 11, 1747, several months prior. Shortly after 
 Franklin, from hij principles of the plus and minus state, 
 explained, in a satisfactory manner, the phenomena of the 
 Leyden phial, first observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by professor 
 Miischenbroeck, of Leyden, which had much perplexed phi 
 losophers. He showed clearly, that the bottle, when charged, 
 cantained no more electricity than before, but that as much 
 was taken from one side as was thrown on the other ; and 
 that, to discharge it, nothing was necessary but to produce a 
 communication between the two sides, by which the equi 
 librium might be restored, and that then no signs of electricity 
 would remain. He afterward demonstrated, by experiments, 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 75 
 
 that the electricity did not reside in the coating as had been 
 supposed, but in tne 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 electricity agree ; and he adduces many facts, 
 and reasonings 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 lightning, by means of sharp-pointed iron rods raised 
 into the region of the clouds. Even in this uncertain state, 
 his passion to be useful to mankind displays itself in a pow 
 erful manner. Admitting the identity of electricity and light 
 ning, and knowing the power of points in repelling bodies 
 charged with electricity, and in conducting their fire silently 
 and imperceptibly, he suggested the idea of securing houses, 
 ships, &c. from being damaged by lightning, by erecting 
 pointed rods, that should rise some feet above the most ele 
 vated 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 con 
 tained; or, if they could not effect this, they would at least 
 ,:onduct the electric matter to the earth, without any injury to 
 (he building. 
 
 It was not until the summer of 1752, that he was enabled 
 to complete his grand and unparalleled discovery by experi 
 ment. The plan which he had originally proposed, was, to 
 erect on some high tower, or other elevated place, a sentry- 
 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, the knuckle, or other 
 conductor, was presented to it. Philadelphia at. this time 
 afforded no opportunity of trying a-n experiment of this kind. 
 While Franklin was waiting for the erection of a spire, it 
 occurred to him that he might have more ready access to the 
 region of clouds by means of a common kite. He prepared 
 one by fastening two cross sticks to a silk handkerchief, which 
 vould not suffer so much from the rain as paper. To the 
 upright stick was affixed an iron point. The string was, as 
 l, of hemp, except the lower end, which was silk. Where 
 
70 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 the hempen string terminated, a key was fastened. With this 
 apparatus, on the appearance of a thundergust approaching, 
 L>e went out into the commons, accompanied oy his son, to 
 whom alone he communicated his intentions, well knowing 
 i.he ridicule which, too generally for the interest of science, 
 awaits unsuccessful experiments in philosophy. He placed 
 himself under a shade, to avoid the rain his kite was raised 
 a thunder-cloud passed over it no sign of electricity ap- 
 peare.l. He almost despaired of success, when, suddenly, 
 he observed the loose fibres of his string to move towards an 
 ^rect position. He now presented his knuckle to the key, 
 and received a strong spark. How exquisite must his sensa- 
 ti^ns have been at this moment ! On this experiment depended 
 the fate of his theory. If he succeeded, his name would rank 
 high among those who had 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 projector. The anxiety with which he looked for 
 the result of his experiment, may be easily conceived. Doubts 
 and despair had begun to prevail, when the fact was ascer 
 tained in so clear a manner, that even the most incredulous 
 could no longer withhold their assent. Repeated sparks, were 
 drawn trorn the key, a phial was charged, a shock given, and 
 all the experiments made which are usually performed with 
 electricity. 
 
 About a month before this period, some ingenious French 
 man had completed the discovery in the manner originally 
 proposed by Dr. Franklin. The letters which he sent to Mr. 
 Oollinson, it is said, were refused a place in the Transactions 
 of the Royal Society of London. However this may be, 
 Collinson published them in a separate volume, under the title 
 of New Experiments and Observations on Electricity, made 
 at Philadelphia, in America. They were read with avidity, 
 and soon translated into different languages. A very incorrect 
 French translation fell into the hands of the celebrated Buffon, 
 who, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which the work 
 .abored, was much pleased with it, and repeated the experi 
 ments with success. He prevailed on his friend, M. D Alibard, 
 to give his countrymen a more correct translation of the 
 American electrician. This contributed much towards spread 
 ing a knowledge of Franklin 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. Germain, by 
 M. de Lor. The applauses which the king bestowed upon 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 77 
 
 Franklin, excited in Buffon, D Alibard, and De Lor, an earnest 
 desire of ascertaining the truth of this theory of thunde.rgust. 
 Buffon erected his apparatus on the tower of Montbar^ M. 
 D Alibard at Mary-la-ville, and De Lor at his house hi the 
 Estrapade at Paris, some of the highest ground in that capital. 
 D Alibard s machine first showed signs of electricity. On the 
 10th 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 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, by M. D Alibard, in a 
 Memoir, dated May 13th, 1752. On the 18th of May, M. de 
 Lor proved equally successful with the apparatus erected at 
 his own house. These philosophers soon excited those of 
 other parts of Europe to repeat the experiment, amongst whom 
 none signalized themselves more than Father Beccaria, of 
 Turin, 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 conductor put a period to his existence. The friends 
 of science will long remember with regret, the amiable martyr 
 to electricity. 
 
 By these experiments, Franklin s theory was established 
 in the most convincing manner. When the truth of it could 
 no longer be doubted, envy and vanity endeavored to detract 
 from its merit. That an American, an inhabitant of the 
 obscure city of Philadelphia, 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 some one else. 
 An American, a being of an inferior order, make discoveries ! 
 Impossible. It was said that the Abb6 Nollet, 1748, had 
 suggested the idea of the similarity of lightning and electri 
 city in his Leqons de Physique. It is true that the Abb6 
 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 thought of bringing lightning from the heavens, by 
 means of pointed rods fixed in the air. The similarity of 
 lightning and electricity 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 mentioned by Dr. 
 
f8 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Wall and Mr. Grey, while the science was in its infanftT 
 But the honor of forming a regular theory of thundergusts, 
 of suggesting a mode of determining the truth of it by experi 
 ments, and of putting these experiments in practice, and thus 
 establishing the theory upon a firm and solid basis, is incon- 
 testably due to Franklin. D Alibard, who made the first 
 experiments in France, says, that he only followed the track 
 which Franklin had pointed out. 
 
 It has been of late asserted, that the honor of completing 
 the experiment with the electrical kite, does not belong to 
 Franklin. Some late English paragraphs have attributed it 
 to some Frenchman, whose name they do not mention ; and 
 the Abbe Bertholon gives it to M. de Romas, assessor to the 
 jjresidal of Nerac : the English paragraphs probably refer to 
 the same person. But a very slight attention will convince 
 us of the injustice of this procedure : Dr. Franklin s experi 
 ment was made in June, 1752 : and his letter, 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 
 ;ompleted the discovery, and when it was known to all the 
 philosophers in Europe. 
 
 Besides these great principles, Franklin s letters on elec 
 tricity contain a number of facts and hints, which have 
 contributed greatly towards reducing this branch of knowledge 
 to a science. His friend, Mr. Kinnersley, communicated to 
 him a discovery of the different kinds of electricity, excited 
 bv rubbing glass and sulphur. This, we have said, was first 
 observed by M. du Faye ; but it was for many years neg 
 lected. The philosophers were disposed to account lor the 
 phenomena, 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 repeating the experiments, he perceived 
 that Mr. Kinnersley was right ; and that the vitreous and 
 resinous electricity of du Faye were nothing more than the 
 positive and negative states which he had before observed ; 
 and that the glass globe charged positively, or increased the 
 quantity of electricity on the prime conductor, while the globe 
 of sulphur diminished its natural quantity, or charged ne^o- 
 tively. These experiments and observations opened a lit w 
 field for investigation, upon which electricians entered with 
 avidity ; and their labors have added much to tlie stock of our 
 knowledge. 
 
 In Sentembcr. 1752, Franklin entered upon a course of 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 79 
 
 experiments, to determine the state of electricity in the clouds. 
 From a nnmber of experiments he formed this conclusion : 
 1 That the clouds of a thundergust 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 thunderstrokes, 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 Sep 
 tember, 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 proportion as they 
 have become known, his principles have been adopted. Some 
 opposition was made to his theories, particularly by the Abbe 
 Nollet, who was, however, but feebly supported, while the 
 first philosophers in Europe stepped forth in defence of 
 Franklin s principles, 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 pre 
 vented their general introduction into Europe, notwithstanding 
 the most undoubted 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 perhaps we have more 
 reason to be surprised that a practice, however rational, which 
 was proposed about forty years ago, should in that time have 
 been adopted in so many places, than that it has not univer 
 sally 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 inoculation 
 was introduced into Europe and America; and it is so far 
 from being general at present, that it will require one or two* 
 centuries to render it so. 
 
 In the year 1745, Franklin published an account of his 
 new invented Pennsylvania fireplaces, in which he minutely 
 and accurately states the advantages of different kinds of 
 fireplaces; and endeavors to show, that the one which he 
 describes is to be preferred to any other. This contrivance 
 has given rise to th>. open stoves now in general use, which, 
 
80 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLiN. 
 
 however, differ from it in construction, particularly in no 
 having an air-box at the back, through which a constant 
 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 con 
 sequences of which are colds, toothaches, &c. 
 
 Although philosophy was a principal object of Franklin 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 (he city of Philadelphia. 
 Warm disputes subsisted at this time between the Assembly 
 and the proprietaries ; each contending for what they con 
 ceived 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 of the proprietaries. He was 
 soon looked up to as the head of the opposition ; and to him 
 have been attributed many of the spirited replies of the As 
 sembly to the messages ofthe governors. His influence in tho 
 body was very great. JThis arose not from any superior 
 powers of eloquence; he spoke but seldom, and he never was 
 known to make any thing like an elaborate harangue. His 
 speeches often consisted of a single sentence, of a well-told 
 story, the moral of which was obviously to the point. He 
 never attempted the flowry fields of oratory. His manner was 
 plain and mild. <JrIis style in speaking was, like that of his 
 writings, simple, unadorned, and 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 
 ofthe people. He wished to render them permanently secure, 
 which can only be done by making their value properly known ; 
 and this must depend upon increasing and extending informa 
 tion to every class of men. We have already seen that he 
 was the founder ofthe public library, which contributed greatly 
 towards 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 undertaken; and, after all, 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 81 
 
 nothing more could be obtained than the rudiments of a com 
 mon English education. Franklin drew up a plan of an acad 
 emy, to be erected in the city of Philadelphia, suited to iho 
 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 posterity to erect a seminary oi 
 learning more extensive, and suitable to future circumstances. 
 In pursuance 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 Philadelphia were 
 named as trustees. In the choice of these, and in the for 
 mation of his plan, Franklin is said to have consulted chiefly 
 with Thomas Hopkinson, Esq. the Rev. Richard Peters, then 
 secretary of the province, Tench Francis, Esq. attorney- 
 general, and Dr. Phineas Bond. 
 
 The following article shows a spirit of benevolence worthy 
 of imitation; and for the honor of our city, we hope that it 
 continues to be in force. 
 
 In case of the disability of the rector, or any master (estab 
 lished on the foundation by receiving a certain salary) through 
 sickness, or any other natural infirmity, 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 rule is expressed in lan 
 guage so tender and benevolent, so truly parental, that it will 
 do everlasting honor 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, to 
 countenance and assist the masters, and by all means in their 
 power, advance the usefulness and reputation of the design 5 
 that they will look on the students as, in some measure, their 
 own children, treat them with familiarity and affection ; and, 
 when they have behaved well, gone through their studies, and 
 are to enter the world, they shall 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, in preference to all other persons whatsoever, 
 even of equal merit. 
 
 The constitution being signed and made public, with the 
 names of the gentlemen proposing themselves as trustees and 
 foundei s, the design was so well approved of by the public 
 
84 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 for experimental philosophy, and propose speedily to complete 
 it. The Logaman library, one of the best collections in 
 America, will shortly be opened ; so that neither books nor 
 instruments will be wanting ; and as we are determined always 
 to give good salaries, we have reason to believe we may have 
 always an opportunity of choosing good masters ; 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, we may occasionally make use of your 
 friendship and judgment. 
 
 If it suits your convenience to visit Philadelphia before you 
 return to Europe, I shall be extremely glad to see and con 
 verse with you here, as well as to correspond with you after 
 your settlement in England; for an acquaintance and com 
 munication with men of learning, virtue, and public spirit, ig 
 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 
 enclosed. They had (however imperfect) the desired success, 
 being followed by a subscription of four thousand pounds, 
 towards carrying them into execution. 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. 
 
 1 1 am very respectfully, &c. 
 Mr. Smith. 1 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 SIR, Philad. May 3, 1753. 
 
 { 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 suitable persons, to carry it into exe 
 cution ; 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 noirvvhen I have read a piece 
 that has more affected me so noble and just are the senti 
 ments, so warm and animated the language ; yet as censure 
 from your fnends may be of more use as well as more agree 
 able to you than praise, I ought to mention, that I wish you 
 
 $ The name given to the principal or head of the ideal col 
 lege, the system of education in which hath nevertheless been 
 nearly realized, or followed as a model, in the college and 
 academy of Philadelphia, and some other American seminaries, 
 for many years past 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 85 
 
 had omitted not only the quotation from the Review,[f which 
 you are now justly dissatisfied 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 proposed to nave 
 written to you ; but omits it, as he expects soon to have the 
 pleasure of seeing you here. He desires me to present his 
 affectionate compliments 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, &c. 
 
 Mr. Smith. < B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 < DEAR SIR < Philad. Nov. 27, 1753. 
 
 Having written 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 they dread entering into new engagements till they are 
 got out of debt ; and I have 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 pro 
 mised myself in seeing you settled among us, vanishes into 
 smoke. 
 
 I But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that no endeavors 
 of his shall be wanting ; and he hopes, with the archbishop s 
 assistance, to be able to prevail with our proprietors. 1F I pray 
 God grant them success. 
 
 My son presents his affectionate regards, with 
 Dear Sir, yours, &c. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN.* 
 
 II 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 Cam 
 bridge, and was expunged from the following editions of this 
 work. 
 
 7 Upon the application of Archbishop Herring and P. Collin 
 
34 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 for experimental philosophy, and propose speedily to complete 
 it. The Loganian library, one of the best collections in 
 America, will shortly be opened ; so that neither books nor 
 instruments will be wanting ; and as we are determined always 
 to give good salaries, we have r jason to believe we may have 
 always an opportunity of choosing good masters ; 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, we may occasionally make use of your 
 friendship and judgment. 
 
 If it suits your convenience to visit Philadelphia before you 
 return to Europe, I shall be extremely glad to see and con 
 verse with you here, as well as to correspond with you after 
 your settlement in England; for an acquaintance and com 
 munication 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 
 enclosed. They had (however imperfect) the desired success, 
 being followed by a subscription of four thousand pounds, 
 towards carrying them into execution. 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. 
 
 1 1 am very respectfully, &c. 
 Mr. Smith. B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 SIR, < PMad. May 3, 1753. 
 
 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 suitable persons, to carry it into exe 
 cution ; 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 nolrvvhen I have read a piece 
 that has more affected me so noble and just are the senti 
 ments, so warm and animated the language ; yet as censure 
 from your fr jends may be of more use as well as more agree 
 able to you than praise, I ought to mention, that I wish you 
 
 $ The name given to the principal 01 head of the ideal col 
 lege, the system of education in which hath nevertheless been 
 nearly realized, or followed as a model, in the college and 
 academy of Philadelphia, and some other American seminaries, 
 for many years past 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLEN. 85 
 
 had omitted not only the quotation from the Review,f[ which 
 you are now justly dissatisfied 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 proposed to have 
 written to you ; but omits it, as he expects soon to have the 
 pleasure of seeing you here. He desires me to present hig 
 affectionate compliments 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. 
 
 <Iam,&c. 
 
 Mr. Smith. < B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 DEAR SIR PJulad. Nov. 27, 1753. 
 
 Having written 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 they dread entering into new engagements till they are 
 got out of debt ; and I have 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 pro 
 mised myself in seeing you settled among us, vanishes into 
 smoke. 
 
 But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that no endeavors 
 of his shall be wanting ; and he hopes, with the archbishop s 
 assistance, to be able to prevail with our proprietors.lT I pray 
 God grant them success. 
 
 My son presents his affectionate regards, with 
 <Dear Sir, yours, &c. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 II 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 Cam 
 bridge, and was expunged from the following editions of this 
 work. 
 
 1 Upon the application of Archbishop Herring and P. Collin 
 
86 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 P. S. T have not been favored with a line from you since 
 your arrival in England. 
 
 DEAR Sir, < Philad. April 18, 1754. 
 
 I have had but one letter from you since your arrival ir 
 England, which was but a short one, via Boston, dated 
 October 18th, acquainting me that you had written largely by 
 Captain Davis. Davis was lost, and with him your letters, 
 to my great disappointment. Mesnard 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 propose 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, Captain Budden s 
 ship, which is daily expected, I only add, that I am with great 
 esteem and affection, 
 
 * Yours, &c. 
 
 Mr. Smith. 1 < B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 About a month after the date of this last .letter, the gentle 
 man to whom it was addressed arrived in Philadelphia, and 
 was immediately placed at the head of the seminary ; whereby 
 Dr. Franklin and the other trustees were enabled to prosecute 
 their plan, for perfecting the institution, and opening the 
 college upon the large and liberal foundation on which it now 
 stands : for which purpose, they obtained their additional 
 charter, dated May 27th, 1755. 
 
 Thus far we thought it proper to exhibit in one view Dr. 
 Franklin s services in the foundation and establishment of 
 this seminary. He soon afterward 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 remainder of his life, (as will appear in our subsequent 
 account of the same,) he had but few opportunities of taking 
 any farther active part in the affairs of the seminary, 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 amongst the new 
 trustees, yet he declined to take his seat among them, or any 
 
 son, Esq. at Dr. Franklin s request (aided by the letters of Mr 
 illen and Mr. Peters,) the Hon. Thomas Penn, Esq. subscribed 
 an annual sum, and afterward gave at least 50001. to the 
 founding or engrafting the college upon the academy. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 87 
 
 concern in the management of their affairs, till the institution 
 was restored 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 at their desire, lest he might be too much 
 injured by his attention to their business, he suffered them to 
 meet at the college. 
 
 Franklin not only gave birth to many useful institutions 
 himself, but he was also instrumental in promoting 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, con 
 ceived the idea of establishing a hospital. Notwithstanding 
 very great exertions on his part, he was able to interest few 
 people so far in his benevolent plan, as to obtain subscriptions 
 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 influence with his friends, and by 
 stating the advantageous influence of the proposed institution 
 in his paper. These efforts were attended with success. 
 Considerable 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 oppo 
 sition, 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 sup 
 posed would never take place, were silent, and the bill passed. 
 The friends of the plan rww redoubled their efforts to obtain 
 subscriptions to the amount stated in the bill, and were soon 
 successful. This was the foundation of the Pennsylvanian 
 Hosjjitalj which, with the Bettering House and Dispensary, 
 boars ample testimony of the humanity of the citizens of 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well in the office of 
 postmaster, 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 postmaster-general for the British 
 colonies. The profits arising from the postage of letters formed 
 no inconsiderable part of the revenue, which the crown of 
 Great Britain derived from these colonies. In the hands of 
 
88 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Franklin, 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 depredations 
 on their frontiers by the Indians ; and, more particularly, 
 whenever a war took place between France and England. 
 The colonies, individually, were hitherto too weak to take 
 efficient measures for their own defence, or they were, unwil 
 ling to take upon themselves the whole burden of creeling 
 forts and maintaining garrisons, whHst their neighbors, who 
 partook equally with themselves of the advantages" contributed 
 nothing to the expense. 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 regulate this ana other matters, 
 appeared a desirable object. To accomplish this, in the year 
 1754, commissioners from New-Hampshire, Massachusetts. 
 Rhode Island, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, 
 met at. Albany. Dr. Franklin attended here as a commis 
 sioner from Pennsylvania, and produced a plan, which, from 
 the place of meeting, has been usually termed, " The Albany 
 Plan of Union. This proposed that application should be 
 made for an act of parliament, to establish in the colonies a 
 general government, to be administered by a president-generah, 
 appointed by the crown, and by a grand council, consisting 
 of members, chosen by the representatives of .the .jdiilerent 
 colonies ; their number being in direct proportion 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 legis 
 lation was lodged 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 
 was to declare war and peace, and to conclude treaties 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, and 
 tit out armed vessels, and to use other means for the general 
 defence ; and, to effect these things, a power was g-tven to 
 make laws, laying such duties, imposts, or taxes, -as they 
 should find necessary, and as would be least burdensome to 
 the people. All laws were to be sent to England for the 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 89 
 
 kind s approbation ; and, unless disapproved of within three 
 yrars, were to remain in force. All officers of the land or 
 sea service were to be nominated by the president-general, 
 au J approved of by the general council ; civil officers were to 
 b>; nuaiinated by the council, and approved of by the presi- 
 d. iit. Such arc the outliues of the plan proposed, .fur the 
 consideration of the congress, by Dr. Franklin. After sev 
 eral days discussion, it was unanimously agreed to by the 
 commissioners, 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 i 
 gave" too much power to the representatives of the people 
 and it was rejected by every assembly, as giving to the presi 
 dent-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 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 prevented 
 the separation of America from Great Britain, is a question 
 which might afford much room for speculation. 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 articles, 
 of which, as our manufacturers were discouraged, we stood 
 in need, at a price greater than that for which they could 
 have been obtained from other nations, must inevitably pro 
 duce dissatisfaction, even though no duties were imposes 
 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 viewgj and would, therefore, refuse to assent to any laws, 
 however salutary to the community, which had the mos^. 
 remote tendency 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 in 
 stance, prefer the advantage of his own dominions to that of 
 his colonies. Hence would ensue perpetual disagreemen 
 
90 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 between the council and the president-general, and thus 
 between the people of America and the crown of Great 
 Britain : while the colonies continued weak, they would be 
 obliged to submit, and as soon as they acquired strength, 
 they would become 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 back of 
 the British settlements. They were disposed, from time to 
 time, to establish posts within the territory, which the Eng 
 lish claimed as their own. Independent of the injury to the 
 fur trade, which was considerable, the colony suffered this 
 farther inconvenience, that the Indians were frequently insti 
 gated to commit depredations on their frontiers. In the year 
 1753, encroachments were made upon the boundaries of Vir 
 ginia. Remonstrances had no effect. In the ensuing year, 
 a body of men was sent out under the command of Mr. 
 Washington, who, though a very young man, had, by his con 
 duct in the preceding year, shown himself worthy of such an 
 important trust. Whilst marching to take possession of the 
 post at the juncture of the Allegany and Monongahela, he 
 was informed that the French had already erected a fort 
 there. A detachment of their men marched against him. 
 He fortified himself as s rongly as time and circumstances 
 would admit. A superiority of numbers soon obliged him 
 to surrender Fort Necessity. He obtained honorable terms 
 for himself and men, and returned to Virginia. The govern 
 ment of Great Britain now thought it necessary to interfere. 
 In the year, 1755, General Braddock, with some regiments 
 of regular troops and provincial 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 prevented the expedition. This was the want of 
 wagons. Franklin now stepped forward, and with the assist 
 ance of his son, in a little time procured a hundred and 
 fifty. Braddock unfortunately fell into an ambuscade, and 
 perished, with a number of his men. Washington, who had 
 accompanied him as an aid-de-camp, and had warned him, 
 m vain, of his danger, now displayed great military talents 
 in effecting a retreat of the remains of the army, and in 
 forming a junction with the rear, under Colonel Dunbar, upon 
 whom the cliief command now devolved. With some diffi 
 culty they brought their little body to a place of safety, but 
 ihey found it necessary to destroy their wagons and bag- 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 91 
 
 gage, to prevent them from falling into the hands of the 
 enemy. For the wagons, which he had furnished, Franklin 
 had given bonds to a large amount. The owners declared 
 their intention of obliging him to make a restitution of their 
 property. Had they put their threats into execution, ruin 
 must inevitably have been the consequence. Governor 
 Shirley, finding that he had incurred those debts for the 
 service of the government, made arrangements to have them 
 discharged, and released Franklin from his disagreeable situ 
 ation. 
 
 The alarm spread through the colonies, after the defeat of 
 Braddock, was very great. Preparations to arms were 
 everywhere made. In Pennsylvania, the prevalence 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 prin 
 ciples would not suffer them to fight, they had no objection to 
 their neighbors fighting for them. In consequence of this 
 act, a very respectable militia was formed. The sense of 
 impending danger infused a military spirit in all, whose 
 religious tenets were not opposed to war. Franklin was ap 
 pointed colonel of a regiment in Philadelphia, which consisted 
 of 1200 men. 
 
 The north-western frontier being invaded by the enemy, it 
 became necessary to adopt measures for its defence. Frank 
 lin was directed by the governor to take charge of this. 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 necessary. Here he built a fort, and placed the garri 
 son in such a posture of defence, as would enable them to 
 withstand the inroads to which the inhabitants had been 
 previously exposed. He remained here for some time, in 
 order the more completely to discharge the trust committed 
 to him. Some business of importance at length rendered 
 his presence necessary in the Assembly, and he returned t 
 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. Sh 
 
92 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 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 injurious, but extremely advan 
 tageous to the mother country. In comparison with the 
 profits of this, the expense of maintaining armies and fleets 
 to defend them was trifling. She fought to keep them de 
 pendent upon her for protection; the best plan which could 
 be devised for retaining them in peaceable subjection. The 
 least appearance of a military spirit was therefore to be 
 guarded against; and, although a war then raged, the act 
 of organizing 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 intrusted to regular 
 troops. 
 
 The disputes between the proprietaries and the people 
 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 governors constantly refused 
 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 relict. A petition was addressed to the king, in council, 
 stating the inconveniences under which the inhabitants la 
 bored, from the attention of the proprietaries to their private 
 interests, to the neglect of the general welfare of the com 
 munity, and praying for redress. Franklin was appointed 
 to present this address, as agent for the province of Penn 
 sylvania, and departed from America in June, 1757. In 
 conformity to the instructions which he had received from 
 the legislature, he held a conference with the proprietaries 
 who then resided in England, and endeavored to prevail 
 upon them to give up the long-contested point. Finding 
 that they would hearken to no terms of accommodation, he 
 laid his petition before the council. During this time, Gov 
 ernor Denny assented to a law imposing a tax, in which no 
 discrimination was made in favor of the estates of the Penn 
 family. They, alarmed at this intelligence, and Franklin s 
 exertions, used their utmost endeavors to prevent the royal 
 sanction being given to this law, which they represented as 
 highly iniquitous, designed to throw the burden of support 
 ing government upin them, and calculated to produce the 
 most ruinous consequences to them and their posterity.-* 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 93 
 
 The cause was amply discussed before the privy council. 
 The Perms found here some strenuous advocates ; nor were 
 there wanting some who warmly espoused the side of the 
 people. After some time spent in debate, a proposal wa? 
 made, that Franklin should solemnly engage, that the assess 
 ment of the tax should be so made, as that the proprietary 
 estates should pay no more than a due proportion. This 
 "ne agreed to perform, the Penn family withdrew their op 
 position, and tranquillity was thus once more restored to the 
 province. 
 
 The mode in which this dispute was terminated, is a 
 striking proof of the high opinion entertained of Franklin s 
 integrity and honor, even by those who considered him as 
 inimical to their views. Nor was their confidence ill-founded. 
 The assessment was made upon the strictest principle of 
 equity ; and the proprietary estates bore only a proportionable 
 share of the expenses of supporting government. 
 
 After the completion of this important business, Franklin 
 remained at the court of Great Britain, as agent for the 
 province of Pennsylvania. The extensive knowledge which 
 he possessed of the situation of the colonies, and the regard 
 which he always manifested for their interests, occasioned 
 his appointment to the same office by the colonies of Mas 
 sachusetts, Maryland, and Georgia. His conduct in this 
 situation, was such as rendered him still more dear to his 
 countrymen. 
 
 He had now an opportunity of indulging in the society of 
 those friends, whom his merits h&i p/ocured him while &. a, 
 distance. The regard which they had entertained for him 
 was rather increased by a personal acquaintance. The op 
 position 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 transactions, now thought it an honor 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 degree of 
 Doctor of Laws. Its example was followed by the universities 
 of Edinburgh and Oxford. His correspondence was sought 
 for by the most eminent philosophers of Europe. His letters 
 to these abound with true science, delivered in the most simple 
 unadorned mariner. 
 
 The province of Canada was at this time in the possession 
 of the French, who had originally settled it. The trade with 
 
94 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 the Indians, for which its situation was very convenient, was 
 exceedingly lucrative. The French traders here found a 
 market for their commodities, 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 
 advantageous to France, it was a grievous inconvenience to 
 the inhabitants of the British colonies. The Indians were 
 almost generally desirous to cultivate the friendship 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 frontiers : and this they frequently 
 did, even when Great Britain and France were at peace". 
 From these considerations it appeared to be the interest of 
 Great Britain to gain possession of Canada. But the im 
 portance of such an acquisition was not well understood 
 in England. Franklin about this time published his Canada 
 pamphlet, in which he, in a very forcible manner, pointed out 
 the advantages which would result from the conquest of this 
 province. 
 
 An expedition against it was planned, and the command 
 given to General Wolfe. His success is well known. At 
 the treaty in 1762, 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 occupied with 
 political pursuits, he found time for philosophical 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 but lately observed. 
 
 Some experiments on the cold produced by evaporation, 
 made by Dr. Cullen, had been communicated to Dr. Franklin, 
 by Professor Simpson, of Glasgow. These hevepeated, and 
 found, that, by the evaporation of ether in the exhausted 
 receiver of an air-pump, so great a degree of cold was pro 
 duced in a summer s day, that water was converted into ice. 
 This discovery he applied to the solution of a number of phe 
 nomena, particularly a singular fact, which philosophers had 
 endeavored in vain to account for, viz. that the temperature 
 of the human body, when in health, never exceeds 96 degrees 
 of Fahrenheit s thermometer, although the atmosphere which 
 surrounds it may be heated to a much greater degree. This 
 he attributed to the increased perspiration, and "consequent 
 evaporation, produced by the heat. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 95 
 
 In a letter to Mr. Small, of London, dated in May, 1760, 
 Dr. Franklin makes a number of observations, tending to 
 show that, in North America, northeast storms begin in the 
 southwest parts. It appears, from actual observation, that 
 a northeast storm, which extended a considerable distance, 
 commenced at Philadelphia nearly four hours before it was 
 felt at Boston. He endeavored to account for this, by sup 
 posing that, from heat, some rarefaction takes place about 
 the gulf of Mexico, that the air farther north being cooler 
 rushes in, and is succeeded by the cooler and denser air still 
 farther north, and that thus a continued current is at length 
 produced. 
 
 The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a drinking glass 
 with a wet finger had been generally known. A Mr. Pucke- 
 ridge, an Irishman, by placing on a table a number of glasses 
 of different sizes, and tuning them by partly filling them with 
 water, endeavored to form an instrument capable of playing 
 tunes. He was prevented, by an untimely end, from bringing 
 his invention to any degree of perfection. After his death, 
 some improvements were made upon his plan. The sweet 
 ness 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 Armonica. 
 
 In the summer of 1762, he returned to America. On his 
 passage he observed the singular effect produced by the agita- 
 uon of a vessel, containing oil floating on water. The sur 
 face of the oil remains smooth and undisturbed, whilst the 
 water is agitated with the utmost commotion. No satisfac 
 tory explanation of this appearance has, we believe, ever been 
 given. 
 
 Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the Assembly of Penn- 
 ylvania, 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 compensation of 5000L 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 Pennsylvania he again 
 took his seat in this body, and continued a steady defender o. 
 the liberties of the people. 
 
 In December, 1762, a circumstance which caused great 
 alarm in the province took place. A number of Indians hau 
 resided in the county of Lancaster, and conducted themselves 
 uniformly as friends to the white inhabitants. Repeated 
 depredations on the frontiers had exasperated the inhabitant* 
 
96 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 to such a degree, that they determined on revenge upon even 
 Indian. A number of persons, to the amount of about 120 
 principally inhabitants of Donegal 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 been reduced 
 to about twenty. The Indians received intelligence of the 
 attack which was intended against them ; but disbelieved it. 
 Considering the white people as their friends, they appre 
 hended no danger from them. When the party arrived at the 
 Indian settlement, thev found only some women and children, 
 and a few old men, the rest being absent at work. They 
 murdered all whom they found, and amongst others the chief 
 Shaheas, who had always been distinguished for his friend 
 ship to the whites. This bloody deed excited much indigna 
 tion in the well-disposed part of the community. 
 
 The remainder of these unfortunate Indians, who, by 
 absence, had escaped this massacre, were conducted to Lan 
 caster, and lodged in the jail as a place of security. The 
 Governor issued a proclamation, expressing the strongest dis 
 approbation of the action, offering a reward for the discovery 
 of the perpetrators of the deed, and prohibiting all injuries to 
 the peaceable Indians in future. But notwithstanding this, 
 a party of the same men shortly after marched to Lancaster, 
 broke open the jail, and inhumanly butchered the innocent 
 Indians who had been placed there for security. Another 
 proclamation was issued, but I nad no effect. A detachment 
 inarched down to Philadelphia, for the express purpose of 
 murdering some friendly Indians, who had been removed to 
 the city for safety. A number of the citizens armed in their 
 defence. The quakers, whose principles are opposed to 
 fighting, even in their own defence, were most active upon 
 this occasion. The rioters came to Germantown. The 
 Governor 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 prevail upon them 
 to relinquish their undertaking, and return to their homes. 
 
 The disputes between the proprietaries and the Assembly, 
 
 e disputes between the proprie 
 h, for a time had subsided, w 
 
 which, for a time had subsided, were again revived. Th 
 proprietaries were dissatisfied with the concessions made in 
 lavor of the people, and made great struggles to recover the 
 
 Cilege of exempting their estates from taxation, which they 
 been induced to give up. 
 
 In 1763, the Assembly passed a militia bill, to which the 
 Governor refused to give his assent, unless the Assembly 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. W 
 
 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 
 snould be appointed altogether by himself, and not be nomi-. 
 nated by the people, as the bill had proposed. These amend 
 ment the Assembly considered as inconsistent with the spiri- 
 of liberty. They would not adopt them ; the Governor was 
 obstinate, and the bill was lost. 
 
 These and various other circumstances increased the un 
 easiness which subsisted between the proprietaries and the 
 Assembly to such a degree, that, in 1764, a petition to the 
 King was agreed to by the house, praying an alteration from 
 a proprietary to a regal government. Great opposition was 
 made to this measure, not 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 show the impropriety and impolicy of this 
 proceeding. A speech of Mr. Galloway, in reply to Mr, 
 Dickenson, was published, accompanied with a preface by Dr. 
 Franklin ; in which he ably opposed the principles laid down 
 in the preface to Mr. Dickenson s speech. This application 
 to the throne produced no effect. The proprietary govern 
 ment was still continued. 
 
 At the election for a new Assembly, in the fall of 1764, the 
 friends of the proprietaries made great exertions to exclude 
 those of the adverse party ; and they obtained 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 Assembly, it appeared that there was still a 
 decided majority of Franklin s friends. He was immediately 
 appointed provincial agent, to the great chagrin of his ene 
 mies, who made a solemn protest against his appointment; 
 which was refused admission upon the minutes, as being 
 unprecedented. It was, however, published in the papers, and 
 produced a spirited reply from him, just before his departure 
 for England. 
 
 The disturbances produced in America by Mr. Grenville g 
 stampt act, and the opposition made to it, are well known. 
 Under the Marquis of Rockingham s administration, it ap 
 peared expedient to endeavor to calm the minds of the 
 colonists ; and the repeal of the odious tax was contemplated. 
 Amongst other means of collecting information on the disposi 
 tion of the people 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 striking 
 
98 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 proof of the extent and accuracy of his information, and th 
 facility with which he communicated his sentiments. He 
 represented facts in so strong a point of view, that the inex 
 pediency of the act must have appeared clear to every unpre 
 judiced 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, he learned from 
 the watermen the effect which a diminution of the quantity of 
 water in canals has, in impeding the progress of boats. Upon 
 his return to England, he was led to make a number of experi 
 ments, all of which tended to confirm the observation. These, 
 with an explanation of the phenomena, he communicated in a 
 letter to his friend, Sir John Pringle, which is among his 
 philosophical pieces. 
 
 In the following year he travelled into France, where he 
 met with a no less favorable reception than he had experienced 
 in Germany. He was introduced to a number of liierary 
 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 Mas 
 sachusetts, arid strenuously advised the prosecution of vigorous 
 measures, to compel the people to obedience to the measures 
 of the ministry. These he transmitted to the legistature, 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 letter? 
 produced a duel between Mr. Whately and Mr. Temple : 
 each of whom was suspected of having been instrumental in 
 procuring them. To prevent any farther disputes on this 
 subject, Di. Franklin, in one of the public papers, declaret 
 that he had sent them to America, but would give no informa 
 tion concerning the manner in which he had obtained them : 
 uor was this ever discovered. 
 
 Shortly after, the petition of the Massachusetts Assembly 
 was taken up for examination, before the privy council. Dr. 
 franklin attended as agent for the Assembly; and here a 
 onent of the most violent and unwarranted abuse was poured 
 ipon him by the solicitor-general, Wedderburne, who was 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN 90 
 
 engaged as council for Oliver and Hutchinson. Tne petition 
 was declared to be scandalous and vexatious, and the prayer 
 of it refused. 
 
 Although the parliament of Great Britain had repealed 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 
 ethers, 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 with supplies, in the mode to which they have been 
 accustomed ; that is, by acts of their own assemblies, in 
 consequence of requisitions from the Secretary of State. If 
 this practice had been pursued, such was the disposition of 
 the colonies towards their mother country, that notwithstand 
 ing the disadvantages under which they labored 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 ; 
 whose language, laws, and manners, were the same as their 
 own. They looked up to them as models of perfection ; 
 and, in their prejudiced minds, the most enlightened nations 
 of Europe were considered as almost barbarians, in com 
 parison with Englishmen. The name of an Englishman con 
 veyed to an American the idea of every thing good and great. 
 Such sentiments instilled into them in early life, what but a 
 
 chisement 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 
 ardent spirit of opposition. Instead of endeavoring 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 this only tended to aggravate. Vain 
 
100 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 were 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 consequences 
 which must ensue from a continuance of the attempt. They 
 persevered with a degree of inflexibility scarcely paralleled. 
 
 The advantages which Great Britain derived from her 
 colonies were so great, that nothing but a degree of infatua 
 tion, little short of madness, could have produced a continuance 
 of measures calculated to keep up a spirit of uneasiness, 
 which might occasion the slightest wish for a separation. 
 When we consider the great improvements in the science of 
 government, the general 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 
 oiisj.ring of the American Revolution, it cannot but appear 
 strange, that events of so groat moment to the happiness oi 
 mankind, should have been ultimately occasioned by the 
 wickedness or ignorance of a British ministry. 
 
 Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail upon the minis 
 try to consent to a change of measures. In private conversa 
 tions, and in letters to persons of government, he continually 
 expatiated upon the impolicy and injustice of their conduct 
 towards America ; and stated, that, notwithstanding the at 
 tachment of the colonists to the mother country, a repetition 
 of ill-treatment must ultimately alienate their arlections. 
 They listened not to his advice. They blindly persevered in 
 their own schemes, and left to the colonists no alternative, 
 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, returned to America, 
 in the year 1775 ; just after the commencement of hostilities. 
 The day after his return he was elected by the legislature 
 of Pennsylvania a delegate to Congress. Not long after 
 his election a committee was appointed, consisting of Mr. 
 Lynch, Mr. Harrison, and himself, to visit the camp at 
 Cambridge, and, in conjunction with the commander-in- 
 clrief, to endeavor to convince the troops, whose term of 
 enlistment was about to expire, of the necessity of their con 
 tinuing in the field, and persevering in the cause of their 
 country. 
 
 In the fall of the same year he visited Canada, to endeavor 
 
LIFE AND ESSAY S, OF FRANKLIN. 101 
 
 to unite them in the common cause, o f hjberty ,; itaf th ey cpijid 
 not be prevailed upon to oppose ihe n.-easwes of he t) . iiv v b 
 government. M. le Roy, in a letter annexed to Abbe Fau- 
 chet s eulogium of Dr. Franklin, states, that the ill-success 
 of this negotiation was occasioned, in a great degree, by 
 religious animosities, which stibsisted between the Canadians 
 and their neighbors, some of whom had, at different times, 
 burnt their chapels. 
 
 When Lord Howe came to America, in 1776, vested with 
 power to treat with the colonists, a correspondence took place 
 between him and Dr. Franklin on the subject of a reconcilia 
 tion. Dr. Franklin was afterward appointed, together with 
 John Adams and Edward Rutledge, to wait upon *he com- 
 missioners, in order to learn the extent of their powers. 
 These were found to be only to grant pardons upon submission. 
 These were terms which would not be accepted ; and the 
 object of the commissioners could not be obtained. 
 
 The momentous question of independence was shortly 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 indeed, but ignorant of discipline, 
 and entirely unskilled in the art of war, without money, 
 without a fleet, without allies, and with nothing but the love 
 of liberty to support them, the colonists determined to separale 
 from a country, from which they had experienced a repetition 
 of injury and insult. In this question, Dr. Franklin was 
 decidedly in favor of the measure proposed, and had great 
 influence in bringing others over to his sentiments. 
 
 The public mind had been already prepared for the evmt, 
 by Mr. Paine s celebrated pamphlet, Common Sense. There 
 is good reason to believe that Dr. Franklin had no incon 
 siderable 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 fot 
 the state of Pennsylvania, Dr7 Franklin was chosen president. 
 The late constitution of this state, which was the result of 
 their deliberations, may be considered as a digest of his prin 
 ciples of government. The single legislature, and the plural 
 executive, seemed to have been his favorite tenets. 
 
 In the latter end of 1776, Dr. Franklin was appointed to 
 assist at the negotiation which had been set on foot by Sifas 
 Deane, at the court of France. A conviction of the advan- 
 tages of a commercial intercourse 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 
 
102 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 l-jut. they sfco vfed ratfeer a reactance to the measure, whici 
 W Div Fi inklings address , and particularly by the success 
 of the American arms against General Burgoyne, was at 
 length overcome; and in February, 1778, a treaty of alliance, 
 offensive and defensive, was concluded ; in consequence 
 of which, France became invoked in the war with Great 
 Britain. 
 
 Perhaps no person could have been found more capable of 
 rendering essential services to the United States at the court 
 of France than Dr. Franklin. He was well known as a phi 
 losopher, and his character was held in the highest estimation. 
 He was received with the greatest marks of respect by 
 all the literary characters ; and his respect was extended 
 amongst all classes of men. His personal influence was 
 hence very considerable. To the effects of this was added 
 those of various performances which he published, tendin? 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 negotiated in Holland and France, 
 which greatly contributed to bring the war to a happy con 
 elusion. 
 
 The repeated ill-success of their arms, and more particu 
 larly the capture of Cornwallis and his army, at length con 
 vinced the British nation of the impossibility of reducing the 
 Americans to subjection. The trading interest particulnrty 
 became clamorous for peace. The ministry were unable 
 longer to oppose their wishes. Provisional articles of peace 
 were agreed to, and signed at Paris, on the 30th of Novem 
 ber, 1782, by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. 
 Lanrens, on the part of the United States; and by Mr. Os 
 wald on the part of Great Britain. These formed the basis 
 A the definitive treaty, which was concluded the 3d of Sep- 
 ember, 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. 
 
 Dr. Franklin did not suffer his political pursuits to engross 
 his whole attention. Some of his performances made their 
 appearance in Paris. The object of these was generally the 
 promotion of industry and economy. 
 
 In the year 1784, when animal magnetism made great nois 
 in the world, particularly at Paris, it was thought a matter of 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 103 
 
 such importance, that the King appointed commissioners to 
 examine into the foundation 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 num 
 ber of experiments in the presence of the commissioners, some 
 of which were tried upon themselves, they determined it was 
 a mere trick, intended to impose upon the ignorant and credu 
 lous. Mesmer was thus interrupted in his career to wealth 
 and fame, and a most insolent attempt to impose upon the 
 human understanding baffled. 
 
 The important ends of Dr. Franklin s mission being com 
 pleted by the establishment of American independence, and 
 the 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 1785. Sometime in September of the same 
 year, Dr. Franklin arrived in Philadelphia. % He was shortly 
 after chosen a 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 Philadelphia in 
 1787, for the purpose of giving more energy to the government 
 
 of the Union, by revising and amending the articles of confede 
 ration, Dr. Franklin was appointed a delegate from the State 
 of Pennsylvania. He signed the constitution which they pro 
 posed for the union, and gave it the most unequivocal marks 
 of his approbation. 
 
 A society for political inquiries, of which Dr. Franklin was 
 president, was established about this period. The meetings 
 were held at his house. Two or three essays read in this 
 society were published. It did not long continue. 
 
 In the year 1787, two societies were established in Phila 
 delphia, founded on the principles of the most liberal and 
 refined humanity. The Philadelphia Society for alleviating 
 the miseries of public persons ; and the Pennsylvanian Society, 
 for promoting the abolition of Slavery, the relief of free negroes 
 unlawfully held in bondage, and the improvement of the condi 
 tion of the African race. Of each of these Dr. Franklin was 
 president. The labors of these bodies have been crowned 
 with great success; and they continue to prosecute, with 
 unwearied diligence, the laudable designs for which they were 
 established. 
 
 Dr. Franklin s increasing infirmities prevented his regular 
 attendance at the council-chamber; and, in 1788, he retired 
 wholly from public life. 
 
104 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 His constitution had been a remarkable good one. He haf 
 been little subject to disease, except an attack of the gout 
 occasionally, until about the year 1781, when he \vas first 
 attacked with symptoms of the calculous complaint, which 
 continued during his life. During the intervals of pain from 
 this grievous disease, he spent many cheerful hours, convers 
 ing 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 12th of February, 1789, praying 
 them to exert the full extent of power vested in them by the 
 constitution, in discouraging the traffic of the human species. 
 This was his last public act. In the debates to which this 
 memorial 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 sect called JSrika, or purists, 
 for the abolition of piracy and slavery. This pretended Af 
 rican speech was an excellent parody of one delivered by Mr. 
 Jackson of Georgia. All the arguments urged in favor of 
 negro slavery, are applied with equal force to justify the 
 plundering and enslaving of Europeans. It affords, at the 
 same time, a demonstration of the futility of the arguments 
 m defence of the slave-tr tue, 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 im 
 itating the style of other times and nations than his celebrated 
 parable against persecution. And as the latter led many 
 persons 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 ex 
 tracted.* 
 
 In the beginning of April following, he was attacked with a 
 fever and complaint of his breast, which terminated his exist 
 ence. The following account of his illness was written by his 
 friend and physician, Dr. Jones. 
 
 < The stone, with 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 paroxisms, he wai 
 obliged to take large doses of laudanum to mitigate his ton. 
 
 * This speech will be found among his Essays 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 105 
 
 tures still, in the intervals of pain, he not only amused him 
 self with reading and conversing cheerfully with his family, 
 and a few mends wno visited him, but was often employed in 
 doing business of a public as well as private nature, with 
 various persons 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 characteristic 
 of his life, but the fullest and clearest possession of his uncom 
 mon mental abilities ; and not unfrequently indulged himself 
 in those jeux d esprit and entertaining anecdotes, which were 
 the delight of all who heard him. 
 
 < 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 the left breast, which increased till it became 
 extremely acute, attended with a cough and laborious breath 
 ing. During this state, when the severity of his pains some 
 times drew forth a groan of complaint, he would observe 
 that he was afraid ne did not bear them as he ought ac 
 knowledged 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 made 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 him. In this 
 frame of body and mind he continued till five days before 
 his death, when his pain and difficulty of breathing entirely 
 left him, and his family were flattering themselves with the 
 hopes of his recovery, when an imposthumation, which had 
 formed itself in his lungs, suddenly 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 respiration became gradually oppressed a 
 calm lethargic state succeeded and, on the 17th of April, 
 1790, about eleven o clock at night, he quietly 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 pleurisy, which ter 
 minated in an abcess of the left lobe of his lungs, and he was 
 then almost suffocated 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. 
 
106 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 The following epitaph on himself, was written by him many 
 years previous to his death 
 
 THE BODr 
 
 OF 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 
 Printer, 
 (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 
 
 in a new 
 
 and more beautiful edition, 
 corrected and amended 
 
 by 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 EXTRACTS 
 
 FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OP 
 
 DR. FRANKLIN. 
 
 WITH regard to my books, those I had in France, and 
 those I left in Philadelphia, being now assembled together 
 nere, and a catalogue made of them, it is my intention to dis 
 pose of the same as follows: 
 
 My History of the Academy of Sciences, in sixty or 
 seventy volumes quarto, I give to the philosophical society of 
 Philadelphia, of which I have the honor to be president. My 
 collection in folio of Les Arts et les Metiers, I give to tho 
 American philosophical society, established in New-England, 
 of which I am a member. My quarto edition of the same, 
 Arts et les Metiers, I give to the library company of Phila 
 delphia. 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 hereby 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. 
 My share in the library company of Philadelphia, I give to 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 107 
 
 my grandson Benjamin Franklin Bache, confiding 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 in- 
 tructions 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 directors of the free-schools in 
 my native town of Boston, to be by them, or the person or 
 persons who shall have the superintendence and management 
 of the said schools, put out to interest, and so continued at 
 interest 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 a 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 president 
 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 
 ^tate, by an act of assembly, shall appoint to receive the 
 same, in trust to be employed in making the Schuvlkil navi 
 gable. 
 
 During the number of years I was in business as a stationer, 
 printer, and postmaster, a great many small sums became 
 due to me, for books, advertisements, postage of letters, and 
 other matters, which were not collected, when, in 1757, 1 was 
 sent by the Assembly to England as their agent and by 
 subsequent appointments continued there till 1775 when, on 
 my return, I was immediately engaged in the affairs of con 
 gress, and sent to France in 1776, where I remained nine 
 years, not returning till 1785; and the said debts not being 
 demanded in such a length of time, have 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 contrib- 
 : utors of the Pennsylvania hospital, hoping that those debtors, 
 and the descendants of such as are deceased, who now, as I 
 find, make some difficulty of satisfying such antiquated de 
 mands as just debts, may, however, be induced to pay or give 
 them as charity to that excellent institution. I am sensible 
 that much must be inevitably lost ; but I hope something con 
 siderable may be recovered. It is possible, too, that some of 
 J- die parties charged may have existing old unsettled accounts 
 igainst me : in which case the managers of the said hospital, 
 will allow and deduct the amount, or pay the balance, if they 
 5nd it against me. 
 
108 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 I request my friends, Henry Hill, Esq. John Jay, Esq. 
 Francis Hopkinson, and Mr. Edward Duffield, of Bonfield, is 
 Philadelphia county, to be the executors of this my last will 
 and testament, and I hereby nominate and appoint them for 
 
 I would have my body buried with as little expense or cere* 
 mony as can be. 
 PHILADELPHIA, July 17, 1788. 
 
 I, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, in the foregoing or annexed last 
 will and testament, having farther considered the same, do 
 think proper to make arid publish the following codicil, or ad 
 dition thereto : 
 
 It having long been a fixed and political opinion of mine, 
 that in a democratical state there ought to be no offices of 
 profit, for the reasons I have 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 
 thousand pounds more to the state, for the purpose of making 
 the Schuylkil navigable ; but understanding since, that such a 
 sum would do but little towards accomplishing such a work, 
 and that the project is not likely to be undertaken for many 
 years to come and having entertained another idea, which I 
 hope may be 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 estate 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 ancestor or relation. I shall, however, if it 
 is not diminished by some accident before my death, leaver 
 considerable es4ate among my descendants and relations. The 
 above observation is made merely as some apology to my 
 family, for making bequests that do not appear to have any 
 immediate relation to their advantage. 
 
 I was born in Boston, in New-England, and owe my first 
 instructions in literature to the free grammar-schools estab 
 lished there. I have therefore considered those schools in my 
 will. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 109 
 
 But I am also under obligations to the state of Massachu 
 setts, 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 
 artizans, good apprentices are most likely to make good citi 
 zens ; and having myself been bred to a manual art, printing, 
 m my native town, and afterward assisted to set up my busi 
 ness in Philadelphia by kind loans of money from two friends 
 there, which was the foundation of my fortune, and of all the 
 utility in life that may be ascribed to me I wish to bo 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 devote two thousand pounds sterling, which 
 I give, one thousand 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, hereinafter mentioned and de 
 clared. 
 
 The said sum of one thousand pounds sterling, if accepted 
 by the inhabitants of the town of Boston, shall be managed 
 under the direction of the select men, united with the ministers 
 of the oldest episcopalian, congregational, and presbyterian 
 churches of that town, who are to let out the same upon inte 
 rest, at five per cent, per annum, to such young married 
 artificers, under the age of twenty-five years, as have served 
 an apprenticeship 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 citizens, who are 
 willing to become sureties in a bond, 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 cur 
 rent gold com : and the manager 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 institution, and of 
 their sureties, together with the sums lent, the dates, and other 
 necessary and proper records, respecting the business and 
 concerns" of this institution , and as these loans are intended 
 to assist young married artificers in setting up their business, 
 they are to be proportioned by the discretion of the managers, 
 
110 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 BO 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 suffice to afford to every one some 
 assistance, these aids may therefore 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 
 in their turn, as well as to make the repayment of the princi 
 pal 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 presumed, that there 
 will always be found in Boston, virtuous and benevolent citi 
 zens, willing to bestow a part of their time in doing good to 
 the rising generation, by superintending 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 
 continually augmenting by the interest, in which case there 
 may in time be more than the occasion in Boston may re 
 quire ; and then some may be spared to the neighboring or 
 other towns in the said State of Massachusetts, which may 
 desire to have it, such towns engaging to pay punctually the 
 interest, and the proportions of the principal, annually to the 
 inhabitants of the town of Boston. If this plan is executed, 
 and succeeds, as projected, without interruption for one hun 
 dred years, the sum will then be one hundred and thirty-one 
 thousand pounds ; of which I would have the managers of 
 the donation to the town of Boston then lay out, at their dis 
 cretion, one hundred thousand pounds in public works, which 
 may be judged of most general utility to the inhabitants: such 
 as fortifications, bridges, aqueducts, public buildings, baths, 
 pavements, or whatever may make living in the town more 
 convenient to its people, and render it more agreeable to 
 strangers resorting thither for health, or a temporary resi 
 dence. 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 con- 
 luct of youth, and been of service to many worthy charac- 
 ers and useful citizens. At the end of this second term, if 
 .10 unfortunate accident has prevented the operation, the sum 
 ivill be four million and sixty-one thousand pounds sterling. 
 >f which I leave one million and sixty-one thousand pounds 
 to the disposition and management of the inhabitants of the 
 town of Boston, and three millions to the disposition of the 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. Ill 
 
 government of the state ; not presuming to carry my views 
 farther. 
 
 All the directions herein given respecting the disposition 
 and management of the donation to the inhabitants of Boston, 
 I would have observed respecting that to the inhabitants of. 
 Philadelphia ; only as Philadelphia is incorporated, I request 
 the corporation of that city to undertake the management, 
 agreeable to the said directions ; and I do hereby vest them 
 with full and ample powers for that purpose. And having 1 
 considered that the covering i,ts ground-plat witli buildings 
 and pavement, 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 use, as I find has happened in all old 
 cities; I recommend, 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 Wiifahickon creek into the town, so as to sup 
 ply the inhabitants, which I apprehend may be done without 
 great 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 hundred years, I would have the dis 
 position of the four million and sixty-one thousand pounds 
 divided between the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia 
 and the government of Pennsylvania, in the same manner as 
 herein directed with respect to that of the inhabitants of Bos 
 ton and the government 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, within 
 six months after my decease, to pay over the said sum of two 
 thousand pounds sterling to such persons as shall be appointed 
 bv the selectmen of Boston, and the corporation of Philadel 
 phia, and tr receive and take charge of their respective sum 
 of one thousand pounus each for the purposes aforesaid 
 Considering the accidents to which aH human affairs an 
 projects are subject in such a length of time, I have perhap* 
 to.o much flattered myself with a vain fancy, that these disposi 
 tions, if carried inlo execution, will be continued without inter 
 ruption, and have the effects proposed ; I hope, however 
 that if the inhabitants of the two cities should not think fit to 
 
-12 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 undertake the execution, they will at least accept the offer of 
 those donations, as a marl: of my good-will, token of my grali- 
 tM ie, and testimony of my desire to be useful to them even 
 af er my departure. I wish, indeed, that they may both un- 
 rlertake to endeavor the execution of my project, because, 
 think, that, though unforeseen difficulties may arise, expedi 
 ents will be found to remove them, and the scheme be found 
 practicable. If one of them accepts the money with the con- 
 d tions, and the other refuses, my will then is, that both sums 
 &,- given to the nhabitants t>f the city accepting; the whole 
 to be applied to the same purposes, and under the same regu 
 lations 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 has merited it, and would become it. 
 
 ESSAYS, 
 
 HUMOROUS, MORAL, AND LITERARY. 
 
 ON EARLY MARRIAGES. 
 
 To John Alleyn, Esq. 
 DEAR JACK, 
 
 You desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on the subjeci 
 of an early marriage, by way of answer to the numberless 
 objections that have been made by numerous 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 obser 
 vation, 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 uncomplying, as when 
 more advanced in life ; they form more easily to each other, 
 and hence, many occasions of disgust are removed. And if 
 youth has less of that prudence which is necessary to manage 
 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 
 sooner formed to regular and useful life ; and possibly some 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 113 
 
 f those accidents, or connexions, that might have injured the 
 constitution, or reputation, or both, are thereby happily pre 
 vented. Particular circumstances of particular persons, may 
 possibly sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into 
 i,hat state ; but, in general, when nature has rendered our bodies 
 fit for it, the presumption is in nature s favor, that she has 
 not judged amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages are 
 often attended, too, with this farther inconvenience, that there 
 is not the same chance that the parents should live to see 
 their offspring educated. Late children, says the Spanish 
 proverb, are early orphans. A melancholy reflection to 
 those whose case it may be ! With us in America, mar 
 riages are generally in the morning of life : our children are 
 therefore educated and settled in the world by noon : and 
 thus our business being done, we have an afternoon and even 
 ing of cheerful leisure to ourselves, such as our friend at pre 
 sent enjoys. By these early marriages we are blessed with 
 more children; and from the mode among us, founded by 
 nature, of every mother suckling and nursing her own child, 
 more of them are raised. Thence the swift progress of popu 
 lation among us, unparalleled in Europe. In fine, I am glad 
 you are married, and congratulate you most cordially upon 
 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 conditions, find, at 
 length, that is too late to think of it, and so live all their lives 
 in a situation that greatly lessens a man s value. An odd 
 volume of a set of books, bears not the value of its proportion 
 to the set ; what think you of the odd half of a pair of scissors ; 
 it can t well cut any thing ; it may possibly serve to scrape a 
 trencher. 
 
 Pray make my compliments and best wishes acceptable 
 to your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should 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 any 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 will be rich. 
 Be sober and temperate, and you will be healthy. Be in 
 general virtuous, and you will be happy. At least, you will, 
 by such conduct, stand the best chance for such consequen 
 ces. I pray God to bless you both ! being ever your affec 
 tionate friend, 
 
 8 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
114 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER, 
 
 MR. JOHN FRANKLIN 
 
 To JWw 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 pre 
 paration 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 immortals, 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 to our fellow-creatures, is a kind 
 and benevolent act of God. When they become unfit for 
 these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, in 
 stead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer none of 
 the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind 
 ^.nd benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get 
 rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some 
 tases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled painful 
 limb, which cannot be restored, wo 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 liable 
 to, or capable of making him suffer. 
 
 Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of plea 
 sure which is to last for ever. His chair was ready first ; 
 and he is 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, 
 
 10 THE LA TE 
 
 DR. MATHER, OF BOSTON. 
 
 REV. SIR, 
 
 I RECEIVED your kind letter with your excellent advice to 
 the people of the United States, which I read with great 
 pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings, 
 thoueh thc;v m ay be lightly passed over by many readers, yet 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN 115 
 
 if they make a deep impression on one active mind in a hun 
 dred, the effects may be considerable. 
 
 Permit me to mention one little instance, which, though it 
 relates to myself, will not be quite uninteresting to you. When 
 I was a boy, I met with a book entitled Essays to do good, 
 vhich I think was written by your father. It had been so 
 little regarded by a former possessor, that several leaves of it 
 were torn out; 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. We 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 the beginning of 1724, when I visited 
 him after my first trip to Pennsylvania. He received me in 
 his library ; and, on my taking leave, showed me a shorter 
 way out of the house, through a narrow passage, which was 
 crossed by a beam over head. We were still talking as I 
 withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly 
 towards him, when he said hastily, Stoop ! stoop !* 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 head, has frequently been of use to me ; and 
 I often think of it, when I see pride mortified, and misfor 
 tunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads too 
 high. 
 
 I long much to see again my native place ; and once hoped 
 to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. I visited it in 1733, 
 1743, 1753, 17C3 ; and in 1773 I was in England. In 1774, 
 I had a sight of it, but could not enter, it being in possession of 
 the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783, but could 
 not obtain my dismission from this employment here; and 
 now I fear I shall never have that happiness. My best 
 wishes however attend my dear country, esto perpetual It 
 is now blessed with an excellent constitution : may it last for 
 ever! 
 
 This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for the 
 
116 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 United States. It is a friendship of the utmost importance to 
 our security, and should be carefully cultivated. Britain has 
 not yet well digested the loss of its dominion over us ; and has 
 still at times some flattering hopes of recovering it. Accidents 
 may increase those hopes, and encourage dangerous attempts. 
 A breach between us and France wouM infallibly bring the 
 English again upon our backs ; and yet we have some wild 
 beasts among our countrymen, who are endeavoring to weaken 
 hat connexion. 
 
 Let us preserve our reputation, by performing our engage 
 ments; 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, 
 
 t have the honor to be 
 
 Rev. Sir, 
 Your most obedient and 
 
 MoSL ln^nible servant, 
 
 3. FRANK* - 
 Passy, May 12th, 178l 
 
 THE WHISTLE. 
 A True Story Written to his Nephew. 
 
 WHEN I was a child, at seven years oM, my friends, on a 
 holiday, filled my pockets with coppers. I went directly to a 
 shop where they sold toys for children ; 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 whistling all over the house, 
 much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the family. 
 My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bar 
 gain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for 
 it as it was worth. This put me in mind what go d 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 vexatim, 
 and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave 
 me pleasure. 
 
 This, however, was afterward of use to me, the impression 
 continuing on my mind ; so that often, when I wa tempted 1o 
 buy some unnecessary thing. I said to myself, Don t give too 
 much for the whistle; and so I saved my money. 
 
 As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions 
 of men, 1 thought 1 met with many, very many, who gave too 
 muckjor the wlustle. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 117 
 
 When I saw any one too ambitious of court favors, sacrifi- 
 ficing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, 
 his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have said to 
 myself, Tins man gives too muck for his whistle. 
 
 When I saw another found of popularity, constantly em 
 ploying himself in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, 
 and ruining them by that neglect ; He pays, indeed, says I, 
 too much for his whistle. 
 
 If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfortable 
 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 man, says I, you do 
 indeed pay too much for your whistle. 
 
 When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable 
 improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal 
 sansations ; Mistaken man, 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 equi 
 pages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and 
 ends his career in prison; Alas t says I, he has paid dear, very 
 dear, for his whistle. 
 
 VVnen I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, married to an 
 ill-natured brute of a husband ; What a pity it is, says I, that 
 Wie has paid so much for a whistle. 
 
 In short, I conceived that great part of the miseries of man 
 kind were brought upon them by the false estimates they had 
 made of the value of tilings, and by their giving too much for 
 their whistles. 
 
 A PETITION 
 
 To those who have the Superintendency of Education. 
 I ADDRESS myself to all the friends of youth, and conjure 
 them to direct their compassionate regards to my unhappy fate, 
 in order to remove the prejudices of which I am the victim. 
 There are twin sisters of us : and the two eyes of man do not 
 more resemble, nor are capable of being on better terms with 
 each other than my sister and myself, were it not for the 
 partiality of our parents, who made the most injurious distinc 
 tions between us. From my infancy, I have been led to 
 consider my sister as a being of more elevated rank. I was 
 Buffered to grow up without the least instruction, while nothing 
 was spared in her education. She had masters to teach hei 
 writing, drawing, music, and other accomplishments ; but if 
 
118 LIFE AND ESSAYS *OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 by chance, I touched a pencil, a pen, or a needio, 1 was 
 bitterly rebuked ; and more than once I have been beaten for 
 being awkward, 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 instigated 
 merely by vanity No : my uneasiness is occasioned by ap 
 object much more serious. It is the practice in our family, 
 that the whole business of providing for its subsistence falls 
 upon my sister and myself. If any indisposition should attack 
 my sister and I mention it in confidence upon this occasion, 
 that she is subject to the gout, the rheumatism, 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 another in transcribing the request which 
 I have now the honor to prefer to you. 
 
 Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible of the 
 injustice of an exclusive tenderness, and of the necessity of 
 distributing their care and affection among all their children 
 squally. I am, with profound respect, 
 
 Sirs, Your obedient servant, 
 
 THE LEFT HAND. 
 
 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 different views in which they 
 consider things, persons, arid events ; and the effect of those 
 different views upon their own minds. In whatever situation 
 men can be placed, they may find conveniences and inconve 
 niences ; in whatever company, they may find persons and con 
 versation more or less pleasing; at whatever table, they may 
 meet with 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 government, they will 
 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 beauties : in almost every face, and every person, they may 
 diccover fine features and defects, good and bad qualities. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 119 
 
 Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people above- 
 mentioned fix their attention ; those who are disposed to be 
 harjpv, on the conveniences of things, the pleasant parts of con- 
 ?rs ation, the well-dressed dishes, the goodness of the wines, 
 ie fine weather, &c. and enjoy all with cheerfulness. Those 
 vho are to be unhappy, think and speak only of the contraries. 
 H^nce they are continually discontented themselves, and, 
 hv thair remarks, sour the pleasures of society ; offend per 
 sonally many people, and make themselves everywhere dis 
 agreeable. If this turn of mind was founded in nature, such 
 unhanjry persons would be the more to be pitied. But as 
 the disposition to criticise, and to be disgusted, is, perhaps, 
 taken up originally by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into 
 a nabit, which, though at present strong, may nevertheless 
 be cured when those who have it are convinced of its bad 
 effect on their felicity ; I hope this little admonition may b 
 of service to them, and put them on changing a habit, which, 
 though in the exercise it is chiefly an act of imagination, yet 
 it 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 shows them more than the 
 most common civility and respect, and scarcely that ; and this 
 frequently puts them out of humor, and draws them into dis 
 putes and contentions. If they aim at obtaining some advan 
 tages in rank or fortune, nobody wishes them success, or will 
 stir a step, or speak a word to favor their pretensions. If 
 they incur public 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 nut 
 change this bad habit, and condescend to be pleased with 
 what is pleasing, without fretting themselves or others about 
 the contraries, it is good for others to avoid an acquaintance 
 with them, which is always disagreeable, and sometimes very 
 inconvenient, especially when one finds one s self entangled 
 in their quarrels. 
 
 An old philosophical friend of mine was grown from ex 
 perience, very cautious in this particular, and carefully, 
 avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, like other 
 philosophers, a thermometer to show him the heat of the 
 weather; and a barometer to mark when it was likely to 
 prove good or bad ; but there being no instrument invented 
 to discover, at first sight, this unpleasing disposition in a 
 person, he, for that purpose, made use of his legs ; one of 
 which was remarkably handsome ; the other, by some acci 
 dent, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at first interview, 
 
120 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 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 philoso 
 pher to have no further acquaintance with him. Every body 
 has riot this two-legged instrument ; but every one, with 9 
 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 ad 
 vise those critical, querulous, discontented, unhappy people, 
 if they wish to be respected and beloved by others, and 
 happy in themselves, they should leave qff looking at the 
 ugly leg. 
 
 CONVERSATION OF A COMPANY OF EPHEMERjG. 
 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 garden 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 
 shown numberless skeletons 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 engaged 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 language. I listened through curiosity to the 
 discourse of these little creatures ; but as they, in their na 
 tional vivacity, spoke three or four together, I could make 
 but little of their conversation. I found, however, by some 
 broken expressions that I heard now and then, they were 
 disputing warmly on the merit of two foreign musicians, one 
 a cousin, the other a moschcto ; in which dispute they spent 
 their time, seeming as regardless of the shortness of their 
 life as if they had been sure of living a month. Happy 
 people, thought I, you live certainly under a wise, just, and 
 mild government, since you have no public grievances to 
 complain of, nor any other subject of contention but the per 
 fections or imperfections of foreign music. I turned my head 
 from them to an old gray-headed one, who was single on 
 another leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his 
 soliloquy, I put it down in writing, in hopes it will likewise 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 121 
 
 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 philosophers of 
 our race, who lived and flourished long before my time, that 
 this vast world, the Moulin 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 light to all nature, and which in my time 
 has evidently declined considerably towards the ocean at the 
 end of the earth, it must then finish its course, be extinguished 
 in the waters that surround us, and leave the world in cold 
 and darkness, necessarily producing universal death and de 
 struction. 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 expire. 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 common 
 course of nature, though still in health, I cannot expect to live 
 above seven or eight minutes longer. What now avails all 
 my toil and labor in amassing honey-dew on this leaf, which 
 I cannot live to enjoy. What my political struggles I have 
 been engaged in, for the good of my compatriot inhabitants of 
 this bush, or my philosophical studies for the benefit of our 
 race in general : (for in politics what can laws do without 
 morals?) our present race of ephemera will in a course of 
 minutes become corrupt, like those of other and older bushes, 
 and consequently as wretched ! And in philosophy how small 
 our progress. 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 7 and what will become of 
 all history in the eighteenth hour, when the world itself, even 
 the whole Moulin Joly, shall come to its end, and be buried 
 in a universal ruin ? 
 
 To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid, pleasures now 
 remain,, but the reflection of a long life, spent in meaning well, 
 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. 
 
122 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 MORALS OF CHESS. 
 
 PLAYING at chess is the most ancient and universal game 
 known among men ; for its original is beyond the memory of 
 history, and it has, for numberless ages, been the amusement 
 of all the civilized nations of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, 
 and the Chinese. Europe has had it above at.housand*years , 
 the Spaniards have spread it over their part of America, and 
 it begins to make its appearance in these States. It is so 
 interesting in itself, as not to 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, can 
 not 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, shows, at the 
 same time, that it may, in its effects on the mind, be not 
 merely innocent, but advantageous to the vanquished as well 
 as the victor. 
 
 The game of chess is not merely an idle amusement. 
 Several very 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 points to gain, and competi 
 tors or adversaries to contend with, and in which there is a 
 vast variety of good and ill events, that are, in some degree, 
 the effects of prudence or the want of it. By playing at ches? 
 then, we learn, 
 
 I. Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, considers 
 the consequences that may attend an action ; for it is contin 
 ually occuring to the player, If I move this piece, what 
 will be the advantage of my new situation 1 What use can 
 my adversary make of it to annoy me 1 What other moves 
 can I make to support it, and to defend myself from his 
 attacks V 
 
 II. Circumspection, 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 probabili 
 ties that the adversary may make 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 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 123 
 
 game, such as, If you touch a piece, you must move i; 
 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 more becomes the image of human life, and par 
 ticularly of war ; in which if you have incautiously put your 
 self into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot obtain 
 your enemy s leave to withdraw your troops, and place them 
 more securely, but you must abide all the consequences of 
 your rashness. 
 
 And, lastly, we learn by chess the habit of not being dis 
 couraged by present bad appearances in the state of our ajfairs, 
 the habit of hoping for a favorable, change, and that of perse 
 vering 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 vicissitudes, and one so frequently, afier 
 long contemplation, discovers the means of extricating one s 
 self from a supposed insurmountable difficulty, that one is 
 encouraged to continue the contest to the last, in hope of 
 victory by our own skill, or at least of giving a stale mate, by 
 the negligence of our adversary. And whoever considers, 
 what in chess he often sees instances of, that particular pieces 
 of success are apt .to produce presumption, and its consequent 
 inattention, by which the loss may be recovered, will learn not 
 to be too much discouraged by the present success of his 
 adversary, nor to despair of final good fortune, upon every 
 little check he receives in the pursuit of it. 
 
 That we may, therefore, be induced more frequently to 
 choose this beneficial amusement, in preference to others, 
 which are not attended with the same advantages, every 
 circumstance which may increase the pleasure of it should be 
 regarded ; and every action or word that is unfair, disre 
 spectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should be 
 avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of bolh the 
 plavers, which is to pass the time agreeably. 
 
 Therefore, first, If it is agreed to play according to the strict 
 rules, then those rules are to be exactly observed by both 
 parties, and should not be insisted on for one side, while de 
 viated from by the other for this is net, equitable. 
 
 Secondly, If it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, 
 but one party demands indulgences, he should then be as 
 willing to allow them to the other. 
 
 Thirdly, No false move should ever be made to extricate 
 yourself out of a difficulty, or to gain an advantage. Therf 
 can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected n 
 such unfair practices. 
 
124 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Fourthly, If your adversary is long in playing, you ought 
 not to hurry him, or to express any uneasiness at his delay. 
 You should* not sins, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor 
 take up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your feet oo 
 the floor, or with yonr finders 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 endeavor to amuse and deceive 
 yur 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 have gained a victory, 
 use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too 
 much pleasure ; but endeavor 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 un 
 derstand the game better than I, but you are a little inatten 
 tive ; or, you play too fast: or, you had the best of the game, 
 but something happened to divert your thoughts, and that 
 turned it in my favor. 
 
 Seventhly. If you are a spectator while others play, observe 
 the most perfect silence. For if you give advice, you offend 
 bath parties ; him against whom you gave it, because it may 
 cause the loss of his game ; and him in whose favor you gave 
 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 occurred to himself. Even after a move, or moves, 
 you must not, by replacing the pieces, show how it might have 
 oeen placed better; for that displeases, and may occasion 
 disputes and doubts about their true situation. All talking to 
 the players lessens or diverts their attention, 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 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, accord 
 ing to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your desire 
 of victory over your adversary, and be pleased with one over 
 yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage offered by 
 his unskilfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly, 
 lhat by such a move he places or leaves a piece in danger ami 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 125 
 
 unsupported ; that by another he will put his king in a per- 
 "cus situation, &c. By this generous civility (so opposite to 
 the unfairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to 
 Jjse the game to your opponent, but you will win what is better, 
 his esteem, his respect, and his affection ; together with the 
 silent approbation and good-will of impartial spectators. 
 
 THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS. 
 Inscribed to Miss * * *, 
 
 BEING WRITTEN AT HER REQUEST. 
 
 Asa 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 obtain the one kind, and 
 avoid the other ; for whether real or imaginary, pain is pain, 
 and pleasure is pleasure. If we can sleep without dream 
 ing, it is well that painful dreams are avoided. If, while 
 we sleep, we can have any pleasing dreams, it is, as the 
 French say, tant gagne, 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 temperance ; 
 for, in sickness, the imagination is disturbed ; and disagree 
 able, 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, occasions nightmares and hor 
 rors inexpressible: we fall from precipices, are assaulted by 
 wild beasts, murderers, and demons, and experience every 
 variety of distress. Observe, 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 
 exercise, should eat little. In general, mankind, since the 
 improvement of cookery, eat about twice as much as nature 
 requires. Suppers are not bad, if we have not dined ; but 
 -stless nights naturally follow hearty suppers, af er full din 
 ners. Indeed, as there is a difference in constitutions, sorno 
 rest well after these meals ; it costs them onlv a frightful 
 dream and an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. 
 Nothing is more common in the newspapers, than instances 
 
126 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 af people, who, after eating a hearty supper, are found dead 
 abed in the morning. 
 
 Another meaus 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 sleeping in rooms exactly 
 closed, and in beds surrounded by curtains. No outward air, 
 that may come in to you, is so unwholesome as the un 
 changed air, often breathed, of a close chamber. As boiling 
 water does not grow hotter by longer boiling, if the particles 
 that receive greater heat can escape ; so living bodies do not 
 putrify, if the particles, as fast as they become putrid, can be 
 thrown oiF. 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 onlv to spoil a gallon of air per minute, 
 and therefore requires a longer time to spoil a chamberful ; 
 but it is done, however, in proportion, and many putrid disor 
 ders have hence their origin. It is recorded of Methusalem, 
 who bein-T 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 
 him, Arise, Methusalem, and build thee a 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 a house I will sleep 
 in the open 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 then be cured of the aerophobia 
 that at present distresses weak minds, and makes them 
 choose to be stifled and poisoned, rather than leave open 
 the window of a bed-chamber, or put down the glass of a 
 coach. 
 
 Confined air, when saturated with perspirable matter,* will 
 
 * What physicians call the perspirablo matter, is that vapo. 
 which passes off from our bodies, from the lun^s, and through 
 the pores of the skin. The quantity of this is said to be five 
 eights of what we eat 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 127 
 
 not receive more ; and that matter must remain 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 sensation, and to the pores of the skin a kind of rest 
 lessness which is difficult to describe, and few that feel it know 
 Jie cause of it. But we may recollect, that sometimes, on 
 waking in the night, we have, if warmly covered, found it 
 difficult to sleep again. We turn often, without finding 
 repose in any position. This fidgettiness, 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 perspira 
 ble matter the bed-clothes having received their quantity, 
 and being saturated, refusing to take any more. To become 
 sensible of this by an experiment, let a person keep his posi 
 tion in the bed, but throw off the bed-clothes, and suffer 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 receiv 
 ing its part of that vapor, receives therewith a degree of heat 
 that rarifies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed 
 away, with its burden, by cooler and therefore heavier fresh 
 air ; which, for a moment, supplies 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 dis 
 tinctly by the comparison, and the seat of the uneasiness 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 unpleasing 
 dreams. For when the body is uneasy, the mind will be 
 disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of various kinds will, 
 in sleep, be the natural consequences. The remedies, pre 
 ventive 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 satu 
 rated ; 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 
 
128 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 will suffer the perspirable matter more easily 10 pass through 
 them, we are less incommoded, such being 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 meanwhile, continuing undrest, walk about your cham 
 ber, 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 to your 
 bed ; and you will soon fall asleep, and your sleep will be 
 sweet and pleasant. All the scenes presented to your fancy 
 will be of the pleasing kind. I am often as agreeably enter 
 tained 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 ; this, repeated twenty times, will so clear them 
 of the perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to permit your 
 sleeping well for some time aiterward. 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 shifting of beds would 
 also be of great service to persons ill of a fever, as it refreshes 
 and frequently procures sleep. A very large bed, that will 
 admit a 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 lit le 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 render it less tolerable, and the uneasiness may come on 
 you 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 intended, there 
 is a case in which the most punctual observance of them will 
 be totally fruitless. I do not mention the case to you, my dear 
 friend : but my account of the art would be imperfect without 
 it. The case is, when the person who desires to have the 
 pleasant dreams, has not taken care to preserve, what is 
 ixecessary above all things, 
 
 A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 129 
 
 ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. 
 Written anno 1748. 
 
 TO MY FRIEND, A.B. 
 
 4.4 you have desired it of me, I write the following hints, which 
 
 have been of service to me, and may, if observed, he so to you. 
 
 REMEMBER that time is money. He that can earn ten 
 shillings a day by his labor, and goes abroad, or sits idle one 
 half of that day, though he spends but sixpence 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 
 fie 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 threepence : and so on till it becomes a 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 thou 
 sandth generation. He that murders a crown, destroys aD 
 that it might have produced, even scores of pounds. 
 
 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 credit may, on his own 
 security, have the constant possession and use of a hundred 
 pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious 
 man, produces great advantage. 
 
 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 
 any occasion, raise all the money 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, than punctuality and justness in all his dealings : there 
 fore never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time 
 you promised, lest a disappointment shu* up your friend s 
 purse for ever. Q 
 
130 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 The most trifling actions that affect a man s credit are to 
 be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the 
 morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, 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 shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe : 
 it makes you appear a careful as well as an honest 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. To prevent this, keep an exact account, 
 for some time, both of your expenses and your income. If 
 you take the pains at first to mention particulars, it, will have 
 this good effect; you will discover how wonderfully small 
 trifling expenses mount up to large sums, and will discern 
 what might have been, and may for the future be saved 
 without occasioning any great inconvenience. 
 
 In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as 
 the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, indus 
 try and frugality ; that is, waste neither time nor money, but 
 make the best use of both. Without industry and frugality 
 nothing will do, and with them every tiling. He that gets all 
 he can honestly, and saves all he gets (necessary expenses 
 excepted.) will certainly become rich if that Being, who 
 governs the world, to whom all should look for a blessing on 
 their honest endeavors, doth not in his wise providence other 
 wise 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 mav have the use of one hun 
 dred pounds, provided you are a u*an of known prudence and 
 honesty. 
 
 He that spends a groat a day jiy, 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 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 131 
 
 day with another, wastes the privilege of using one hundred 
 pounds each day. 
 
 He that idly loses five shillings worth of time, loses five 
 shillings, and might as prudently throw five shillings into the 
 
 He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but all 
 the advantages 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 interest for the 
 use of it. 
 
 Yet, in buying goods, it is best to pay readv money, bp- 
 cause, he that sells upon credit, expects to lose five per cent, 
 by bad debts ; therefore, he charges, on all he sells upon credit, 
 an advance that shall make up that deficiency. 
 
 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 twopence clear; 
 A pin a day is a groat 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 will be an act of kindness to inform the moneyless 
 now they may reinforce their pockets. I will acquaint them 
 with the true secret of money-catching the certain way to fill 
 ninpty purses and how to keep them always full. Two sim 
 ple rules, well observed, will do the business. 
 
 First, Let honesty and industry be thy constant companions ; 
 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 bellyache ; neither will 
 creditors insult thee, nor want oppress, nor hunger bite, nor 
 nakedness freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will shine 
 brighter, and pleasure spring up in every corner of thy heart. 
 Now, therefore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish 
 the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live indepen- 
 
132 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 den;. Then shall 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 inde 
 pendency, whether with little or much, is good fortune, and 
 piaceth 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, ana 
 never forget to have a penny, when all thy expenses are enu 
 merated and paid : then shall thou reach the point of happi 
 ness, 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 halh riches, nor pocket an 
 abuse because the hand which offers it wears a ring sel with 
 diamonds. 
 
 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 by the 
 
 Author. 
 
 To the Authors of the Journal. 
 MESSIEURS, 
 
 You often entertain us with accounts of new discoveries. 
 Permit me to communicate to the public, through your paper, 
 one that has lately been made by myself, and which I con 
 ceive may be of great utilily. 
 
 I was the other evening in a grand company, where the new 
 lamp of Messrs, duinquet and Lange was introduced, and 
 much admired for its splendor ; but a general inquiry was made 
 whether tne oil il consumed was nol 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 on that point, which 
 all agreed ought to be known, it being a very desirable thing 
 to lessen, if possible, the expense of lighting our apartments, 
 when every other article of family expense was so much 
 augmented. 
 
 I was pleased to see this general concern for economy, for 
 I love economy exceedingly. 
 
 I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, 
 with my head full of the subject. An accidental sudden noise 
 waked me about six in the morning, when I was surprised to 
 find my room filled with light ; and I imagined at first, that a 
 number of those lamps had been brought into it ; but, rubbing 
 my eyes, I oerceived the light came in at the windows. I 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 133 
 
 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, which goes very well, and found that 
 it was about six o clock ; and still thinking it something extra 
 ordinary 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 earlier every day till towards 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 seldom regard the astrono 
 mical 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 con 
 vinced of this. I am certain of my fact. One cannot be more 
 certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And having 
 lepeated this observation the three following mornings, I found 
 always precisely the same result. 
 
 Yet it so happens, that when I speak of this discovery to 
 others, I can easily perceive by their countenances, though 
 thev f irbear expressing it in words, that they do not quite 
 believe me. One, indeed, who is a learned natural philoso 
 pher, 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 many ingenious arguments to show 
 me how I might, by that means, have been deceived. I own 
 that he puzzled me a little, but he did not satisfy me; and the 
 subsequent observations I made as above mentioned, 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 
 awakened 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 following night by candle-light ; and the 
 latter being a much more expensive light than the former, my 
 love of economy 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 tesf 
 
134 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 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 supposition, that 
 ..here 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 moderate 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 before 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 number of hours 1,281 
 
 These 1,281 hours, multiplied by 100,000, the 
 number of inhabitants given 128,100,000 
 
 One hundred and 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 pounds, 
 which, estimating the whole at the medium 
 price of thirty sols the pound, makes 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 economy of using sunshine instead of candles. 
 
 If it should be said, that people are apt to be obstinately 
 attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to induce 
 them to rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be 
 of little use ; I answer, Nil desperandum. 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 
 lise with him : ancPto compel the rest, I would propose the 
 following regulation : 
 
 First. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on every 
 window that is provided with shutters to keep out the light of 
 (he sun. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 13* 
 
 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 economical in burning wood ; that is, let 
 guards be placed in the shops of the wax and tallow-chandlers, 
 and no family be permitted to be supplied with more than one 
 pound of candles per week. 
 
 Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all the coaches, 
 &c. that would pass the streets after sunset, except those of 
 physicians, surgeons, and midwives. 
 
 Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the sun rises, let all the 
 bells in every church be set a ringing : and if that is not suffi 
 cient, let cannon be fired in every street, to 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 pre 
 sent irregularity ; for ce n est que le premier pas 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, having had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly 
 at four the following morning. But this sum of ninety-six 
 millions and seventy-five thousand livres is not the whole of 
 what may be saved by my economical project. You may 
 observe that I have calculated upon only one-half of the year, 
 and much may be saved in the other, though the days are 
 shorter. Besides, the immense stock of wax and tallow left 
 unconsumed during the summer, will probably make candles 
 mnch cheaper for the ensuing winter, and continue cheaper as 
 Ion? as the proposed reformation shall be supported. 
 
 For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely commu 
 nicated and bestowed by me on the public, I demand neither 
 place, pension, exclusive privilege, or any other reward what 
 ever. I expect only to have the honor of it. And yet I know 
 there are little envious minds who will, as usual, deny me this, 
 and say, that my invention was known to the ancients, arid 
 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 certain 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 soon as he 
 rose. This is what I claim as my discovery. If the ancients 
 Knew it, it must have been long since forgotten, for it certainly 
 Was unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians ; which 
 to prove, I need but use one plain simple argument. Thej 
 
136 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Are as well instructed, judicious, and prudent a people as exist 
 any where in the world, all professing, like myself, to be lovers 
 of economy ; and, from the many heavy taxes required from 
 them by the necessities of the state, have surely reason to be 
 economical. I say, it is impossible that so sensible a people, 
 under such circumstances, should have lived so long by the 
 smoky, unwholesome, and enormously expensive light of can 
 dles, if they had really known that they might have had as 
 much pure light of the sun for nothing. I am, &c. 
 
 AN ABONNE. 
 
 SKETCH OF AN ENGLISH SCHOOL. 
 For the Consideration of the Trustees of the Philadelphia 
 
 Academy. 
 
 IT is expected that every scholar to be admitted into this 
 school be at least able to pronounce and divide the syllables 
 in reading, and to write a legible hand. None to be received 
 that are under years of age. 
 
 FIRST, OR LOWEST CLASS. 
 
 Let 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 nearest 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 other 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 conscious 
 ness of which defect makes some men, otherwise 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 asCroxal s fables and little stories. In giving the lesson, 
 let it be read to them ; let the meaning of the difficult words 
 in it be explained to them ; and let them con it over by them 
 selves 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 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 137 
 
 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 num 
 ber 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 CLASS. 
 
 To be taught reading with attention, and with proper mod 
 ulations of the voice, according to the sentiment and the 
 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 con 
 struction of one or two sentences. This will oblige them to 
 recur frequently to their grammar, and fix its principal rules 
 in their memory. Next, of the intention of the writer, 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 neces 
 sary habit of reading with attention. 
 
 The master then to read the piece with the proper modula 
 tions 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 particularly remarked 
 to the youth. 
 
 Let the lessons for reading be varied, that the youth may 
 be made acquainted with good 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 letter, Wank 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 sfudy and understand 
 the lessons, before they are put upon reading them properly 
 ..o which end each bov should have an English Dictionary to 
 xelp him over difficulties. When our boys read English to 
 
138 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 us, we are apt to imagine they understand what they read, 
 because we do, and because it is their mother tongue. But 
 they often read as parrots speak, knowing little or nothing c. 
 the meaning. And it is impossible a reader should give the 
 due modulation to his voice, and pronounce properly, unless 
 his understanding goes before his tongue, and makes him 
 master of the sentiment. Accustoming boys to read aloud 
 what they do not first understand, 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 pood 
 one. For want of good reading, pieces published with a view 
 to influence the minds of men, for their own or the public 
 benefit, lose half their force. Were there but one good reader 
 in a neighborhood, 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. 
 
 THE THIRB CLASS. 
 
 To be taught speaking properly and jrraccfully, which is near 
 akin to good reading, and naturally follows it in the studies 
 of youth. Let the scholars of this class begin with learning 
 the elements of rhetoric, from soms short system, so as to 
 he able to give an account of the most useful tropes and 
 figures. Let all their bad habits of speaking, all offences 
 against good grammar, all corrupt or foreign accents, and all 
 improper phrases bo pointed out to them. Short speeches 
 from the Roman or other history, or from the parliamentary 
 debates, might be got by heart, and delivered with the proper 
 action, &c. Speeches and scenes in our best tragedies and 
 comedies, (avoiding every thing 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 manner afier the truest models. 
 
 For their farther improvement, and a little to vary their 
 studies, let then now begin to read history, after having got 
 by heart a short table of the principal epochs in chronology. 
 "They may begin with Rolhn s Ancient and Roman Histories, 
 and proceed at proper hours, as they go through the subse 
 quent, 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 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 139 
 
 them read with attention, and imprint the history well in their 
 memories. In remarking on the history, the master will have 
 fine opportunities of instilling instruction of various kinds, and 
 of improving the morals, as well as the understandings, of 
 youth. 
 
 The natural and mechanic history, contained in the Spec 
 tacle de la Nature, might also be begun in this class, and con 
 tinued 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 commodities in trade ; the handicraftsman 
 to improve his business by new instruments, mixtures, and 
 materials, and frequently hints are given for new methods of 
 improving land, that may be set on foot greatly to the advantage 
 of a country. 
 
 THE FOURTH CLASS. 
 
 Tt) be taught composition. Writing one s own language 
 well, is the next necessary accomplishment after good speaking. 
 It is the writing-master s business 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., containing 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 con 
 solation, of expostulation, excuse, &c. In these they should 
 be taught to express themselves clearly, consisely, and natu 
 rally, without, affected words or hiiih-flown phrases. All their 
 letters to pass through the master s hands, who is to point out 
 the faults, advise the corrections, and commend what he finds 
 right. Some of the best letters published in their own language, 
 as Sir William Temple 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 Mo 
 rality, 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 proper hours, receive some farther instruction in 
 
MO LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 chronology and in that, part of geography (from the mathemat 
 ical 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 con 
 tinued at suitable times. 
 
 THE 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 a variety 
 of expression, as the necessity o finding such words and 
 phrases, as will suit the measure, sound, and rhyme 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 correcting 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 ; or the circumstances 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 Noetica, or First Principles of 
 Human Knowledge, containing a logic, or art of reasoning, 
 &c., be read by the youth, and the difficulties that may occur 
 to them be explained by the master. The reading of history, 
 and the exercise of good reading, and just speaking, still con 
 tinued. 
 
 SIXTH CLASS. 
 
 In this class, besides continuing the studies of the prece 
 ding in history, rhetoric, logic, moral and natural philosophy, 
 the best English authors may be read and explained; as Til- 
 lotson, Milton, Locke, Addison, Pope, Swift, the higher 
 papers in the Spectator and Guardian, the best translations 
 of Homer, Virgil, and Horace, of Telemachus, Travels of 
 Cyrus, &c. 
 
 Once a year 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 learning, making three degrees of 
 comparison ; giving the best prize to him that perfo-ms best. 
 a less valuable one to him that comes up next to the best ; and 
 another to the third. Commendations, encouragement, and 
 advice to the rest, keeping up their hopes, that by industry 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 141 
 
 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 disposed 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 in 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 accomplish 
 ments ; the time usually spent in acquiring those languages, 
 often without succ.ess, being here employed in laying such a 
 foundation of knowledge and ability, as, properly improved, 
 may qualify them to pass through and execute the several 
 offices of civil life, with advantage and reputation to themselves 
 and country. 
 
 ON MODERN INNOVATIONS IN THE ENGLISH LAN 
 GUAGE AND IN PRINTING. 
 
 TO NOAH WEBSTER, JUJT. ESQ., AT HARTFORD. 
 
 DEAR SIR, Philadelphia, Dec. 26, 1789. 
 
 I RECEIVED sometime since your Dissertation on the Eng 
 lish Language. It is an excellent work, and will be greatly 
 useful in turning the thoughts of our countrymen to correct 
 writing. Please to accept my thanks for it, as well as for the 
 great hono you have done me in its dedication. I ought to 
 nave made this acknowledment sooner, but much indisposition 
 prevented me. 
 
 I cannot but applaud your zeal for preserving the purity of 
 our language both in its expression and pronunciation, and in 
 correcting the popular errors several of our states are cc-linu- 
 ally falling into with respect to both. Give me leave to men 
 tion some of them, though possibly they may have already 
 occurred to you. I wish, however, that in some future pub 
 lication of yours, you would set a discountenancing mark upon 
 them. The first I remember, is the word improved. When 
 I left New-England in the year 1723, this word had never 
 heen 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. Mather s, entitled Remarkable Providences. As that 
 
142 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 man wrote a very obscure hand, I remember that when I rea>* 
 that word in his book, used instead of the word employed,-*. 
 conjectured that it was an error of the printer, who had mis 
 taken a short I in the writing for an r, and a y with too short a 
 tail for a v, whereby employed was converted into improved: 
 but when I returned to Boston in 1733, 1 found this change 
 had obtained favor, and was the! become common ; for I met 
 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, which had been many 
 years improved as a tavern; and in the character of a deceased 
 country gentleman, that he had been, for more than thirty 
 years, improved as a justice of peace. This use of the word 
 improve is peculiar to New-England, and not to be met with 
 among many other speakers of English, either on this or on 
 the other side of the water. 
 
 During my late absence in France, I find that several other 
 new words have been introduced into our parliamentary lan 
 guage. For example, I find a verb formed from the substan 
 tive notice. I should not have noticed this, were it not that the 
 gentleman, &c. Also another verb from the substantive ad 
 vocate : The gentleman who advocates, or who has advocated 
 that motion, &c. Another from the substantive progress, the 
 most awkward and abominable of the three : The committee 
 having progressed, resolved to adjourn. The word opposed, 
 though not a new word, I find used in a new manner, as, The 
 gentlemen who are opposed to this measure, to which I have also 
 myself always been opposed. If you should happen to be of 
 my opinion, with respect to those innovations, you will use 
 your authority in reprobating them. 
 
 The Latin language, long the vehicle used in distributing 
 knowledge among the different nations of Europe, is daily 
 more and more neglected ; and one of the modern tongues, 
 viz. French, seems, 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 knowledge of it, to enable them easily to read the books that 
 are written in it. This gives a considerable advantage to 
 that nation. It enables its authors to inculcate and spread 
 through other nations, such sentiments and opinions, on im 
 portant points, as are most conducive to its interests, or which 
 may contribute to its reputation, by promoting the common 
 interests of mankind. It is, perhaps, owing to its being writ 
 ten in French, that Voltaire s Treatise on Toleration has had 
 so sudden and so great an effect on the bigotry of Europe, as 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 143 
 
 almost entirely to disarm it. The general use of the French 
 language has likewise a very advantageous 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 bookseller s shop 
 .corresponding with Paris. Our English bids fair to obtain 
 the second place. The great body of excellent printed ser 
 mons in our language, and the freedom 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 study it so far at least as to read it. And if 
 we were to endeavor 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 lan 
 guage, must have frequently observed, that while their ac 
 quaintance with it was imperfect, difficulties, small in them 
 selves, have operated as great ones in obstructing their progress. 
 A book, for example, ill printed, or a pronunciation in speaking 
 not well articulated, would render a sentence unintelligible, 
 which from a clear print or a distinct speaker, would have 
 been immediately comprehended. If, therefore, we would 
 have the benefit of seeing our language more generally known 
 among mankind, we should endeavor to remove all the difficul 
 ties, however small, that discourage 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 begun with a capital 
 in which we imitated our mother tongue the German. Thi 
 was more particularly useful to those who were not well ao 
 quainted with the English, there being such a prodigiou? 
 | number of our words that are both verbs and substantives, ana, 
 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 sup* 
 pressing the capitals shows the character to greater advantage; 
 those letters, prominent above the line, disturbing its even, 
 regular appearance. The effect of this change is so consid 
 erable, that a learned man of France, who used to read our 
 books, though not perfectly acquainted with our language, in 
 
144 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 conversation with me on the subject of our authors, attributed 
 the greater obscurity he found in our modern books, compared 
 with those of the period above mentioned, to a 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 para 
 graph, which he then easily understood, though before he could 
 not comprehend it. This shows the inconvenience of that 
 pretended improvement. 
 
 From the fondness for a uniform and even appearance of 
 characters in a 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 sentence, and words on which an empha 
 sis should be put in reading, used to be printed. And lately 
 another fancy has induced other printers to use the round * 
 instead of the long one, which formerly served well to distin 
 guish a word readily by its varied appearance. Certainly the 
 omitting the prominent letter makes a line appear more even, 
 but renders it less immediately legible, as the paring off all 
 men s noses might smooth their features, but would render 
 their physiognomies less distinguishable. Add to all these 
 improvements backwards, another modern fancy that gray 
 printing is more beautiful than black. Hence the English 
 new books are printed in so dim a character as to be read with 
 difficulty by old eyes, unless in a very strong light, and with 
 good glasses. Whoever compares a volume of the Grntlf 
 man s Magazine printed between the years 1731 and 1740, 
 with one of those printed in the last ten years, will be con 
 vinced of the much greater degree of perspicuity given by black 
 than by the gray. Lord Chesterfield pleasantly remarked 
 this difference to Faulkner, 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. Faulkner, 
 says my Lord, don t you think it might be still farther im 
 proved, by using paper and jnk not quite so near of a color ? 
 For all these reasons I cannot but wish our American 
 printers would, in their editions, avoid these fancied improve 
 ments, and thereby render their works more agreeable to for 
 eigners in Europe, to the great advantage of our bookselling 
 commerce. 
 
 Farther, to be more sensible of the advantage of clear and 
 distinct printing, let us consider the assistance it affords in 
 reading well aloud to an auditory. In so doing, the eve gen 
 erally slides forward three or four words before the voice. If 
 the sight clearly distinguishes what the coming words are, 
 t gives time to order the modulation of the voice to express 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 146 
 
 them properly. But if they are obscurely printed, or dis 
 guised by omitting the capitals or 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 sentence again ; which 
 lessons the pleasure of the hearers. This leads me to men 
 tion 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, therefore, a point called an interrogation, 
 affixed to the question, to distinguish it. But this is absurdly 
 placed at its end, so that the reader does not discover it till 
 he finds that he was wrongly modulating his voice, and is 
 therefore obliged to begin again the sentence. To prevent 
 this, the Spanish printers, more sensibly, place an interro 
 gation at the beginning as well as at the end of the question. 
 We have another error of the same kind in printing plays, 
 where something often occurs that is marked as spoken 
 aside. 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 printers to make it as 
 pleasing as possible, both to the reader and hearers. 
 My best wishes attend you, being with sincere esteem, 
 
 Sir, 
 Your most obedient and 
 
 Very humble servant. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT OF THE HIGHEST COURT OF JUDICATURE III 
 PENNSYLVANIA. 
 
 THE COURT OF THE PRESS. 
 Power of this Court. 
 
 IT may receive and promulgate accusations of all kinds, 
 against all persons and characters among the citizens of the 
 state, and against all inferior coarta ; and may judge, sea- 
 tence, and condemn to infamy, not only private individuals 
 but public bodies, c. with or without inouiry or hearing, at 
 the court s discretion. JQ 
 
146 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Whose favor, or for whose emolument this court is established. 
 
 In favor of about one citizen in five hundred, who, by edueju 
 don, or practice in scribbling, has accquired a tolerable style 
 as to grammar and construction, so as to bear printing ; or 
 who is possessed of a press and a few types. The five 
 hundredth part of the citizens have the liberty of accusing and 
 abusing the other four hundred and ninety-nine parts at their 
 pleasure ; or they may hire out their pens and press to others, 
 for that purpose. 
 
 Practice of this court. 
 
 It is not governed by any of the rules of the common courts 
 of law. The accused is allowed no grand jury to judge of 
 the truth of the accusation before it is publicly made ; nor is 
 the name of the accuser made known to him, nor has he an 
 opportunity of confronting the witnesses against him, for they 
 are kept in the dark, as in the Spanish court of inquisition. 
 Nor is there any petty jury of his peers sworn to try the 
 truth of the charges. The proceedings are also sometimes 
 so rapid, that an honest good citizen may find himself sud 
 denly and unexpectedly accused, and in the same moment 
 iuJged and condemned, and sentence pronounced against 
 him that he is a rogue and a villain. Yet if an officer 
 of this court receives the slightest check for misconduct in 
 this his office, he claims immediately the rights of a free 
 citizen by the constitution, and demands to know his accuser, 
 to confront the witnesses, and have a fair trial by the jury of 
 his peers. 
 
 The foundation of its authority. 
 
 It is said to be founded on an article in the state constitu 
 tion, which establishes the liberty of the press a liberty 
 which every Pennsylvanian would fight and die for, though 
 few of us, I believe, have distinct ideas of its nature and 
 extent. It seems, indeed, somewhat like the liberty of the 
 press, that felons have, by the common law of England, 
 before conviction ; that is, to be either pressed to death or 
 hanged. If by the liberty of the press, we understood merely 
 the liberty of discussing the propriety of public measures and 
 political opinions, let us have as much of it as you please ; 
 but if it means the liberty of affronting, calumniating, and 
 defaming one another, I, for my part, own myself willing to 
 part with my share of it, whenever our legislators shall please 
 H> altel the law ; and shall cheerfully consent to exchange my 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 14T 
 
 liberty of abusing others, for the privilege of not being abused 
 myself. 
 
 By whom this court is commissioned or constituted. 
 It is not by any commission from the supreme executive 
 council, who might previously judge of the abilities, integrity, 
 knowledge, &c. of the persons to be appointed to this great 
 trust, of deciding upon the characters and good fame of the 
 citizens : for this court is above that ceuncil, and may accuse, 
 judge, and condemn it at pleasure. Nor is it Hereditary, as 
 is the court of dernier resort in the peerage of England. 
 But any man who can procure pen, ink, and paper, with a 
 press, a few types, and a huge pair of blacking balls, may 
 commissionate himself, and his court is immediately estab- 
 ished in the plenary possession and exercise of its rights ; for 
 *,* you make the least complaint of the judge s conduct, he 
 daubs his blacking balls in your face wherever he meets you : 
 and besides tearing your private character to splinters, marks 
 you out for the odium of the public, as an enemy to the liberty 
 of the press. 
 
 Of the natural support of this court. 
 
 Its support is founded in the depravity of such minds as 
 have not been mended by religion, nor improved by good 
 education. 
 
 There is a lust in man no charm can tame, 
 Of loudly publishing his neighbor s shame, 
 hence 
 
 On eagle s wings immortal scandals fly, 
 
 While virtuous actions are but born and die. Dryden. 
 
 Whoever feels pain in hearing a good character of his 
 neighbor, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And of those 
 who, despairing to rise in distinction by their virtues, are 
 happy if others can be depressed to a level with themselves, 
 there are a sufficient number in every great town to maintain 
 one of these courts by subscription. A shrewd observer 
 once said, that in walking the streets of a slippery morning, 
 one mi<jht see where the good-natured people lived, by the 
 ashes thrown on the ice before the doors : probably he would 
 have formed a different conjecture of the temper of those 
 whom he might find engaged in such subscriptions. 
 
 Of the checks proper to be established against the abuses of 
 power in those courts. 
 
 Hitherto there are none. But since so much has been 
 written and published on the federal constitution; and the 
 
148 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 necessity of checks in all parts of good government, has 
 be<m so clearly and learnedly explained, 1 feel myself so far 
 enlightened as to suspect some check may be proper in this 
 part also ; but I have been at a loss to imagine any that may 
 not be construed an infringement of the sacred liberty of the 
 press. At length, however, I think I have found one, that 
 instead of diminishing general liberty, shall augment it; which 
 is, by restoring to the people a species of liberty, of which 
 they have been deprived by our laws I mean the liberty of 
 the cudgel ! In the rude state of society prior to the exist 
 ence of laws, if one man gave another ill language, the 
 affronted person might return it by a box on the ear ; and, if 
 repeated, by a good drubbing ; and this without offending 
 against any law ; but now the right of making such returns 
 is denied, and they are punished as breaches of the peace, 
 while the right of abusing seems to remain in full force ; the 
 laws made against it being rendered ineffectual by the liberty 
 of the press. 
 
 My proposal then is, to leave the liberty of the press un 
 touched, to be exercised in its full extent, force, and vigor, 
 but to permit the liberty of the cudgel to go with it, pan passu. 
 Thus, my fellow-citizens, if an impudent writer attacks your 
 reputation dearer perhaps to you than your life, and puts 
 his name to the charge, you may go to him as openly, and 
 break his head. If he conceals himself behind the printer, 
 and you can nevertheless discover who he is, you may, in 
 like manner, way-lay him in the night, attack him behind, 
 and give him a good drubbing. If your adversary hires better 
 writers than himself to abuse you more effectually, you may 
 hire as many porters, stronger than yourself, to assist you 
 in giving him a more effectual drubbing. Thus far goes my 
 project as to private resentment and retribution. But if the 
 public should ever happen to be affronted, as it ought to be, 
 with the conduct of such writers, I would not advise proceed 
 ing immediately to these extremities, but that we should in 
 moderation content ourselves with tarring and feathering, and 
 tossing in a blanket. 
 
 If, however, it should be thought that this proposal of 
 mine may disturb the public peace, I would then humbly 
 recommend to our legislators to take up the consideration of 
 both liberties, that of the press, and that of the cudgel ; and 
 by an explicit law mark their extent and limits : and at the 
 same time that they secure the person of a citizen from 
 assaults, they would likewise provide for the security of his 
 ^Putation. 
 
LIFB AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 149 
 
 PAPER. 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 SOME wit of old such wits of old there were 
 Whose hints show d meaning, whose allusions care, 
 By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, 
 Call d clear blank paper ev ry infant mind ; 
 When still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, 
 Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. 
 
 The thought was happy, pertinent and true ; 
 Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. 
 I, (can you pardon my presumption,) I 
 No wit, no genius, yet for once will try. 
 
 Various the papers various wants produce, 
 The wants of fashion, elegance, and use. 
 Men are as various ; and if right I scan, 
 Each sort of paper represents some man. 
 
 Pray note the fop half powder and half lace 
 Nice as a band-box were his dwelling-place : 
 He s the gilt paper, which apart you store, 
 And lock from vulgar hands in the scrutoire. 
 
 Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth, 
 Are copy paper 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 spare. 
 Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, 
 Is coarse broum paper ; such as pedlers 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 rumors, and a tool of knaves ; 
 He ll want no type his weakness to proclaim, 
 While such a thing as fools-cap has a name. 
 
160 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 The hasty gentleman, whose blood runs high 
 Who picks a quarre, if you step awry, 
 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 ; 
 They are the mere waste-paper of mankind. 
 
 Observe the maiden, innocently sweet, 
 She s fair white-paper, an unsullied sheet ; 
 On which the happy man, whom fate ordains, 
 May write his name, and take her for his pains. 
 
 One instance more, and only one I ll bring ; 
 Tis the great man that 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 paper is his breast ; 
 Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best, 
 
 ON THE ART OF SWIMMING. 
 
 IN ANSWER TO SOME INQUIRIES OF M. DUBOURO 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 therefore content myself 
 with a few remarks. 
 
 The specific gravity of some human bodies, in comparison 
 to that of water, has been examined by M. Robinson, in our 
 Philosophical Transactions, volume 60, page 30, for the year 
 1757. lie asserts, that fat persons with small bones float 
 most easily upon water. 
 
 The diving bell is accurately described in our Transac 
 tions. 
 
 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 pallet. In swimming, I pushed the 
 edges of these forward, and I struck the water with their flat* 
 surfaces as I 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 sandals ; but I was 
 not satisfied with them, because I observed that the stroke is 
 partly given by the inside of the feet and the ancles, not 
 Wl Urely wilh the soles of the feet. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. . 151 
 
 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 scaphandre of M. de la Chape/le. 
 
 I know by experience, that it is a great comfort to a swim 
 mer, 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 progessive motion. 
 
 When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the method 
 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 danger in 
 bathing, however warm we maybe, in rivers which have been 
 thoroughly warmed by the sun. But to throw one s self into 
 cold spring water, when the body has been heated by exer 
 cise in the sun, is an imprudence which may prove fatal. I 
 once knew an instance of four young men, who, having worked 
 at harvests in the heat of the day, with a view of refreshing 
 themselves, plunged into a spring of cold water : two died 
 upon the spot, a third the next morning, and the fourth re 
 covered with great difficulty. A copious draught of cold 
 water, in similar circumstances, is frequently attended with 
 the same effect in North America. 
 
 The exercise of swimming is one of the most healthy 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 insensible perspiration increases, and 
 occasions this coolness. It is certain, that much swimming 
 is the means of stopping a diarrhoea, and even of producing a 
 constipation. 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 exercise, a warm bath, 
 by cleansing and purifying the skin, is found very salutary, 
 and often effects a radical cure. I speak from my own expe 
 rience, frequently 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 method of swimming 
 is reduced to the act of rowing with the arms and legs, and 
 is consequently a laborious 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 
 
152 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 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 considerable 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 th< 
 pleasure of swimming, I returned, and loosing from the stak< 
 the string with the little stick which was fastened to it, wen 
 again into the water, where I found, that lying on my back, 
 and holding the stick in my hands, I was drawn along tht 
 surface of the water in a very agreeable manner. Having 
 then engaged another boy to carry my clothes round the pond, 
 to a place which I pointed out to him, on the other 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 occasionally to halt a little in 
 my course, and resist its progress, when it appeared that by 
 following too quick, I lowered the kite too much ; by doing 
 which occasionally I made it, rise again. I have never smc 
 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. 
 
 EXTRACTS OF LETTERS TO M. ITOBOtTRG. 
 
 London, July 28, 1768. 
 
 I GREATLY approve the epithet which you give, in your 
 letter of the 8th of June, to the new method of treating- the 
 small-pox, which you call the tonic or bracing method ; I will 
 take occasion, from it, to mention 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 hath 
 always appeared to me, generally speaking, as too violent, 
 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 morning, and sit in my cham 
 ber without any clothes whatever, 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, agree 
 able ; and if I return to bed afterward, before I dress myself, 
 as it sometimes happens, I make a supplement to my night s 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 153 
 
 rest of one or two hours of the most pleasing- sleep that can 
 be imagined. I find no ill consequences whatever resulting 
 from it, and that at least it does not injure my health, if it 
 does not in fact contribute to its preservation. I shall there 
 fore call it for the future a bracing, or tonic bath. 
 
 March 10, 1773. 
 
 I SHALL not attempt to explain why damp clothes occa 
 sion 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 moment of leisure I have at my disposal. 
 In the meantime, I can only say, that having some suspicions 
 that, the common notion, which attributes to cold the property 
 of stopping the pores and obstructing the perspiration was ill- 
 founded, I engaged a young physician, who is making some 
 experiments with Sanctorius s balance, to estimate the dif 
 ferent proportions of his perspiration, when remaining one 
 hour quite naked, and another warmly clothed. He pursued 
 tue experiment in this alternate manner for eight hours suc 
 cessively, and found his perspiration almost double during 
 those hours in which he was naked. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS 
 
 ON THE GENERALLY PRETAILINQ DOCTRINES OF 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 You P. observations on the causes of death, and the experi 
 ments which you propose for recalling to life those who appear 
 to be killed by lightning, demonstate equally your sagacity 
 arid humanity. It appears that the doctrines of life and death, 
 in general, are yet but little understood. 
 
 A toad buried in the sand will live, it is said, until the s;|id 
 becomes petrified; and then, being enclosed in the stone, it 
 may 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 dungeon. But if we 
 reflect that the necessity of nourishment which animals expe 
 rience in their ordinary state, proceeds from the continual 
 waste of their substance by perspiration ; it will appear less 
 
154 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 incredible, that some anim-als, in a torpid state, perspiring 
 less because they use no exercise, should have less need ot 
 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 considerable time without any nourishment whatever. A 
 plant with its flowers, fades and dies immediately, if exposed 
 to the air without having its roots immersed in a humid soil, 
 from which it may draw a sufficient quantity of moisture to 
 supply that which exhales from its substance, and is carrried 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 color. If this be the 
 case, it might prove a commodious method of transporting 
 from distant countries those delicate 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 drowned in 
 Madeira wine, apparently about the time 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 that was filled. Having heard 
 it remarked that drowned flies were capable of being revived 
 by the rays of the sun, I proposed making the experiment 
 upon these. They were therefore exposed to the sun, upon 
 a sieve which had been employed to strain them out of 
 the wine. In less than three hours, two of them by degress 
 began 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 life 
 less until sunset, when, losing all hopes of him, he was thrown 
 away. 
 
 I wish it were possible, from this instance, to invent a 
 method of embalming drowned persons in such a manner, that 
 they may be recalled to life at any period, however distant : 
 for, having a very ardent desire to see and observe the state 
 of America a hundred 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 bv t.h ti solar warmth of my dear country! But since, in 
 obability, we live in an age too early, and too near the 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 155 
 
 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 resur- 
 sction of a fowl or *. turkey-cock. 
 
 PRECAUTIONS 
 
 TO BE USED BY THOSE WHO ARE ABOTTT TO 
 UNDERTAKE 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 th S, you will be continually interrupted and tor 
 mented by visits from friends and acquaintances, who not 
 only make you iose your valuable time, but make you forget 
 a thousand things which you wish to remember ; so that when 
 you are embarked and fairly at sea, you recollect, with much 
 uneasiness, atfairs which you have not terminated, accounts 
 I that you have not settled, and a number of things which you 
 I proposed to carry with you, and which you find the want of 
 | every moment. Would it not be attended with the best con- 
 | sequences to reform such a custom, and to suffer a traveller, 
 | without deranging him, to make his preparations in quietness, 
 I to set apart a few days, when these are finished, to take leave 
 lof his friends, and to receive their good wishes for his happy 
 I return ? 
 
 It is not always in one s power to choose a captain ; though 
 peat part of the pleasure and happiness of the passage 
 lepends 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 
 rood disposition, you will be so much the happier. One 
 sometimes meets with people of this description, but they are 
 not common ; however, if yours be not of this number, if he 
 >e a good seaman, attentive, careful, and active in the man 
 agement of his vessel, you must 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 pas 
 sengers, it is always proper to have some private store which 
 you may u ke use of occasionally. You ought, therefore, to 
 provide good water, that of the ship being often bad ; but you 
 must put it into bottles, without which you cannot expect to 
 preserve it sweet. You ought also to c*).rry with you good 
 ea, ground coffee, chocolate, wine of that sort whicK you lika 
 
156 LIFE- AND 1 ^SAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 best, cioer. dried raisins, ahnonds, sugar, capillaire. citrons, 
 rum, eggs dipped in oil, portable soup, and bread twice baked. 
 ith regard to poultry, it is almost useless to carry any with 
 , unless you resolve to undertake the office of feeding and 
 
 With regard to poultry, it is almost useless to carry any with 
 you, unless you resolve to undertake the office of feeding and 
 fattening them yourself. With the little care which is taken 
 of them on board a ship, they are almost all sickly, and their 
 flesh is as tough as leather. 
 
 All sailors entertain an opinion, which undoubtedly origi 
 nated 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 
 quantities : but as they pour this water into troughs inclining 
 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 tormented 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 throw* 
 into the sea ; while those which are killed for the table are 
 scarcely fit to be eaten. To remedy this inconvenience, it 
 will be necessary to divide their troughs into small compart 
 ments, in -such 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 provisions that one 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 useless, 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 
 provisons, 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 have an opportunity of procuring 
 those things which I have mentioned, and of which perhaps 
 they have the greatest need. By distributing amongst them 
 a part of your superfluity, you may be of the greatest assist 
 ance to them. You may restore their health, save their lives, 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 157 
 
 and in short render them happy : which always affords the 
 ivehest sensation to a feeling mind. 
 
 The most disagreeable thing at sea is the cookery ; 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 sailors, that God sends meat, and 
 the devil sends cooks. Those, however, who have a better 
 opinion of Providence, 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 appotite, 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 from dying with hunger. How 
 ever, if you have no confidence in these succors of Providence, 
 you may yourself, with a lamp and a 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 cider 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 steeping 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 : it consequently forms excellent nour 
 ishment, much superior to that of biscuit, which has not been 
 fermented. 
 
 I must here observe, that this double-baked bread was 
 originally the real biscuit prepared to keep at sea ; for the word 
 biscuit, in French, signifies twice baked.* Peas often boil 
 badly, and do not become soft ; in such a case, by putting a 
 two-pound shot into the kettle, the rolling of the vessel, by 
 means of this bullet, will convert the peas into a 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-basins with divisions or compartments; forming small 
 plates, proper for containing soup for one person only. By 
 this disposition, the soup, in an extraordinary roll, would no 
 
 * It is derived from bit again, and cu.it baked 
 
168 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 be thrown ont of the plate, and would not fall into the breasts 
 of those who are at table, and scald them. Having enter 
 tained you with these things of little importance, permit me 
 now to conclude with some general reflections upon naviga 
 tion. 
 
 When navigation is employed only for transporting neces 
 sary provisions from one country, where they abound, to 
 another where they are wanting : when by this it prevents 
 famines, which were so frequent and so fatal before it was 
 invented and became so common , 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 of luxury, it is then uncertain whether 
 the advantages resulting from it are sufficient to counterbalance 
 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 afflicl 
 human nature. 
 
 One is astonished to think on the number of vessels anf 
 men who are daily exposed in going to bring tea from China, 
 coffee from Arabia, and sugar and tobacco from America 
 all commodities which our ancestors lived very well without. 
 The sugar trade employs nearly a thousand vessels; ana 
 that of tobacco almost the same number. With regard to 
 the utility of tobacco, little can be said ; and, 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 
 these wretches who die in their passage, by disease, bad air, 
 and bad provisions ; and, laslly, 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 against one 
 another, to take and retake the islands that produce this 
 commodity, he would not have seen the sugar simply spotted 
 with blood, he would have beheld it entirely tinged with it. 
 
 These wars made the maritime powers of Europe, and the 
 inhabitants of Paris and London, pay much dearer for their 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 159 
 
 sugar than those of Vienna, though they are almost three 
 hundred leagues distant from the sea. A pound of sugar, 
 indeed, costs the former not only the price which they give for 
 it, but also that which they pay in taxes, necessary to support 
 the fleets and armies which serve to defend and protect the 
 countries that produce it. 
 
 ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY. 
 From a Letter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq."\ written in 176<*. 
 
 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 their affairs with so much more applica 
 tion, 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 passions, pre 
 judices, and private interests. By the help of these, artful 
 men overpower their wisdom, and dupe its possessors ; and 
 if we may judge by the acts, arrests, and edicts, all the world 
 over, for regulating commerce, an assembly of great men is 
 the greatest fool upon earth. 
 
 I have not yet, indeed, thought of a remedy for luxury. I 
 am not sure that in a great state it is capable of a remedy 
 nor that the evil is in itself always so great as is represented. 
 Suppose we include the definition of luxury all unnecessary 
 expense, and then let us consider whether laws to prevent 
 such expense are possible to be executed in a great country, 
 and whether, if they could be executed, our people generally 
 would be happier, or even richer. Is not the hope of being 
 one day able to purchase and enjoy luxuries a great spur to 
 labor and industry? May not luxury, therefore, produce 
 more than it consumes, if, without such a spur, people would 
 be, as they are naturally enough inclined to be, lazy and 
 jndolent. To this purpose I remember a circumstance. 
 The skipper of a shallop, employed between Cape May and 
 Philadelphia, had done us some small service, for which he 
 refused to be paid. My wife, understanding that he had r 
 daughter, sent her a present of a new-fashioned cap. Three 
 years after, this skipper being at my house with an old far 
 
 t Member of parliament for the borough of Calne, in Wilt 
 shire, between whom and our author there subsisted a very 
 close friendship. 
 
160 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN, 
 
 rner of Cape May, his passenger, he mentioned the cap. 
 and how much his daughter had been pleaded with it 
 But (said he) it proved a dear cap with our congregation. 
 How so? When my daughter appeared with it at meet 
 ing, it was so much admired, that all the girls resolved to get 
 suc. i caps from Philadelphia; and my wife arid I computed 
 that the whole could not have cost less than a hundred pounds. 
 True (said the farmer), but you do not lell all the story. I 
 think ilie cap was nevertheless an advantage to us ; for n was 
 the tirst thing that put our girls upon knitting worsted rnitiens 
 for sale at, -Philadelphia, that they might have where-withal 
 to buy caps and ribands there ; and you know ihat that in 
 dustry has continued, and is likely to continue and increase 
 to a much greater value, and answer better purposes. 
 Upon the whole,! was more reconciled to this little piece of lux- 
 urv, since nol oniy the girls were made happier by having hue 
 caps, but (he Philadelphians by the supply of warm ninu-ns. 
 
 In our commercial towns upon the sea-coast, fortunes will 
 occasionally be made. Some of those who grow rich, will be 
 prudent, live within bounds, and preserve what they have 
 gained for their posterity ; others, fond of showing their 
 wealth, will be extravagant and ruin themselves. Laws can 
 not prevent this ; and perhaps it is not always an evil to the 
 public. A shilling spent idly by a fool, may be picked up by 
 a wiser person, who knows better what to do with it. It is 
 therefore not lost. A vain, silly fellow builds a fine house, fur 
 nishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and in a few years 
 ruins himself; but the masons, carpenters, smiihs, and other 
 honest tradesmen, have been by his employ assisted in main 
 taining and raising their families; the fanner has been paid 
 for his labor, and encouraged, and the estate is now in belter 
 hands. In some cases, indeed, certain modes of luxury may 
 be a public evil, in the same mariner as it is a private one. If 
 there be a nauon, for instance, that exports its beef and linen, 
 to pay for the importation of claret and porter, while a great 
 part of its people live upon potatoes, and wear no shirts ; 
 wherein does it differ from the sot, who lets his family starve, 
 and sells his clothes to buy drink ? Our American commerce 
 is, I confess, a little in this way. We sell our victuals to the 
 islands for rum and sugar; the substantial necessaries of life 
 for superfluities. But we have plenty, and live well neverthe 
 less ; though by being soberer, we might be richer. 
 
 The vast quantity of forest land we have yet to clear, and 
 put in order for cultivation, will fora long time keep the body 
 of our nation laborious and frugal. Forming an opinion of 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 161 
 
 our people, and their manners, by what is seen among the in 
 habitants of the sea-ports, is judging from an improper sam 
 ple. The people of the trading towns may be rich and luxu 
 rious, while the country possesses all the virtues that tend to 
 promote happiness and public prosperity. Those towns are 
 not much regarded by the country ; they are hardly consider 
 ed as an essential part of the States ; and the experience of 
 the last war has shown, that their being in the possession of the 
 enemy did not necessarily draw on the subjection of the coun 
 try ; which bravely continued to maintain its freedom and in 
 dependence notwithstanding. 
 
 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 labor would produce sufficient to 
 procure all the necessaries and comforts of life ; want and 
 misery would be banished out 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 
 employment of men and women in works that produce neither 
 the necessaries nor conveniences of life ; who, with those who 
 do nothing, consume necessaries raised by the laborious. Tc 
 explain this : 
 
 The first elements of wealth are obtained by labor from the 
 earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn. With this, 
 if I feed a family that does nothing, my corn will be consum 
 ed, and at the end of the year I shall be no richer than I was 
 at the beginning. But if, while I feed them, I employ them, 
 eome in spinning, others in making bricks, &c. for building, the 
 value of my corn will be arrested and remain with me, and at 
 the end of the year we may all be better clothed and better 
 lodged. And if, instead of employing 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 manufacture remains to augment the 
 wealth and convenience of the family ; I shall, therefore, be. 
 the poorer for this fiddling man, unless the rest of the family 
 work more, or eat less, to make up the deficiency he occa 
 sions. 
 
 Look round the world, and see the millions employed in 
 doing nothing, or in something that amounts to nothing, 
 when the necessaries and conveniences of life are .n question. 
 What is the bulk of commerce, for which we fight and de 
 stroy 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 labor is spent in building 
 and fitting great ships, to go to China and Arabia for tea and 
 
162 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLJN. 
 
 coffee, to the West Indies for sugar, to America for tobacco t 
 These things cannot be called the necessaries of life, for our 
 ancestors lived very comfortable without them. 
 
 A question may be asked Could all these people now 
 emoioyed in raising, making, or carrying superfluities, be 
 subsisted by raising necessaries 1 I think they mi<jhf. The 
 world is large, and a great part of it still uncultivated. 
 Many hundred millions of acres in Asia, Africa, an I Ame 
 rica, "are still in a forest; and a great deal even in Europe. 
 On a hundred acres of this forest, a man mi^H beoom" a 
 substantial farmer ; and a hundred thousand men. employed 
 in clearing each his hundred acres, would hardly brighten a 
 spot large 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 among mankind 
 exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. Hence the in 
 crease of good buildings, farms cultivated, and populous cities 
 filled with wealth, all over Europe, which a few ages since 
 were only to 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 many 
 years peace. So that we may hope, the luxury of a few 
 merchants on the coast will not be the ruin of America. 
 
 One reflection more, and I will end this long rambling let 
 ter. 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 exceeding useful, ask, when reasonable, 
 only the cheap assistance of spectacles, which could not much 
 impair our finances. But the eyes of other people are the 
 eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should 
 want neither fine cloths, fine houses, nor fine furniture. 
 
 OX THE SLAVE TRADE. 
 
 READING in newspapers the speech of Mr. Jackson in con 
 gress, against meddling with the affair of slavery, or attempt 
 ing to mend the condition of slaves, it put me in mind of a 
 similar speech, made about one hundred years since, by Sidi 
 Mahomet 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, or 
 Purists, who prayed for the abolition of piracy and slavery, as 
 being unjust Mr. Jackson does not quote it: perhaps ho 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 163 
 
 has not seen it. If, therefore, some of its reasonings are to 
 be found m his eloquent speech, it may only shew that men s 
 interests operate, and are operated on, with surprising simi 
 larity, in all countries and climates, whenever they are un 
 der similar circumstances. The African speech, as translat 
 ed, is as follows : 
 
 Alia Bisrnillah, &c. God is great, and Mahomet is his 
 prophet. 
 
 Have these Erika considered the consequences of grant 
 ing 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 us? 
 if we forbear to make slaves of their people, who, in this hoi 
 climate, are to cultivate our lands? Who are to perform 
 the common labors of our city, and of our families ? Must 
 we not be then our own slaves ? And is there not more 
 compassion and more favor 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 annihi 
 lated. If, then, we cease taking and plundering the infidels 
 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 re 
 venues of government, arising from the share of prizes, must 
 be toially destroyed. And for what 7 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 do 
 it? 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 a^ 
 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 compelled. And what is 
 there so pitiable in their present condition? Were they 
 not, slaves in their own countries 7 Are not Spain, Portu 
 gal, France, and the Italian states, governed by despots, 
 who h ild all their subjects in slavery, without exception ? 
 
164 LIFE AND ES3A U* FRANKLIN. 
 
 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, hut 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 1 may say a better : 
 for here they are brought into a land where the sun of Islam- 
 ism gives forth its light, and shines in full splendor, and they 
 have an opportunity of making themselves acquainted with 
 the true doctrine, and thereby save their immortal souls. 
 Those who remain at, home have not that happiness. Send 
 ing 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 flourish as a free state. But they 
 are, I doubt, too little disposed to labor without compulsion, 
 as well a-s too ignorant to establish good government ; and 
 the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy, or again en 
 slave them. While serving us, we take care to provide 
 them with every thing ; and they are treated with humanity. 
 The laborers in 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 impressed 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 
 tease us with their silly petitions, have, in a fit of blind zeal, 
 freed their slaves, it was not generosity, it was not huma 
 nity, that moved them to the action ; it was from the con 
 scious burden of a load of sins, and hope, from 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 Alcpran ! Are not the two precepts, to 
 quote no more, Masters, treat your slaves with kindness 
 Slaves, serve your masters with cheerfulness and fidelity, 
 clear proofs to the contrary? Nor can the plundering of in 
 fidels be in that sacred book forbidden ; since it is well known 
 from it, that God has given the world, and all that it con 
 tains, to his faithful Mussulmen, who are to enjoy it, oi 
 right, as fast as they conquer it. Let us then hear no more 
 of this detestable proposition, the manumission of Christian 
 
LIFE ANL iM&bAYS OF FRANKLIN. 165 
 
 slaves ; the adoption of which would, by depreciating CUT 
 lands and houses, and thereby depriving so many good citi 
 zens of their properties, create universal discontent, and pro 
 voke insurrections, to the endangering of government and 
 producing general confusion. I have, therefore, no doubt, 
 that this wise council will prefer the comfort and happiness 
 of a whole nation of true believers, 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 problemati 
 cal ; but that it is the interest of this state to continue the 
 practice, is clear ; therefore, let the petition be rejected. 
 And it was rejected 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 petitions to the parlia 
 ment of England for abolishing the slave trade, to say no 
 thing of other legislatures, and the debates upon them, will 
 have a similar conclusion. 
 
 March 23, 1790. HISTORICUS. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON WAR. 
 
 BY the original law of nations, war and extirpation were 
 the punishment of injury. Humanizing by degrees, it ad 
 mitted slavery instead of death : a farther step was, the ex 
 change of prisoners instead of slavery : another, to respect 
 more the property of private persons under conquest, and be 
 content with acquired dominion. Why should not this law 
 of nations go on improving? Ages nave intervened be 
 tween its several 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 labor for the sub 
 sistence of mankind. 
 
 2. Fishermen, for the same reason. 
 
 3. Merchants and traders in unarmed ships, who accom 
 modate different, nations by communicating and exchanging 
 the necessaries and conveniences of life. 
 
 4. Artists and mechanics, inhabiting and working in open 
 owns. 
 
1&6 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 ll is hardly necessary to add, that the hospitals of enemies 
 should be unmolested they ought to be assisted. 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 accidental 
 ly beneficial to particular persons, is far from being profit 
 able to all engaged in it, or to the nation that authorizes 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 subjected to be taken, and the chances of profit, are 
 diminished ; so that many cruises are made wherein the ex 
 penses overgo the gains ; and, as is the case in other loc- 
 teries, though particulars have got prizes, the mass of ad 
 venturers are losers ; the whole expense 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 labor of so many 
 men during the time they have been employed in robbing ; 
 who besides spend what they get in riot, drunkenness, and 
 debauchery ; lose their habits of industry ; are rarely fit for 
 any sober business after a peace, and serve only to increase 
 the number of highwaymen and house-breakers. Even the 
 undertakers, who have been fortunate, are by sudden wealth 
 led into expensive living, the habit of which continues when 
 Ihe means of supporting it cease, and finally ruins them : a 
 just punishment for tneir having wantonly and unfeelingly 
 ruined many honest, innocent traders and their families, 
 whose substance was employed in serving the common in 
 terest of mankind. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 167 
 
 ON THE IMPRESS OF SEAMEN. 
 Notes copied from Dr. Franklin s writing in pencil in the margin 
 
 of Judge Foster s celebrated argument in favor of the Impress- 
 
 ing of Seamen (published in the folio edition of his works). 
 
 JUDGE FOSTER, p. 158. Every man. The conclusion 
 here from the whole to a part, does not seem to be good 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 ABC and D go out and fight for us, 
 while we stay at home and sleep in whole skins ; that is not 
 equal, and therefore cannot be just. 
 
 Ib. Employ. If you please. The word signifies en 
 gaging a man to work for me, by offering him such wages as 
 are sufficient to induce him to prefer my service. This is 
 very different from compelling him to work on such terms as 
 I think proper. 
 
 Ib. This service and employment, &c. These are false 
 facts. His employment and service are not the same. Un 
 der the merchant he goes in .an unarmed vessel, not obliged 
 to fight, but to transport merchandize. 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 the voyage ; not the king s. Also, the merchant s 
 wa^es are much higher. 
 
 Ib. I am very sensible, &c. Here are two things put in 
 comparison that are not comparable : viz. injury to seamen, 
 and inconvenience to trade. Inconvenience to the whole trade 
 of a nation will not justify injustice to a single seaman. It 
 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 service voluntarily. 
 
 Page 159. Private mischief must be borne with patience, 
 for preventing a national calamity. Where is this maxim in 
 aw and good policy to be found ? And how can that be a 
 maxim which is not consistent with common sense 1 If the 
 maxim had been, that private mischiefs, which prevent a na 
 tional calamity, ought to be generously compensated by the 
 nation, one might understand it : but that such private mis 
 chiefs are only to be borne with patience, is absurd ! 
 
 Ib. <The expedient, &c. And, &c. (Paragraphs 2 
 and 3) . Twenty ineffectual or inconvenient schemes will not 
 justify one that is unjust. 
 
168 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 76. Upon the foot of. &c. Your reasoning-, indeed, lik* 
 a He, stands but upon one/oof; 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 suffering a hardship (as he tender 
 ly calls it) in some particular cases only; and he places 
 against this private mischief the inconvenience to the trade 
 of the kingdom. But if, as he supposes is often the case, the 
 sailor who is pressed and obliged to serve for the defence of 
 trade, at the rate of twenty-five shillings a month, could get 
 three pounds fifteen shillings in the merchants service, you 
 take from him fifty shillings a month ; and if you have 100,000 
 in your service, you rob this honest industrious part of socie 
 ty and their poor families of 250,000^, 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 de 
 fence of which all ought indeed to contribute (and sailors 
 among the rest) in proportion to their profits by it : but this 
 three millions is more than their share, if they do 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 merchants 
 wages would cost the nation too much, and call for more tares. 
 The question then will amount to this : whether it be just in 
 a community, that the richer part should compel the poorer 
 .o fight in defence of them and their properties, for such wa- 
 ^es as they think fit to allow, and punish them if they refuse? 
 Our author tells us that it is legal. I have not law enough 
 .o dispute his authorities, but I cannot persuade myself that 
 t is equitable. I will, however, own for the present, that it 
 nay be lawful when necessary ; but then I contend that it 
 nay be used so as to produce the same good effects the 
 public security, without doing so much intolerable injustice as 
 attends the impressing common seamen. Tn order to be bet- 
 ler understood, I would premise two things : First, That 
 voluntary seamen may be had for the service, if they were 
 sufficiently paid. The proof is, that to serve in the same 
 ship, and incur the same dangers, yon have no occasion to 
 impress captains, lieutenants, second lieutenants, midship 
 men, pursers, nor many other officers. Whv, but that the 
 profits of their places, or the emoluments expected, are sut 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 169 
 
 ficient inducements ? The business then is, to find money, 
 by impressing, sufficient to make the sailors all volunteers, as 
 well as their officers ; and this without any fresh burden upon 
 trade. The second of my premises is, that twenty-five shil 
 lings a month, with his share of the salt beef, pork, and peas- 
 puflding, being found sufficient for the subsistence of a hard 
 working seaman, it will certainly be so for a sedentary scho 
 lar or gentleman. I would then propose to form a treasury, 
 out of which encouragements to seamen should be paid. To 
 fill this treasury, I would impress a number of civil officers, 
 who at present have great salaries,. oblige them to serve in 
 their respective offices for twenty-five shillings a month with 
 their share of mess provisions, and throw the rest of their 
 salaries into the seamen s treasury. If such a press-war 
 rant 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 edifying example, to show how much 
 impressing ought to be borne with ; for he would certainly 
 
 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 SO/, a year salary up 
 to 50,000/. which would throw an immense sum inlo our 
 treasury : and these gentlemen could not complain, since they 
 would receive twenty-five shillings a month, and their rations ; 
 and this without being obliged to fight. Lastly, I think I 
 would impress * * * 
 
 ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS AND THE PRACTICE OF 
 
 PRIVATEERING. 
 Letter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq. 
 MY DEAR FRIEND, March, 14, 1785 
 
 AMONG the pamphlets you lately sent me was one, enti 
 tled, Thoughts on Executive Justice. In return for that, I 
 send you a French one on the same subject, Observations 
 concernant ^Execution de V Article II, de la Declaration sur 
 le Vol. They are both addressed to the judges, but written, 
 as you will see, in a very different spirit. The English au 
 thor is for hanging all thieves. The Frenchman is for pro 
 portioning punishments to offences. 
 
 If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that the law 
 Of Moses was the law of God, the dictate of Divine wisdom. 
 
170 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 infi nitely superior to human; on what principles do we o^ 
 dain death as the punishment of an offence, which, accord 
 ing to that law, was only to be punished by a restitution of 
 fourfold? To put a man to death for an offence which does 
 aot deservs death, is it not a murder? And, as the French 
 writer sa/a, Oo^t-on punir un delit contre la societe par un 
 crime xmtre m nature ? 
 
 Superfluous property is the creature of society. Simple 
 and OJL-1 Jaws were sufficient to guard the property that was 
 merii7 necessary. The savaged bow, his hatchet, and his 
 coat of skic?. were sufficiently secured, without law, by the 
 tear of personal resentment and retaliation. When, by vir- 
 KIJ oi tho first laws, part of the society accumulated wealth 
 i-nd grew powerful, they enacted others more severe, and 
 wouii protect their property at the expense of humanity. 
 This vas abusing their power, and commencing a tyranny. 
 If a ravage, before he entered into society, had been told 
 Y )ur neighbor, by this means, may become owner of a hun 
 dred deer ; but if your brother, or your son, or yourself, hav- 
 ng no deer of your own, and being hungry, should kill on^, 
 i.n infamous death must be the consequence, he would pro- 
 jably have preferred his liberty, and his common right of kill- 
 .ng any deer, to all the advantages of society that might be 
 proposed to him. 
 
 That it is better a hundred guilty persons should escape, 
 than that one innocent person should suffer, is a maxim thrf 
 has been long and generally approved ; never that I know of, 
 controverted. Even the sanguinary author of the ThougJits 
 agrees to it, adding well, that the very thought oi njurvd 
 innocence, and much more thai ut sitff trm!> jtinoceoce, musl 
 awaken all our tenderest uno moc; compassionate feelings, 
 arid at the sani3 tinio raise our rmgnest indignation against the 
 instruments ot it. But, he adds, ihere :s no danger of 
 cither, from a strict adherence to *ho la"- T .3. -Really! Is it 
 Aen imnossible to make ,in unjust law , and if the law itself 
 De unjust, mav it not be the very instrument which ought 
 to raise the author s and every body s indignation ? I see 
 in the last newspapers from London, that a woman is capital 
 ly convicted at the Old Bailey, for privately stealing out of a 
 shop some gauze, value fourteen shillings and threepence. Is 
 there any proportion between the injury done by a theft, value 
 fourteen shillings and threepence, and the punishment ofa hu- 
 njan creature, by death,on a gibbet ? Might not that woman, by 
 her labor, have made the reparation ordained by God in paving 
 fourfold ? Is not all punishment inflicted beyond the merit of 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 171 
 
 the offence, so much punishment of innocence ? In this 
 light, how vast is the annual quantity, of not only injured but 
 suffering innocence, in almost all the civilized stales of Eu 
 rope. 
 
 But it seems to have been thought, that this kind of inno- 
 cense may be punished by way of preventing crimes. I have 
 read, indeed, of a cruel Turk, in Barbary, 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 cud 
 gel on the soles of his feet, that the severe sense of the pun 
 ishment, 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 oi 
 slaves : and yet he appears to recommend something like it 
 for the government of English subjects, when he applauds 
 the reply of Judge Burnet to the convict horse-stealer; who, 
 bf in? asked what he had tosav why judgment of death should 
 not p ass against mm, ana 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 found 
 ed on the eternal principle of justice and equity, that punish 
 ments should be proportioned to offences ; and the judge s 
 reply brutal and unreasonable, though the writer wishes all 
 judges to carry it with them whenever they go the circuit, 
 and to bear it, in their minds, as containing a wise reason for 
 all the penal statutes which they are called upon to put in ex 
 ecution. It at once illustrates, says he, the true grounds 
 and reasons of all capital punishments 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 punishment of the crime, but to prevent other murders, 
 does it follow that I must approve of inflicting the same pun 
 ishment 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 shil 
 lings arid threepence, how can I approve of a law that does it? 
 Montesquieu, who was himself a judge, endeavors to im 
 press other maxims. He must have known what humane 
 judges feel on such occasions, and what the effects of those 
 ieehngs ; and, so far from thinking that severe and excessive 
 
172 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 punishments prevents crimes, he asserts, as quoted by our 
 French writer, that 
 
 L atrocite des loix en empeche V execution. 
 
 Larsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent oblige de 
 lui preferer Vimpunite . 
 
 La. cause de tons les relachemens vitnt de Vimpunite det 
 crimes, et nonde la moderation despeines, 
 
 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 a depravity in our common 
 people. May not one be the deficiency of justice and mo 
 rality in our national government, manifested in our oppres 
 sive conduct to subjects, and unjust wars on our neighbors ? 
 View the long-persisted in, unjust, monopolizing treatment 
 of Ireland, at length acknowledged ! View the plundering 
 government exercised by our merchants in the Indies ; 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 of 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 neighbor nations, as be 
 tween neighbor citizens. A highwayman is as much a rob 
 ber when he plunders in a gang, as when single ; and a na 
 tion that makes an unjust war is only a great gang. After 
 employing your people in robbing the Dutch, is it strange, 
 that being put out of that employ by peace, they still conti 
 nue robbing, and rob one another ! Piraterie, as the French 
 call it, or privateering, is the universal bent of the English na 
 tion, at home and abroad, wherever settled. No less than 
 Seven hundred privateers, were, it is said, commissioned in 
 the last war! These were fitted out by merchants, to prey 
 upon other merchants, who had never done them any injury. 
 Is there probably any one of those privateering merchants of 
 London, who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amster 
 dam, that would not as readily plunder another London mer 
 chant, of the next street, if he could do it with the same im 
 punity ? The avidity, the alieni appetens is the same ; it is 
 the fear alone of the gallows that makes the difference. How 
 then can a nation, which among the honestest of its people 
 has so many thieves by inclination, and whose government 
 encouraged and commissioned no less than seven hunored 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 173 
 
 gan^s of robbe-rs ; 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 his buckles out of his shoes. Wha< 
 the devil"! says another, have we then thieves amongst ust 
 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 mer 
 chant who will riot profit by such ill-gotten gain. He was, i< 
 seems, part-owner of a ship, which the other owners though! 
 fit to employ as a letter of marque, which took a number ol 
 French prizes. The booty being shared, he has now an agent 
 here, inquiring, by an advertisement in the Gazette, for those 
 who have suffered the loss, in order to make them, as far aa 
 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 o\ 
 prize goods, under pain of losing 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 con 
 science, and the rule of treating Christian brethren as w 
 would wish to be treated ; and such goods are not to be sold by 
 any godly man within this burgh? The race of these godly 
 men in Scotland are probably extinct, or their principles 
 abandoned, since, as far as that nation had a hand in promot 
 ing 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 opinion, 
 that a military man is not to inquire whether a war be just or 
 unjust? he is to execute his orders. All princes, who are 
 disposed to become tyrants, most probably approve of this 
 opinion, and be willing to establish it: but is it not a danger 
 ous one ? since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands his 
 army to attack and destroy not only an unoffending n-iighboi 
 nation, but even his own subjects, the army is bound to obey. 
 A negro slave, in our colonies, being commanded by his mas 
 ter to rob or murder a neighbor, or do any other irnmora? 
 act, may refuse ; and the magistrate will protect him in his 
 refusal. The slavery then of a soldier is worse than that of a 
 negro ! A conscientious officer, if not restrained by the appre 
 hension of its being imputed to another cause, may indeed re. 
 sign, rather than be employed in an unjust war; but the pri- 
 rate men are slaves for life : and they are, perhaps, incapa- 
 
17* LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 ole of judging for themselves. We can only lament their 
 fate, and still more that of a sailor, who is often draped by 
 force from his honest occupation, and compelled to imbrue his 
 hands in perhaps innocent blood. But, methinks, it well be 
 hoves merchants (men more enlightened by their education, 
 and perfectly free from any such force or obligation) to con 
 sider well of the justice of a war, before they voluntarily en 
 gage a gang of ruffians to attack their fellow-merchants of a 
 neighboring nation, to plunder them of their property, and 
 perhaps ruin them and their families, if they yield it; or to 
 wound, maim, and murder them, if they endeavor to defend 
 it. Yet these things are done by Christian merchants, whe 
 ther a war be just or unjust; and it can hardly be just on 
 both sides. They are done by English and American mer 
 chants, who nevertheless, complain of private theft, and 
 hang by dozens the thieves they have taught by their own ex 
 ample. 
 
 It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were 
 pi>t to this enormity. The United States of America, though 
 better situated than any European nature to make profit by 
 privateering (most of the trade of Europe with the West In 
 dies, passing before their doors), are, as far as in them lies, 
 endeavoring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all their 
 treaties wiih other powers, an article, engaging solemnly, that 
 in case of future war, no privateer shall be commissioned on 
 either side ; and that unarmed merchant-ships, on both sides, 
 shall pursue their voyages unmolested.* This will be a hap- 
 
 * This offer having been accepted by the late Xing of Prussia, 
 a treaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that mo- 
 narch and the United States, containing the following humane, 
 philanthropic article ; in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, 
 as one ot the American plenipotentiaries, was principally con 
 cerned, viz. 
 
 Art. XXIII. If war should arise between the two contracting 
 parties, the merchants of either country, then residing in the other, 
 ehall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and 
 settle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying c/T all their 
 effects without molestation or hindrance; and all" women and 
 children, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, arti 
 sans, manufacturers, and fishermen, unarmed, and inhabiting un 
 fortified towns, villages, and places, and, in general, all others 
 whose occupations are for the common subsistence and benefit of 
 mankind, shall bJ allowed to continue their respective employ 
 ments, and shall not be molested in their persons, nor shall their 
 house* or goods bo burnt, or otherwise destroyed, nor their fields 
 wasted the armed force of the enemy into whose power, by 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 175 
 
 py improvement of the law of nations. The humane and th 
 just cannot but wish general success to the proposition. 
 With unchangeable esteem and affection, 
 I am, my dear friend, 
 
 Ever yours. 
 
 REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES 
 OF NORTH AMERICA. 
 
 SAVAGES we call them, because their manners differ from 
 ours, which we think the perfection of civility ; they think the 
 same of theirs. 
 
 Perhaps if we could examine the manners of different na 
 tions 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. 
 
 The Indian men, when young, are hunters and warriors ; 
 when old. counsellors ; for all their government is by the coun 
 sel or advice of the sages : there is no force, there are no 
 prisons, no officers, to compel obedience, or inflict punish 
 ment. 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 hand down to posterity the memory of public transac 
 tions. These employments of men and women are accounted 
 natural and honorable. Having few artificial wants, they 
 have abundance of leisure for improvement in conversa 
 tion. Our laborious manner of life, compared with theirs, they 
 esteem slavish and base ; and the learning on which we va 
 lue ourselves, they regard as frivolous and useless. An in 
 stance of this occurred at the treaty of Lancaster, in Penn 
 sylvania, anno 1744, between the government of Virginia and 
 the Six Nations. After the principal business was settled, 
 the commissioners from Virginia acquainted the Indians 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. And all mer 
 chant and trading vessels employed in exchanging the products 
 of different places, and thereby rendering the necessaries, con 
 Teniences, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained 
 nd more general, shall be allowed to pass free and unmolested : 
 nd neither of the contracting powers shall grant or issue any 
 commissbn to any private armed vessels, empowering them to 
 Uke or destroy such trading vessels, or interrupt such commerce. 
 
17.6 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 a speech, that there was at Williamsburg a college, with a 
 fund for educating Indian youth ; and if the chiefs of the Six 
 .Nations would send down half a dozen of their sons to that 
 college, the government would take care that they should be 
 well provided 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 that 
 they show it respect by taking time to consider u, as of a 
 matter important. They therefore deferred their answer till 
 the day following : when their speaker began, by expressing 
 their deep sense of the kindness 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 
 vou mean to do us good by your proposal ; and we thank you 
 heartily. But you who are wise, must know, that different na 
 tions have different conceptions of things : and you will there 
 fore not take it amiss, if our ideas of this kind of education hap 
 pen not to be the same with yours. We have had some ex 
 perience 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 runners : 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 ene 
 my ; spoke our language imperfectly ; were therefore neither 
 fit for hunters, warriors, or counsellors : they were totally 
 good for nothing. We are however not the less obliged by 
 your kind offer, though we decline accepting of 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 edu 
 cation, instruct them in all we know, and make men oi 
 them. 
 
 Having frequent occasions to hold public councils, they 
 have acquired great order and decency in conducting them. 
 The old men sit in the foremost ranks, the warriors in the 
 next, and the women and children 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 commu 
 nicate it to the children. They are the records of the coun 
 cil, and they preserve tradition of the stipulations in treaties 
 a hundred years back ; which, when we compare with our 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN- 137 
 
 writings, we always find exact. He tkat would speak, rises. 
 The rest observe a profound silence. When he has finish 
 ed, and sits down, they leave him five or six minutes to re 
 collect, that, if he has omitted any thing he intended to say, 
 or has any thing to add, he may rise again and deliver it. 
 To interrupt another, even in common conversation, is reck 
 oned highly indecent. How different this is from the con 
 duct of a polite British House of Commons, where scarce a 
 day passes without some confusion, that makes the speaker 
 hoarse in calling to order ; and how different from the mode 
 of conversation, in many polite companies of Europe, where, 
 if you do not deliver your sentences 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 contra 
 dict or deny the truth of what is asserted in their presence. 
 By this means they, indeed, avoid disputes ; but then it be 
 comes 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 Indians hear 
 with patience the truths of the gospel explained to them, and 
 give their usual tokens of assent and approbation : you would 
 think they were convinced. No such matter it is mere 
 civility. 
 
 A Swedish minister having assembled the chiefs of the 
 Susquehannah Indians, made a sermon to them, acquaint 
 ing them with the principal historical facts on which our re 
 ligion is founded : such as the fall of our first parents by eat 
 ing an apple ; the coming of Christ to repair the mischief; 
 his miracles and sufferings, &c. When he had finished, an 
 Indian orator stood up to thank him. What you have told 
 us, says he, is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat ap 
 ples. It is better to make them all into cider. We are 
 much obliged by your kindness in coming so far to tell us 
 those things which you have heard from your mothers. In 
 return, I will tell you some of those which we have heard 
 from ours. 
 
 In the beginning, our fathers had only tne flesh of ani 
 mals to subsist on ; and if their hunting was unsuccessful, 
 they were starving. Two of our young hunters having kill 
 ed 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 
 
178 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 herself on that hill which you see yond&r among the blue 
 mountains. They said to each other, it is a spirit that per 
 haps has smelt our broiled 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 
 be of great benefit in nourishing you and your children to 
 the latest generations." They did so, and to their surprise, 
 found plants they had never seen before ; but which, from 
 that ancient time, have 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 back 
 side had sat on it, they found tobacco. The good mission 
 ary, disgusted with this idle tale, said, What I delivered 
 to you were sacred truths ; but what you tell me is mere fa 
 ble, ficiion, and falsehood. The Indian, offended, replied, 
 My brother, it seems your friends have not done you jus 
 tice in your education ; they have not well instructed you in 
 the rules of common civility. You saw that we, who un<- 
 derstand and practise those rules, believed all your stories, 
 why do you refuse to believe ours? 
 
 When any of them come into our towns, our people are 
 ant to crowd round them, gaze upon them, and incommode 
 ihem where they desire to be private : thia they esteem 
 great rudeness, and the effect of the want of instruction in 
 the rules of civility and good manners. We have, said 
 they, as much curiosity as you, and when you come int 
 our towns, we wish for opportunities of looking at you ; bu 
 for this purpose we hide ourselves behind bushes, where yo 
 are to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your com 
 pany. 
 
 Their manner of entering one another s villages has like 
 wise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling stranger 
 to enter a village aoruptly, without giving notice of their ap 
 proach. Therefore, as soon as they arrive within hearing 
 they stop and halloo, remaining there till invited to enter 
 Two old men usually come out to them and lead them in 
 There is in every village a vacant dwelling, called th 
 stranger s house. Here they are placed^ while the old me 
 go round from hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants tha 
 strangers are arrived, who are probably hungry and weary 
 and every one sends them what he can spare of victuals, an 
 skins to repose on. When the strangers are refreshed, pipe 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 1-79 
 
 and tobacco ar.c brought : and then, but not before, conver 
 sation begins, wilh inquiries who they are, whither bound, 
 what news, &c. and it usually ends with ofTere of service ; 
 if the strangers have occasion for guides, or any necessaries 
 for continuing their journey ; and nothing is exacted for the 
 entertainment. 
 
 The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a princi 
 pal virtue, is practised by private persons; of which Conrad 
 IVeiser, our interpreter, gave me the following instance. 
 He had been naturalized among the Six Nations, and spoke 
 well the Mohuck language. In going through the Indian 
 country, to carry a message from our governor to the coun 
 cil at Onondaga, he called at the habitation of Canassttego, 
 an old acquaintance, 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, Canassetego began 
 to converse with him: asked him how he had fared the 
 many years since they had seen each other, whence he 
 then came, what occasioned the journey, &c. Conrad an 
 swered 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 it is for ? 
 What do they do there? They meet there, says Con 
 rad, to hear and learn good things. 1 I do not doubt, 
 says the Indian, that, they tell you so, they have told 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 
 Unow I used generally to deal with Hans Hanson ; but I 
 was a little 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 he could not give more 
 than four shillings a pound : but, says he, I cannot talk on 
 business now; this is the day when we meet together to 
 learn good things, 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 : 
 nut, perceiving that he looked much at me, and at Hanson, 
 I imagined he was angry at seeing me there ; so I went out, 
 
180 LIFE AND ESSAYS O.F FRANKLIN. 
 
 ?at down near the house, struck fire, and lit my pipe, wait, 
 ing till the meeting should break up. I thought too, that 
 the man had mentioned something of beaver ; I suspected it 
 might be the subject of their meeting. So when they came 
 out, f accosted 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 can 
 not give more than three shillings and sixpence." I then 
 spoke to several other dealers, but they all sung the same 
 song, three and sixpence, three and sixpence. This made 
 it clear to me that my suspicion was right; and that, what- 
 ever they pretended of meeting to learn good things, the real 
 purpose was to consult how to cheat Indians in the price of 
 beaver. Consider but a little, Conrad, and you must be of 
 my opinion. If they met so often to learn good things, 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, we all treat him as T 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 demand nothing in re 
 turn.* But if I go into a white man s house at Albany, and 
 ask for victuals and drink, they say, Where is your money? 
 and if I have none, they say, Get out, you Indian dog. 
 You see that they have not learned those little good thingt 
 that we need no meetings to be instructed in, because our 
 mothers taught them 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 bea 
 ver. 
 
 * It is remarkable that, in all ages and countries, hospitality 
 has been allowed as the virtue of those, whom the civilized wete 
 pleased to call barbarians ; the Greeks celebrated the Scythians 
 for it ; the Saracens possessed it eminently ; and it is to this clay 
 the reigning virtue of the wild Arabs. St. Paul, too. in the rela 
 tion of his voyage and shipwreck, on the island of Melita, says, 
 The barbarous people showed us no little kindness ; for they 
 kindled a fire, and received us every one, because o* the present 
 lain, and because of the cold. This note is tnken from a small 
 collection of Franklin s papers, printed for Dilly 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 181 
 
 TO MR. DUBOURG. 
 
 C4/ACHAKING THE DISSENSIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND ANlJ 
 AMERICA. 
 
 London, October 2, 1770. 
 
 1 BJEE, with pleasure, that we think pretty much alike on the 
 subject of English America, We of the colonies have never 
 insisted that we ought to he exempt from contributing to the 
 common expenses necessary to support the prosperity of the 
 emuire. 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 parlia 
 ment has no right to take our money without our consent. la 
 fact, the British empire is not a single state ; it comprehends 
 many; and though the parliament of Great Britain has arro 
 gated to itself the power of taxing the colonies, it has no morft 
 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 lost 
 England many millions sterling, which it has lost in its com- 
 
 msrce, and America has in this respect been a proportionable 
 gainer, this commerce consisted principally of superfluities; 
 objects of luxury and fashion, which we can well do without ; 
 
 and the resolution we have formed of importing no more till 
 our grievances are redressed, has enabled many of our infant 
 manufactures to take root ; and it will not be easy to make 
 our people abandon them, in future, even should a connexion 
 more cordial than ever succeed the present troubles. I have, 
 indeed, no doubt, that the parliament of England will finally 
 abandon its present pretensions, and leave us to the peace 
 able enjoyment of our rights and privileges. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 A comparison of the Conduct of the Ancient Jews, and of the 
 
 Anti-federalists in the United States. 
 
 A ZEALOUS advocate for the proposed Federal Constitu- 
 ion in a certain public assembly said, that the repugnance 
 if great part of mankind to good government was such, that 
 le believed that if an arigel from heaven was to bring down a 
 constitution formed there for our use, it would nevertheless 
 meet with violent opposition. He was reproved for the sup- 
 
182 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 posed extravagance of the sentiment ; and he did not justify 
 it. Probably it might not have immediately occurred to him , 
 that the experiment had been tried, and that the event was 
 recorded in the most faithful of all histories, the Holv 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 sin 
 gle family, by continued acts of his attentive providence, un 
 til it became a great people : and having rescued them from 
 
 bondage by many miracles performed by his servant Moses, 
 
 he personally delivered to that chosen servant, in pr 
 
 the whole nation, a constitution and code of laws for their ob 
 
 servance ; accompanied and sanctioned with promises of 
 great rewards, and threats of severe punishments, as the con 
 sequence 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 theocra 
 cy), could not be carried into execution but by means of his 
 ministers : Aaron and his sons were therefore commissioned 
 to be, with Moses, the first established ministry of the new 
 government. 
 
 One would have thought, that the appointment of men, who 
 had distinguished themselves in procuring the liberty of their 
 nation, and had hazarded their lives in openly opposing the 
 will of a powerful monarch who would have retained that, na 
 tion 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 a universal welcome reception. Yet there was, in every 
 one of the thirteen tribes, some discontented, restless spirits, 
 who were continually exciting them to reject the proposed new 
 government, and this from various motives. 
 
 Many still retained an affection for Egypt, the land of their 
 nativity ; and these, whenever they felt any inconvenience 
 or hardship, through the natural and unavoidable 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 in 
 jurious to their particular interests, that ihe profitable places 
 would be engrossed by the families and friends of Moses and 
 
 * Numbers, chap. xiv. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 183 
 
 Aaron, and others equally well born excluded.* In Jose 
 pirns, and the Talmud, we learn some particulars, not so fully 
 narrated in the Scripture. We are there told, that Korah 
 was ambitious of the priesthood ; and offended that it was 
 conferred on Aaron : and this, as he said, by the authority of 
 Moses only, without the consent of the people. He accused 
 Moses of having, by various artifices, fraudulently 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 sup 
 planting 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 liberty of 
 our respective tribes ; we have freed ourselves from the sla 
 very 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 Pharaoh, who at least frd 
 us with bread and onions, than to serve this new tyrant, who 
 by his operations has brought us into danger of famine." 
 Then they called into question the reality of his conferences 
 with God : and objected to the privacy of the meeting, 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 em 
 bezzling part of the golden spoons and the silver chargers, 
 that the princes had offered at the dedication of the altar, t 
 and the offerings of gold by the common people, J as well as 
 most, 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 passion, he had, they said, de 
 ceived the people, by promising to bring them to a land flow 
 ing with milk and honey : instead of doing which, he had 
 brought, them from such a land ; and that he thought light of 
 all this mischief, provided he could make himself an absolute 
 
 * Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 3. And they gathered themselve? 
 together against Moses and against Aaron, and said unto them, 
 Ye take too much upon you, seeing all the congregation are 
 holy, every one of them. Wherefore then lilt ye up yourselves 1 
 above the congregation ? 
 
 t Numbers, chap. vii. 
 
 J Exodus, chHp. xxxv. ver. 22. 
 
 i Numbers, chap. iii. and Exodus, chap, xxx 
 
184 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 prince. That, to support the new dign ly with splendor in 
 tils family, the pariiai poll-tax already levied and given to 
 Aaron [| was to be followed by a general one, IT which 
 wo uid 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 for 
 tunes were devoured by that aristocracy. 
 
 Moses denied the charge of peculation; and his accusers 
 were destitute of proofs to support it ; though facts, if real, 
 are in their nature capable of proof. I have not, sa?id he 
 (with holy confidence in the presence of God), I have not 
 laken 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 renown, ** head 
 ing and exciting the mob, worked them up to such a pitch of 
 frenzy, that they called out, Stone em, stone em, and there 
 by secure our liberties ; and let us choose other captains, that 
 they may lead us back into Egypt, in case we do not succeed 
 n reducing the Canaanites. 
 
 On the whole, it appears that the Israelites were a people 
 jealous of their new-acquired liberty, which jealousy was in 
 itself no fault: but that, when they suffered 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 themselves 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, and an amendment, of it was proposed, the 
 populace, as they had accused Moses of the ambition of 
 making himself a prince, and cried out, Stone him, stone 
 him; so, excited by their high-priests and scribes, they ex 
 claimed against the Messiah, that he aimed at becoming 
 king of the Jews, and cried, Crucify him, crucify him. From 
 
 Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 13. Is it a small thing that thou 
 hpt brought us up out of a land flowing with milk and honey, to 
 kill us in this wilderness, except that thou make thyself alto, 
 gether a prince over us f 
 
 II Numbers, chap, iii 
 
 5T Exodus, chap. xxx. 
 
 ** Numbers, chap. xvi. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 15 
 
 all which we may gather, that popular opposition to a public 
 measure is no proof of its impropriety, even though the oppo 
 sition be excited and headed by men of distinction. 
 
 To conclude, I beg I may not be understood to infer, that 
 our general convention was divinely inspired 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 Providence, that I can hardly conceive a transaction 
 of sucn 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 omnipotent, omnipresent, and 
 beneficent Ruler, in whom all inferior spirits live, and move, 
 and have their being. 
 
 NAUTICAL AFFAIRS. 
 
 THOUGH Britain bestows more attention to trade than any 
 other nation, and though it be the general opinion, that the 
 safety of their state depends upon her navy alone ; yet it 
 seems not a little extraordinary, that most of the grea t im 
 provements in ship-building have originated abroad. The 
 best sailing-vessels in the royal navy have in general been 
 French prizes. This, though it may admit of exceptions, 
 cannot be upon tne whole disputed. 
 
 Nor is Britain entirely inattentive to naval architecture ; 
 though it is no where scientifically taught, and those who 
 devise improvements have seldom an opportunity of bringing 
 them into practice. What a pity it is, that no contrivance 
 should be adopted, for concentrating the knowledge that dif 
 ferent individuals attain in this art, into one common focus, if 
 the expression may be admitted. Our endeavors shall not 
 be wanting, to collect together, in the best way we can, 
 the scattered hints that shall occur under this head, not 
 doubting but the public will receive with favor this humble 
 attempt to waken the attention to a subject of such great na 
 tional importance. 
 
 Dr. Franklin, among the other inquiries that had engaged 
 his attention, during atong life spent in the uninterrupted pur 
 suit of useful improvements, did not let this escape his notice; 
 and many useful hints, tending to perfect the art of naviga 
 tion, and to meliorate the condition of seafaring people, occur 
 in his works. In France, the art of constructing ships has 
 lona been a favorite study, and many improvements in that 
 
186 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 branch have originated with them. Among the last of tha 
 Frenchmen, who have made any considerable improvement in 
 this respect, is M. Le Roy, who has constructed a vessel 
 well adapted to sail in rivers, where the depth of water is in 
 considerable, and that yet was capable of being navigated at 
 sea with great ease. This he effected in a great measure by 
 the particular mode of rigging, which gave the mariners 
 much greater power over the vessel than they could have 
 when of the usual construction. 
 
 I do not hear that this improvement has in any case been 
 adopted in Britain. But the advantages that would result 
 from having a vessel of a small draught of water to sail with 
 the same steadiness, and to lie equally near the wind, as one 
 may do that is sharper built, are so obvious that many per 
 sons have been desirous of falling upon some way to effect it. 
 About London, this has been attempted by means of Zee board* 
 (a contrivance now so generally known as not to require to 
 be here particularly described), and not without effect. But 
 these are subject to certain inconveniences, that render the 
 use of them in many cases ineligible. 
 
 Others have attempted to effect the purpose by building 
 vessels with more than one keel ; and this contrivance, when 
 adopted upon proper principles, promises to be attended 
 with the happiest effects. But hitherto that seems to have 
 been scarcely attended to. Time will be necessary to era 
 dicate common notions of very old standing, before this can 
 be effectually done. 
 
 Mr. W. Brodie, ship-master in Leith, has lately adopted 
 a contrivance for this purpose, that seems to be at the same 
 time very simple and extremely efficacious. Necessity, in 
 this case, as in many others, was the mother of invention. 
 He had a small, flat, ill-built boat, which was so ill construct 
 ed assarcely to admit of carrying a bit of sail on any occasion, 
 and which was at the same time so heavy to be rowed, that 
 he found great difficulty in using it for his ordinary occasions. 
 In reflecting on the means that might be adopted for giving 
 this useless coble such a hold of the water as to admit of his 
 employing a sail when he found it necessary, it readily occur 
 red that a greater depth of keel would have this tendency. 
 But a greater depth of keel, though it would have been use 
 ful for this purpose, he easily foresaw, would make his boat 
 extremely inconvenient on many other occasions. To effect 
 bolh purposes, he thought of adopting a movable keel, which 
 would admit of being let down or taken up at pleasure. This 
 idea he immediately carried into effect, by fixing a bar of 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 187 
 
 iron of the depth he wanted, along each side of the keel, mov 
 ing upon hinges that admitted of being moved in one direc 
 tion, but which could not be bent back in the opposite direc 
 tion. Thus, by means of a small chain fixed to each end, 
 these movable keels could be easily lifled up at pleasure ; 
 so that when he was entering into a harbor, or shoal water, 
 he had only to lift up his keels, and the boat was as capa 
 ble of being managed there, as if he had wanted them entire 
 ly ; and when he went out to sea, where there was depth 
 enough, by letting them down, the lee keel took a firm hold 
 of the water, (while the other floated loose) and gave such a 
 steadiness to all its movements, as can scarcely be conceived 
 by those who have not experienced it. 
 
 This gentleman one day carried me out with him in his 
 boat to try it. We made two experiments. At first with a 
 moderate breeze, when the movable keels were kept up, the 
 boat, when laid as near the wind as it could go, made an an 
 gle with the wake of about 30 degrees ; but when the keels 
 were let down, the same angle did not exceed five or six de 
 grees, being nearly parallel with the course. 
 
 At another time, the wind was right a-head, a brisk breeze. 
 When we began to beat up against it, a trading sloop was 
 very near us, steering the same course with us. The sloop 
 went through the water a good deal faster than we could : 
 but in the course of two hours beating to windward, we found 
 that the sloop was left behind two feet in three; though it is 
 certain, that if our false keels had not been let down, we could 
 scarcely, in that situation, have advanced one foot for her 
 three. 
 
 It is unnecessary to point out to seafaring men the benefits 
 that may be derived from this contrivance in certain circum 
 stances, as these will bo very obvious to them. 
 
 NORTH-WEST PASSAGE; 
 
 Notwithstanding the many fruitless attempts that havo 
 been made to discover a north-west passage into the South 
 Seas, it would seem that this important geographical question 
 is riot yet fully decided ; for at a meeting of the Academy of 
 Sciences, at Paris, held on the 13th of November last, M. 
 Bauchf, first geographer to the king, read a curious memoir 
 concerning the north-west passage. M. de Mendoza, an in- 
 telligent captain of a vessel in the service of Spain, charged 
 with the care of former establishments favorable to the marine 
 has made a careful examination of the archives of several do 
 partmenls: there he has found the relation of a voyage madi 
 
188 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN, 
 
 in the year 1598 by Lorenzo Herrero de Maldonada. There 
 it appears, that at the entry into Davis s Slraits, north lat.Gt 
 degrees, and 28 of longitude, counting from the first meridian, 
 he turned to the west, leaving Hudson s Bay on the south, 
 and Baffin s Bay on the north. Arrived at lat. 65 and 297, 
 he went toward the north by the straits of Labrador, till he 
 reached 76 and 278 ; and finding himself in the Icy Sea, 
 he turned south-west to lat. 60 and 235, where he found a 
 strait, which separates Asia from America, by which he en 
 tered into the South Sea, which he called the Straits of 
 Anian. This passage ouht to be, according to M. Bauche, 
 between William s Sound and Mount St. Elias. The Rus 
 sians and Captain Cook have not observed it, because it is 
 v -y narrow. But it is to be wished, that this important dis 
 covery should be verified, which his been overlooked for two 
 centuries, m spite of the attempts which havt, been made on 
 these coasts. M. Bauche calls this passage the Straits oi 
 Ferrer. 
 
 POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED. 
 
 1. ALL food, or subsistence for mankind, arises from the 
 earth or waters. 
 
 2. Necessaries of life that are not foods, and all other con 
 veniences, have their value estimated in the proportion of food 
 consumed while we are employed in procuring them. 
 
 3. A small people with a large territory, may subsist on the 
 productions of nature, with no other labor than that of gather 
 ing the vegetables and catching the animals. 
 
 4. A large people with a small territory, find these insuf 
 ficient ; and, to subsist, must labor the earth, to make it pro 
 duce greater quantities of vegetable food, suitable, to the nou 
 rishment of men, and of the animals they intend to eat. 
 
 o. From this labor arises a great increase of vegetable 
 and animal food, and of materials for clothing; as flax, wool 
 silk, &c. The superfluity of these is wealth. With this 
 wealth we pay fur the labor employed in building our houses, 
 cities, &c. which are therefore only subsistence thus meta 
 morphosed. 
 
 6. Manufactures are only another shape into which so 
 much provisions and subsistence are turned, as were in value 
 equal to the manufactures produced. This appears from 
 lunce, that the manufacturer does not, in fact, obtain from the 
 employer, for his labor, more than a mere subsistence, includ 
 ing raiment, fuel, and shelter; all which derive their value 
 from the provisions consumed in procuring them. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 189 
 
 7. The produce of the earth, thus converted into manufac 
 tures, may be more easily carried into distant markets, than 
 before such conversion. 
 
 8. Fair commerce is where equal values are exchanged for 
 equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it costs 
 A in England, as much labor and charge to raise a bushel ot 
 wheat, as it. costs B in France to produce four gallons of wine, 
 then are four gallons of wine the fair exchange for a bushel 
 of wheat, A and B meeting at half distance with their com 
 modities to make the exchange. The advantage of this fair 
 commerce is, that each party increases the number of his 
 enjoyments, having, instead of wheat alone, or wine alone, 
 the use of both wheat and wine. 
 
 9. Where the labor and expense of producing both com 
 modities are known to both parties, bargains will generally be 
 fair and equal. Where they are known to one party only, 
 bargains will often be unequal, knowledge taking its advan 
 tage of ignorance. 
 
 10. Thus he that carries a thousand bushels of wheat abroad 
 to sell, may not probably obtain so great a profit thereon, as 
 if he had first turned the wheat into manufactures, by subsist 
 ing therewith the workmen while producing those manufac 
 tures, since there are many expediting and facilitating methods 
 of working, not generally known ; and strangers to the manu 
 factures, though they know pretty well the expense of raising 
 wheat, are unacquainted with those short methods of work 
 ing ; and thence, being apt to suppose more labor employed 
 in the manufacture than there really is, are more easily 
 imposed on in their value, and induced to allow more for them 
 than they are honestly worth. 
 
 11. Thus the advantage of having manufactures in a coun 
 try does not consist, as is commonly supposed, in their highly 
 advancing the value of rough materials, of which they are 
 formed ; since, though sixpennyworth of flax may be worth 
 twenty shillings when worked into lace, yet the very cause ot 
 its being worth twenty shillings is that, besides the flax, it has 
 cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in subsistence to the 
 manufacturer. But the advantage of manufactures is, that, 
 under that shape, provisions may be more easily carried to a 
 foreign market ; and by their means our traders may more 
 easily cheat strangers. Few, where it is not made, are 
 judges of the value of lace The importer may demand for 
 ty, and perhaps get thirty shillings for that which cost him 
 but twenty. 
 
190 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 12. Finally, there seems to be but three ways for a nation 
 to acquire wealth. The first is by war, as the Romans did, 
 in plundering their conquered neighbors ; this is robbery. 
 The second by commerce, which is generally cneaung. 
 The third by agriculture, the only honest way wherein man 
 receives a real increase of the seed thrown into the ground, 
 in a kind of continual miracle, wrought by the hand of God. 
 in his favor, as a reward for his innocent life and his virtuous 
 industry. B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 PRELIMINARY ADDRESS TO THE PENNSYLVANIA ALMA 
 NACK, ENTITULED, POOR RICHARD S ALMANACK, FOR 
 THE YEAR 1758. 
 
 Written by Dr. Franklin. 
 
 I HAVE heard, that nothing gives an author so great plea 
 sure as to find his works respectfully quoted by other learned 
 authors. This pleasure I have seldom enjoyed ; for though 
 I have been, if I may say it without vanity, an eminent au 
 thor (of Almanacks) annually now a full quarter of a century, 
 my brother authors in the same way (for what reason I know 
 not) have ever been very sparing in their applauses ; and no 
 other author has taken the least notice of me : so that, did 
 not my writings produce me some solid pudding, the great 
 deficiency of praise would have quite discouraged me. 
 
 I concluded, at length, that the people were the best judges 
 of my merit, for they buy my works ; and, besides, in my 
 rambles, where I am not personally known, I have frequent 
 ly heard one or other of my adages repeated, with As poor 
 Richard says, at the end on t. This gave me some satisfac 
 tion, as it showed not only that my instructions were regard 
 ed, but discovered likewise some respect for my authority ; 
 and I own, that to encourage the practice of remembering and 
 reading those wise sentences, I have sometimes quoted my 
 self with great gravity. 
 
 Judge then how much I have been gratified by an incident 
 which I am going to relate to you. I stopped my horse lately 
 where a great number of people were collected at an auction 
 of merchant s goods. The hour of sale not being come, they 
 were conversing on the badness of the times ; and one of 
 the company called to a plain, clean, old man, with white 
 locks, Pray, father Abraham, what think you of the times * 
 Won t these heavy taxes quite rum the country? How shall 
 we be ever able to pay them ? What would you advise us to ? 
 Father Abraham stood up, and replied, If you d have my 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 191 
 
 advice, I ll give it to you in short ; " for a word to the wise ia 
 enough ; arid many words won t fill a bushel," as poor Rich 
 ard says. They joined in desiring him to speak his mind ; 
 and, gathering round him, he proceeded as follows : 
 
 Friends (says he) and neighbors, the taxes are indeed 
 very heavy ; arid if those laid on by the government were the 
 only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge 
 them ; but we have many others, and much more grievous to 
 some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, 
 three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by 
 our folly ; and from these taxes the commissioners cannot 
 ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let 
 us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for 
 us ; " God helps them that help themselves," as poor Richard 
 says in his Almanack. 
 
 It would be thought a hard government that should tax its 
 people one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in its ser 
 vice ; but idleness taxes many of us much more, if we reckon 
 all that is spent in absolute sloth, or doing of nothing, with that 
 which is spent in idle employments, or amusements that 
 amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on diseases, abso 
 lutely shortens life. " Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than 
 labor wears, while the .cey, often used, is always bright," as 
 poor Richard says. " But dost thou love life? then do not 
 squander time, for that s the stuff life is made of," as poor 
 Richard says. How much more than is necessary do we spend 
 in sleep! forgetting, that "the sleeping fox catches no poultry 
 and that there will be sleeping enough in the grave," as poor 
 Richard says. " If time be of all things the most precious, 
 wasting time must he (as poor Richard says) the greatest 
 prodigality;" since, as he elsewhere tells us, "Lost time is 
 never found again ; and what we call time enough always 
 proves little enough." Let us then up and be doing, and do 
 ing to the purpose : so by diligence shall we do more with less 
 perplexity. " Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all 
 ea?y," as poor Richard says ; and, " he that riseth late must 
 trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night ; 
 while laziness travels so slowly, that poverty soon overtakes 
 him," as we read in poor Richard ; who adds, " Drive thy 
 business, let not that drive thee ;" and, " early to bed, and early 
 to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise." 
 
 So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times ? 
 We make these times better if we bestir ourselves. " Indus 
 try needs not wish," as poor Richard says; and, "He that 
 lives upon hope will die fasting." " There are no gains with- 
 
192 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 out p? ms ; then help hands, for I have no lands ; or if I have, 
 they are smartly taxed ;" and (as poor Richard likewise ob 
 serves), " He that hath a trade hath an estate, and he that 
 hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor;" but then 
 the trade must be worked at, and the calling well followed, or 
 neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes 
 If we are industrious we shall never starve ; for, as poor Rich 
 ard says, " At the working man s house hunger looks in, bul 
 dares not enter." Nor will the bailiff or the constable enter 
 for " Industry pays debts, but despair increaseth them," says 
 poor Richard. What though you have found no treasure, noi 
 has any rich relation left you a legacy ? " Diligence is th* 
 
 mother of good luck," as poor Richard says ; and " God givea 
 all things to industry ; then plough deep while sluggards sleep 
 and you will have corn to sell and to keep," says poor Dick 
 
 Work while it is called to-day ; for you know not how much 
 you may be hindered to-morrow ; which makes poor Richard 
 say, " One to-day is worth two to-morrows," and farther, 
 " Have you somewhat to do to-morrow, do it to-day." " If 
 you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good 
 master should catch you idle / Are you then your own mas 
 ter, be ashamed to catch yourself idle," as poor Dick says. 
 When there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, 
 and your gracious king, be up by peep of day ; " Let not the 
 sun look down, and say, Inglorious here he lies !" Handle 
 your tools without mittens ; remember, " that the cat in gloves 
 catches no mice," as poor Richard says. It is true, there is 
 much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed ; but stick 
 to it steadily, and you will see great effects ; for, " continual 
 dropping wears away stones, and by diligence and patienc* 
 the mouse ate into the cable ; and light strokes fell reat oaks,* 
 as poor Richard says in his Almanack, the year I cannot just 
 now remember. 
 
 Methinks I hear some of you say, " Must a man afford 
 himself no leisure ?" I will tell thee, my friend, what pool 
 Richard says: " Employ thy time well, if thou meanest tfr 
 g liri leisure ; and since thou art not sure of a minute, throw 
 not away an hour." Leisure is time for doing something use- 
 ful : this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the hy.y rna 
 never; so that, as poor Richard says, "A life of leisure ana 
 a life of laziness are two things. Do you imagine that slc.th 
 11 ill afford you more comfort than labor? No; for, as poor 
 Richard says, " Troubles spring from idleness, and grievous 
 toils from needless ease : many without laboi would live by 
 their own wits only ; but they break for want of stock. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 193 
 
 Whereas industry gives comfort, and plenty and respect. 
 Fly pleasures, and they ll follow you ; the diligent spinner has 
 a large shut; and, now 1 have a sheep and a cow, everybody 
 bids me good morrow ;" all which is well said by poor 
 Richard. 
 
 But with our industry, we must likewise be steady, and set 
 tled, and careful, arid oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, 
 and not trust too much to others ; for, as poor Richard says, 
 
 " I never saw an oft-removed tree, 
 
 Nor yet an oft-removed family, 
 
 That throve so well as one that settled be." 
 And again, " Three removes are as bad as a fire :" and 
 again, " Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee ;" and 
 again, " If you would have your business done, go; if not, 
 send." And again, 
 
 " He that by the plough would thrive, 
 
 Himself must either hold or drive." 
 
 And again, " The eye of the master will do more work than 
 both his hands ;" and again, " Want of care does us more 
 damage than want of knowledge ;" and again, " Not to over 
 see workmen is to leave them your purse open." Trusting 
 too much to other s care is the ruin of many : for, as the Al 
 manack says, " In the affairs of the world, men are saved not 
 by faith, but by the want of it ;" but a man s own care is pro 
 fitable ; for, saith poor Dick, " Learning is to the studious, and 
 riches to the careful, as well as power to the bold, and heaven 
 to the virtuous." And, farther, " If you would have a fruit 
 ful servant, and one that you like, serve yourself." And 
 again, he adviseth to circumspection and care, even in the 
 smallest matters, because sometimes, " A little neglect may 
 breed great mischief;" adding, " For want of a nail the shoe 
 was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was lost ; and for 
 want of a horse the rider was lost ;" being overtaken and 
 slain by the enemy, all for want of care about a horse-shoe 
 nail. 
 
 So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one s 
 own business ; but to these we must add frugality, if we would 
 make our industry more certainly successful. A man may, 
 if he knows not how to s^ve as he gets, " keep his nose all 
 his life to the grindstone, and die not worth a groat at last. " 
 " A fat kitchen makes a lean will," as poor Richard says j 
 and, 
 
 " Many estates are spent in the getting; 
 
 Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, 
 
 And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting." 
 13 
 
J94 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 "If you would be wealthy (says he, in another Almanack), 
 think of saving as well as of getting : the Indians have not 
 made Spain rich, because her out-goes are greater than her 
 incomes." 
 
 Away then with your expensive follies, and you will not 
 have much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, and 
 chargeable families ; for, as poor Dick says, 
 " Women and wine, game and deceit, 
 Make the wealth small, and the want great." 
 
 And, farther, " What maintains one vice, would bring up 
 two children." You may think, perhaps, that a little tea, or 
 a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes 
 a little finer, and a little entertainment now and then, can bo 
 no great matter ; but remember what poor Richard says, 
 " Many a little makes a meikle ;" and farther, " Beware of 
 little expenses ; a small leak will sink a great ship ;" and again, 
 " Who dainties love, shall beggars prove ;" and, moreover, 
 Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them." 
 
 Here you are all got together at this sale of fineries and 
 nicknacks. You call them goods ; but if you do not take care, 
 they will prove evils to some of you. You expect they will 
 be sold cheap, and perhaps they may for less than they cost: 
 but if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to 
 you. Remember what poor Richard says, " Buy what thou 
 nast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries." 
 And again, " At a great pennyworth pause a while." He 
 means, that perhaps the cheapness is apparent only, or not 
 real ; or the bargain, by straitening thee in thy business, may 
 do thee more harm than good. For in another place he says, 
 " Many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths." 
 Again, as poor Richard says, " It is foolish to lay out money 
 in a purchase of repentance ;" and yet this folly is practised 
 every day at auctions, for want of minding the Almanack. 
 " Wise men (as poor Dick says) learn by others harms, fools 
 scarcely by their own ; but Felix quern faciunt aliena pericula 
 cautum." Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, 
 have gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their fami 
 lies : "Silk and satins, scarlet and velvets (as poor Richan_ 
 says), put out the kitchen fire." These are riot the necessa - 
 nes of life, they can scarcely be called the conveniences; and 
 yet only because they look pretty, how many want to have 
 them? The artificial wants of mankind thus become more 
 numerous than the natural ; and, as poor Dick says, " For 
 one poor person there are a hundred indigent." By these 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 195 
 
 and other extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, 
 and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, 
 but who, through industry and frugality, have maintained 
 their standing; in which case, it appears plainly, "A plough 
 man on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees," as 
 poor Richard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate 
 left them, which they knew not the getting of; they think, 
 " It is day, and will never be night :" that a little to be spent 
 out of so much is not worth minding : " A child and a fool 
 (as poor Richard says) imacine twenty shillings and twenty 
 years can never be spent ; but always by taking out of the 
 meal-tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom ;" 
 then, as poor Dick says, " When the well is dry they know 
 the worth of water." But this they might have known be 
 fore, if they had taken his advice : " If you would know the 
 value of money, go and try to borrow some ; for he that goes 
 a borrowing goes a sorrowing ; and, indeed, so does he that 
 lends to such people, when he goes to get it again." Poor 
 Dick farther advises, and says, 
 
 " Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse ; 
 Ere iancy you consult, consult your purse." 
 
 And again, " Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great 
 deal more saucy." When you have bought one tine thing, 
 you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all oi 
 a piece; but poor Dick says, " It is easier to suppress the 
 first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it." And it is as 
 truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as the frog to swell in 
 order to equal the ox. 
 
 " Vessels large may venture more, 
 But little boau> should keep near shore." 
 
 Tis, however, a folly soon punished; for, "Pride that dines 
 on vanity, sups on contempt," as poor Richard says. And, 
 in another place, " Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined with 
 Poverty, and supped with Infamy." And, after all, of what 
 use is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, 
 so much is sutferi-d . [t cannot promote health, or ease pain, 
 it makes no increase of merit in the person ; it creates envy ; 
 it hastens misfortunes. 
 
 " What is a butterfly ? at best, 
 
 He s but a caterpillar drest ; 
 
 The gaudy lop s his picture just," 
 as poor Richard says. 
 
 But what madness must it be to run in debt for these su 
 perfluities ! We are offered by the terms of this sale six 
 
196 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 months credit; and that perhaps has induced some of us to 
 attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and hope 
 now to be fine without it. But, ah ! think what you do when 
 you run in debt. You give to another power over your liber 
 ty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to 
 see your creditor : you will be in fear when you speak to him ; 
 you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and by degrees 
 come to lose your veracity, and sink into base downright ly 
 ing ; for, as poor Richard says, " the second vice is lying 
 the first is running in debt." And again, to the same pur 
 pose, " Lying rides upon debt s back ;" whereas a free-born 
 Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to speak to 
 any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spi 
 
 rit and virtue : " It is hard for an empty bag to stand up 
 right," as poor Richard truly says. What would you think 
 of that prince, or that government, who would issue an edict, 
 
 forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or a gentlewoman, 
 on pain of imprisonment or servitude ? Would you not say, 
 that you were free, have a right, to dress as you please, and 
 that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges, and 
 such a government tyrannical? And yet you are about to 
 put yourself under that tyranny when you run in debt for such 
 dress . Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to de 
 prive you of your liberty, by confining you in jail for life, or 
 by selling you for a servant, if you should not be able to pay 
 him. When you have got your bargain, you may, perhaps, 
 think little of payment; but "Creditors (poor Richard tells 
 us) have better memories than debtors ;" and in another place 
 he says, " Creditors are a superstitious sect, great observers 
 of set days and times." The day comes round before you 
 are aware, and the demand is made before you are prepared 
 to satisfy it. Or if you bear your debt in mind, the term which 
 at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely 
 short. Time will seem to have added wings to his heels as 
 well as at his shoulders. " Those have a short Lent (saith 
 poor Richard) who owe money to be paid at Easter." Then 
 since, as he says, " The borrower is a slave to the lender 
 and the debtor to the creditor ;" disdain the chain, preserve 
 your freedom, and maintain your independency : be indus 
 trious and free; be frugal and fiee. At present, perhans 
 you may think yourselves in thriving circumstances, and that 
 you can bear a little extravagance without injury; but 
 
 " For age and want save while you may, 
 
 No morning sun lasts a whole day," 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 197 
 
 as poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary and uncer 
 tain ; but ever, while you live, expense is constant and cer 
 tain : and " it is easier to build two chimneys, than to keep 
 one in fuel," as poor Richard says. So " Rather go to bed 
 supperless than rise in debt." 
 
 Get what you can, and what you get hold, 
 Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold," 
 as poor Richard says. And when you have got the philoso 
 pher s stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times, 
 on the difficulty of paying taxes. 
 
 This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom; but, af 
 ter all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and 
 frugality, and prudence, though excellent things ; for they may 
 be blasted without the blessing of Heaven : and therefore ask 
 that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at 
 present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remem 
 ber Job suffered, and was afterward prosperous. 
 
 And now, to conclude, " Experience keeps a dear school , 
 but fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that ; for it is 
 true, we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct," as 
 poor Richard says. However, remember this, " They that 
 will not be counselled, cannot be helped," as poor Richard 
 says; and, farther, that " If you will not hear Reason, she 
 will surely rap your knuckles." 
 
 Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people 
 heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately prac 
 tised the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon ; 
 for the auction opened, and they began to buy extravagantly, 
 notwithstanding all his cautions, and their own fear of taxes. 
 I found the good man had thoroughly studied my Almanacks, 
 and digested all I had dropped on those topics, during the 
 course of twenty-five years. The frequent mention he made 
 of me, must have tired every one else : but mv vanity was 
 wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious that not 
 a tenth part of the wisdom was my own, which he ascribed 
 to me, but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense 
 of all ages and nations. However, I resolved to be the bet 
 ter for the echo of it ; and though I had first determined to 
 buy stuff for a new coat, 1 went away, resolved to wear my 
 old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, 
 hy profit will be as great as mine. 
 
 I am, as ever, thine to serve thee, 
 
 RICHAKD SAUNDERS. 
 
198 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 THE INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. 
 Being a true Description of the Interest and Policy of that 
 
 vast Continent. 
 
 THERE is a tradition, that, in the planting of New Eng 
 land the first settlers met with many difficulties and hard 
 ships : as is generally the case when a civilized people at 
 tempt establishing themselves in a wilderness country. Being 
 piously disposed, they sought relief from Heaven, by laying 
 .heir wants and distresses before the Lord, in frequent set 
 days of fasting and prayer. Constant meditation and dis 
 course on these subjects kept their minds gloomy and discon 
 tented; and, like the children of Israel, there were many dis 
 posed to return to that Egypt which persecution had induced 
 them to abandon. At length, when it was proposed in the 
 Assembly to proclaim another fast, a farmer of plain sense 
 rose and remarked, that the inconveniences they suffered, 
 and concerning which they had so often wearied Heaven with 
 their complaints, were not so great as they might have ex 
 pected, and were diminishing every day as the colony strength 
 ened ; that the earth began to reward their labor, and to fur 
 nish liberally for their subsistence ; that the seas and rivers 
 were found full of fish, the air sweet, the climate healthy ; 
 and, above all, that they were there, in the full enjoyment of 
 liberty, civil and religious : he therefore thought, that reflect 
 ing and conversing on these subjects would be more comfort 
 able, as tending more to make them contented with their situ 
 ation ; 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 circum 
 stances of public felicity sufficient to furnish employment for 
 a thanksgiving day ; which is therefore constantly ordered 
 and religiously observed. 
 
 I see in the public newspapers of different States frequen* 
 complaints of hard times, deadness of trade, scarcity of money 
 &c. &c. It is not my intention to assert or maintain that 
 these complaints are entirely without foundation. There can 
 be no country or nation existing, in which there will not be 
 some people so circumstanced as to find it hard to gain a 
 livelihood ; people, who are not in the way of any profitable 
 trade, with whom money is scarce, because they have nothing 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. ?.99 
 
 to gire in exchange for it; and it is always in the power of a 
 small number to make a great clamor. But let us take a cool 
 view of the general state of our affairs, and perhaps the pros 
 pect will appear less gloomy than has been imagined. 
 
 The great business of the continent is agriculture. For 
 one artizan, or merchant, I suppose we have at least one 
 hundred farmers, by far the greatest part cultivators of their 
 own fertile lands, from whence many of them draw not only 
 food necessary for their subsistence, out 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 ot 
 Divine Providence to these regions, and so favorable the cli 
 mate, 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 spare for exportation. And although the crops of 
 last year were generally good, never was the farmer better 
 paid for the part ne can spare commerce, as the published 
 price-currents abundantly testify. The lands he possesses 
 are also continually rising in value with the increase of popu 
 lation ; and, on the whole, he is enabled to give such good 
 wages to those who work for him, that all who are acquaint 
 ed with the old world must agree, that in no part of it are the 
 laboring poor so generally well fed, well clothed, well lodged, 
 and well paid, as in the United States of America. 
 
 If we enter the cities, we find that since the Revolution, 
 the owners of houses and lots of ground have had their inter 
 est vastly augmented in value ; rents have risen to an asto 
 nishing height, and thence encouragement to increase build 
 ing, which gives employment to an abundance of workmen, 
 as does also the increased luxury and splendor of living of the 
 inhabitants thus made richer. These workmen all demand 
 and obtain much higher wages than any other part of the 
 world would afford them, and are paid in ready money. Tins 
 rank of people therefore do not, or ought not, to complain ot 
 hard times ; and they make a very considerable part of the 
 city inhabitants. 
 
 At the distance I live from our American fisheries, I can 
 not speak of them with any degree of certainty ; but I have 
 not heard that the labor of the valuable race of men employed 
 in them is worse paid, Jr that they meet with less success, 
 than before the Revolution. The whalemen indeed h" 
 
200 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 been deprived of one market for their oil, but another, I hear, 
 is opening for them, which it is hoped may be equally advan 
 tageous ; and the demand is constantly increasing for their 
 spermaceti candles, which therefore 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 they 
 are employed in ; for the consumption of goods in every coun 
 try has its limits ; the faculties of the people, that is, their 
 ability io buy and pay, are equal to a certain quantity of mer 
 chandise. If merchants calculate amiss on this proportion 
 and import too much, they will of course find the sale dull foi 
 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 shopkeepers, the whole natural quantity of that business 
 divided among them all may afford too small a share for each, 
 and occasion complaints 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 ex 
 cessive number of sellers, that the mischief arises ; and, if 
 every shopkeeping farmer and mechanic would return to the 
 use of his plough and working tools, there would remain of 
 widows, arid other women, shopkeepers sufficient for the 
 business, which might then afford them a comfortable main 
 tenance. 
 
 Whoever has travelled through the various parts of Eu 
 rope, and observed how small is the proportion of people in 
 affluence or easy circumstances there, compared with those 
 in poverty and misery ; the few rich and haughty landlords, 
 the multitude of poor, abject, rack-rented, tithe-paying ten 
 ants, and half-paid and half-starved ragged laborers ; and 
 views here the happy mediocrity that so generally prevails 
 throughout these Slates, where the cultivator works for him 
 self, and supports his family in decent plenty ; will, meihinks, 
 see abundant reason to bless Divine Providence for the evi 
 dent and great difference in our favor, and be convinced that 
 no nation known to us enjoys a greater share of human feli 
 city. 
 
 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 with 
 out them ? Such will exist wherever there is liberty ; and 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 201 
 
 perhaps they help to preserve it. By the collision of different 
 sentiments, sparks of truth are struck out, and political light 
 is obtained. The different factions, which at present divide 
 us, aim all at the public good ; the differences are only about 
 the various modes of promoting it. Things, actions, mea 
 sures, and objects of all kinds, present themselves to the 
 minds of men in such a variety of lights, that it is not possi 
 ble we should all think alike at the same time on every sub 
 ject, when hardly the same man retains at all times the same 
 ideas of it. Parties are therefore the common lot of huma 
 nity ; 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 same blessing of political 
 liberty. 
 
 Some indeed among us are not so much grieved for the 
 present state of our affairs, as apprehensive for the future. 
 The growth of luxury alarms them, and they think we are 
 from that alone in the high road to ruin. They observe, that 
 no revenue is sufficient without economy, and that the most 
 plentiful income of a whole people from the natural produc 
 tions of their country may be dissipated in vain and needless 
 expenses ; and poverty be introduced in the place of afflu 
 ence. This may be possible. It however rarely happens ; 
 for there seems to be in every nation a greater proportion ot 
 industry and frugality, which tend to enrich, than of idleness 
 and prodigality, which occasion poverty ; so that upon the 
 whole there is a continual accumulation. Reflect what Spain, 
 Gaul, Germany, and Britain were in the time of the Romans, 
 inhabited by people little richer than our savages, and consi 
 der the wealth that they at present possess, in numerous well- 
 built cities, improved farms, rich movables, magazines stock 
 ed with valuable manufactories, to say nothing of plate, jew 
 els, and coined money ; and all this, notwithstanding their 
 bad, wasteful, plundering governments, and their mad de 
 structive wars ; and yet luxury and extravagant living has 
 never suffered much restraint in those countries. Then con 
 sider the great proportion of industrious frugal farmers, inha 
 biting the interior parts of these American States, and of whom 
 the body of our nation consists, and judge whether it is possi 
 ble that the luxury of our sea-ports can be sufficient to ruin 
 such a country. If the importation of foreign luxuries could 
 ruin a people, we should probably have been ruined long ago; 
 for the British nation claimed a right, and practised it, of im 
 porting among us, not only the superfluities of their own pro 
 duction, but those of every nation under heaven ; we bought 
 
202 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 and consumed them, and yefwe 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 importations, and thereby grow richer; it 
 indeed, which may admit of dispute, the desire of adorning 
 ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine furniture, with 
 elegant houses, &c. is not, by strongly inciting to labor and 
 industry, the occasion of producing a greater value than is 
 consumed in the gratifies tiort, 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 (arid there is no doubt but we shall) be attentive to 
 these, and then the power of rivals, with all their restraining 
 arid prohibiting acts, cannot much hurt us. We are sons of 
 the earth and Was, and, like Antaeus in the fable, if in wrest 
 ling with a Hercules, we now and then receive a fall, the 
 touch of our parents will communicate to us fresh strength 
 and vigor to renew the contest. 
 
 INFORMATION TO THOSE WHO WOULD REMOVE 
 
 TO AMERICA. 
 
 MANY persons in Europe have directly, or by letter, ex 
 pressed to the writer of this, who is well acquainted with 
 North America, their desire of transporting arid establishing 
 themselves in that country, but who appear to have formed, 
 through ignorance, mistaken ideas and expectations of what 
 is to be obtained there ; he thinks it may be useful, and pre 
 vent inconvenient, expensive, and fruitless removals and voy 
 ages of improper persons, if he gives some clearer and truer 
 notions of ihat part of the wonfl ilian appear to have hitherto 
 prevailed. 
 
 He finds it is imagined by numbers, that the inhabitants of 
 North America are rich, capable of rewarding, and disposed 
 to reward, all sorts of ingenuity : that they are at the same 
 time ignorant of all the sciences, and consequently that stran 
 gers, possessing talents in the belles lettres, fine arts, &c. 
 must be highly esteemed, and so well paid as to become easily 
 rich themselves ; that there are also abundance of profitable 
 offices to be disposed of which the natives are not qualified to 
 fill ; and that having few persons of family among th( m, 
 strangers of birtli must be greatly respected, and oi course 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 2C3 
 
 easily obtain the best of those offices, which will make all 
 their fortunes : that the governments too, to encourage emi 
 grations from Europe, not only pay the expense of personal 
 transportation, but give lands gratis to strangers, with negroes 
 to work for them, utensils for husbandry, and stocks of cattle. 
 These are all wild imaginations ; and those who go to Ame 
 rica with expectations founded upon them, will surely find 
 themselves disappointed. 
 
 The truth is, that though there are m that country few peo- 
 
 Kle so miserable as the poor of Europe, there are also very 
 j\v that in Europe would be called rich ; it is rather a gene 
 ral happy mediocrity that prevails. There are few great pro 
 prietors of the soil, and few tenants; most people cultivate 
 their own lands, or follow some handicraft or merchandise ; 
 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 uniformly quitted that coun 
 try for Europe, where they can be more suitably rewarded. 
 It is true that letters arid mathematical knowledge are in es 
 teem there, but they are at the same time more common than 
 is apprehended ; 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 profes 
 sors ; 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, indeed, are by no means excluded from exercising 
 those professions ; and the quick increase of inhabitants every 
 where gives them a chance of employ, 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 
 institution of Pennsylvania runs expressly in these words : 
 1 As every freeman, to preserve his independence (if he has 
 not a sufficient estate), ought to have some profession, call 
 ing, trade, or farm, whereby he may honestly subsist, there 
 can be no necessity for, nor use in establishing, offices of pro 
 fit; the usual effects of which are dependence and servility 
 unbecoming freemen, in the possessors and expectants ; fac 
 tion, contention, corruption, arid disorder among the peop.e. 
 Wherefore, whenever an office through increase of fees or 
 
204 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 otherwise, becomes so profitable as to occasion many to ap. 
 ply for it, the profits ought to be lessened by the legislature. 
 
 These ideas prevailing more or less in the United States, 
 it cannot be worth any man s while, who has a means of liv 
 ing at home, to expatriate himself in hopes of obtaining a pro 
 fitable 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 advisable for a person to go thither, who has 
 no other quality to recommend him than his birth. In Europe 
 it has indeed its value ; but it is a commodity that cannot be 
 carried to a worse market than to that of America, where 
 people do not inquire 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 
 Dy 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 husbandman 
 :s in honor there, and even the mechanic, because their em 
 ployments are useful. The people have a saying, that God 
 Almighty is himself a mechanic, the greatest in the universe ; 
 and he is respected and admired more for the variety, inge 
 nuity, and utility of his handicraft works, than for the anti 
 quity of his family. They are pleased with the observation 
 of a negro, and frequently mention it, that Boccarorra (mean 
 ing 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 libb like a gen 
 tleman. According to these opinions of the Americans, one 
 of them would think himself more obliged to a genealogist, 
 who could prove to him that his ancestors and relations for 
 ten generations had been ploughmen, smiths, carpenters, 
 turners, weavers, tanners, or even shoemakers, arid conse 
 quently that they were useful members of society ; than it he 
 could only prove that they were gentlemen, doing nothing of 
 value, but living idly on the labors of others, mere fruges con 
 turners nati,* and otherwise good for nothing, till bv their 
 death their estates, like the carcass of the negro s gentleman- 
 hog, come to be cut up. 
 
 With regard to encouragements for strangers from go 
 vernment, they are really only what are derived from good 
 laws and liberty. Strangers are welcome, because there is 
 room enough for them all, and therefore the old inhabitants 
 
 * born 
 
 Merely to eat up the corn. Watts 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKTJV. 208 
 
 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 bnng a fortune with him, he must work 
 and be industrious to live. One or two years residence 
 give him all the rights of a citizen ; but the government does 
 not at present, whatever it may have done in former times, 
 hire people to become settlers, by paying their passage, giv 
 ing land, negroes, utensils, stock, or any other kind of emo 
 lument whatsoever. In short, America is the land of labor; 
 and by no means what the English call JLubberland, and the 
 French Pays de Cocagne, where the streets are said to be 
 paved with half-peck loaves, the houses tiled with pan-cakes, 
 and where the (owls fly about ready roasted, crying, Come 
 eat me ! 
 
 Who then are the kind of persons to whom an emigration 
 to America may be advantageous ? And what are the ad 
 vantages they may reasonably expect? 
 
 Land being cheap in that country, from the vast forests 
 still void of inhabitants, and not likely to be occupied in an 
 age to come, insomuch that the property of a hundred acres 
 of fertile soil, full of wood, may be obtained near the fron 
 tiers, in many places, for eight or ten guineas, hearty young 
 laboring men, who understand the husbandry of corn and 
 cattle, which is nearly the same in that country as in Eu 
 rope, may easily 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 arid begin their 
 plantation, in which they are assisted by the good-will of 
 their neighbors, and some credit. Multitudes of poor people 
 from England, Ireland, Scotland, and Germany, 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 labor low, could never have emerged from 
 the mean condition wherein they were born. 
 
 From the salubrity of the air, the healthiness of the cli 
 mate, the plenty of good provisions, and the encouragement 
 to early marriages, by the certainty of subsistence in culti 
 vating the earth, the increase of inhabitants by natural gene 
 ration 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 useftu 
 kinds, to supply those cultivators of the earth with houses, 
 and with furniture and utensils of the grosser sorts, which 
 cannot so well be brought from Europe. Tolerably good 
 
206 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 workmen in any of those mechanic arts, are sure to find 
 employ, and to be well paid for their work, there being no 
 restraints preventing strangers from exercising any art they 
 understand, nor any permission necessary. If they are poor, 
 they begin first as servants or journeymen ; and if they are 
 sober, industrious, and frugal, they soon become masters, 
 establish themselves in business, marry, raise families, and 
 become respectable citizens. 
 
 Also, persons of moderate families and capitals, who, hav 
 ing a number of children to provide for, are desirous of bring 
 ing them up to industry, and to secure estates to their pos 
 terity, have opportunities of doing it in America, which Eu 
 rope does not afford. There they may be taught and prac 
 tise profitable mechanic arts, without incurring disgrace on 
 that account : but, on the contrary, acquiring respect to 
 such abilities. There small capitals laid out in lands, which 
 daily become more valuable by the increase of people, afford 
 a solid prospect of ample, fortunes thereafter for those chil 
 dren. The writer of this has known several instances of 
 large tracts of land bought on what was then the frontiers of 
 Pennsylvania, for ten pounds per hundred acres, which, after 
 twenty years, when the settlements had been extended far 
 beyond them, sold readuy, without any improvement made 
 upon them, for three pounds per acre. The acre in Ameri 
 ca is the same with the English acre, or the acre of Nor 
 mandy. 
 
 Those who desire to understand the state of government 
 in America, would do well to read the constitutions of the 
 several States, and the articles of confederation which bind 
 the whole together for general purposes, under the direction 
 of one Assembly, called the Congress. Those constitutions 
 have been printed, by order of Congress, in America ; two 
 editions of them have been printed in London ; and a good 
 translation of them in French, has lately been published at 
 Paris. 
 
 Several of the princes of Europe having of late, from an 
 opinion of advantage to arise by producing all commodities 
 and manufactures within their own dominions, so as to di 
 minish or render useless their importations, have ^ndeavored 
 to entice workmen from other countries, by high salaries, 
 privileges, &c. Many persons pretending to be skilled in 
 various great manufactures, imagining that America must 
 be in want of them, and that the Congress would probably 
 be disposed to imitate the princes above-mentioned, have 
 proposed to go over on condition of having their passage* 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 20T 
 
 paid, ands given, salaries appointed, exclusive privileges for 
 terms of years, &c. Such persons, on reading the anicles 
 of confederation, will find that the Congress have no power 
 committed to them, or money put into their hands, for such 
 purposes : and that, if any such encouragement is given, it 
 must be by the government of some separate State. This, 
 however, has rarely been done in America ; and when it f 
 has been done, it has rarely succeeded, so as to establish a 
 manufacture, which the country was not yet so ripe for as 
 to encourage private persons to set it up ; labor being gene 
 rally too dear, and hands difficult to be kept together, every 
 one desiring to be a master, and the cheapness of land in 
 clining many to leave trades for agriculture. Some indeed 
 have met with success, and are carried on to advantage ; 
 but they are generally such as require only a few hands, or 
 wherein great part of the work is performed by machines. 
 Goods that are bulky, and of so small a value as not well to 
 bear the expense of freight, may often be made cheaper in 
 the counry than they can be imp.orted ; and the manufac 
 ture of such goods will be profitable wherever there is a suf 
 ficient demand. The farmers in America produce indeed a 
 good deal of wool and flax, and none is exported it is all 
 worked up; but it is in the way of domestic manufacture, for 
 the use of the family. The buying up quantities of wool and 
 flax, with the deMgn to employ spinners, weavers, &c. and 
 form great establishments, producing quantities of linen and 
 woollen goods for sale, lias been several times attempted in 
 ditit rent provinces ; but those projects have generally failed, 
 goods of equal value being imported cheaper. And when 
 the governments have been solicited to support such schemes 
 hv encouragements, in money, or by imposing duties on im 
 portation of such goods, it has been generally refused, on 
 this principle, that if the country is ripe for the manufacture, 
 it may be carried on by private persons to advantage ; and, 
 if not, it is folly to think of forcing nature. Great establish- 
 inems of manufacture, require great numbers of poor to do 
 tiie work for small wages ; those poor are to be found in 
 Europe, but will not be found in America, till the lands are 
 all taken up and cultivated, and the excess of people who 
 cannot get land want employment. The manufacture of 
 siik, they say, is natural in France, as that of cloth in Eng 
 land, because each country produces in plenty the first ma 
 terial ; but if England will have a manuiacture of silk as well 
 as that of cloth, and France of cloth as well as that of silk, 
 these unn; .ural operations must be supported by mutual 
 
208 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 prohibitions, or high duties on the importation of each other s 
 goods ; by which means the workmen are enabled to tax the 
 home consumer by greater prices, while the higher wages 
 they receive makes them neither happier nor richer, since 
 they only drink more and work less. Therefore the govern 
 ments in America do nothing to encourage such projects. 
 The people by this means are not imposed on either by the 
 merchant or mechanic : if the merchant demands too much 
 profit on imported shoes, they buy of the shoemaker; and if 
 he asks too high a price, they take them of the merchant ; 
 thus the two professions are checks on each other. The 
 shoemaker, however, has, on the whole, a considerable pro 
 fit upon his labor in America, beyond what he had in Eu 
 rope, as he can add to his price a sum nearly equal to all the 
 expenses of freight and commission, risk or assurance, &c. 
 necessarily charged by the merchant. And the case is the 
 same with the workman in every other mechanic art. 
 Hence it is, that the artisans generally live better and more 
 easily in America than in Europe; and such as are good 
 economists make a comfortable provision for age, and for 
 their children. Such may, therefore, remove with advan 
 tage to America. 
 
 In the old long-settled countries of Europe, all arts, trades, 
 professions, farms, &c. are so full, that it is difficult for a 
 poor man who has children to place them where they may 
 gain, or learn to gain, a decent livelihood. The wrtimM, 
 who fear creating future rivals in business, refuse to take ap 
 prentices, but upon conditions of money, maintenance, or the 
 like, which the parents are unable to comply with. Hence 
 the youth are dragged up in ignorance of every gainful art, 
 and o liged to become soldiers, or servants, or thieves, for a 
 subsi tence. In America, the rapid increase cf inhabitants 
 takes away that fear of rivalship, and artisans willingly re 
 ceive apprentices from the hope of profit by their labor, du 
 ring he remainder of the time stipulated, after they shall be 
 instructed. Hence it is easy for poor families to get their 
 children instructed ; for the artisans are so desirous of ap 
 prentices, that many of them will even give money to the pa- 
 rentN, to have boys from ten to fifteen years of age bound ap- 
 prentices to them, till the age of twenty-one ; and many poor 
 parents have, by that means, on their arrival in the country, 
 raist d money enough to buy land sufficient to establish them 
 selves, and to subsist the rest of the family bv agriculture. 
 These contracts for apprentices are made before a magistrate, 
 who regulates the agreement according to reason and justice ; 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 209 
 
 and, having in riew the formation of a future useful citizen, 
 obliges the master to engage by a written indenture, not only 
 that, during the time of service stipulated, the apprentice 
 shall be duly provided with meat, drink, apparel, washing, 
 and lodging, and at its expiration with a complete new suit of 
 clothes, but also, that he shall be taught to read, write, and 
 cast accounts ; and that he shall be well instructed in the art 
 or profession of his master, or some other, by which he may 
 afterward gain a livelihood, and be able in his turn to raise a 
 family. A copy of this indenture is given to the apprentice 
 or his friends, and the magistrate keeps a record of it, to 
 which recourse may be had, in case of failure by the maste; 
 in any point of performance. This desire among the masters 
 to have more hands employed in working for them, induces 
 them to pay the passage of young persons of both sexes, who, 
 on their arrival, agree to serve them one, two, three, or four 
 years ; those who have already learned a trade, agreeing for 
 a shorter term, in proportion to their skill, and the consequent 
 immediate value of their service : and those who have none, 
 agreeing for a longer term, in consideration of being taught 
 an art their poverty would not permit them to acquire in their 
 own country. 
 
 The almost general mediocrity of fortune that prevails in 
 Anr rica, obliging its people to follow some business for sub 
 sistence, those vices that arise usually from idleness, are in a 
 great measure prevented. Industry and constant employ 
 ment are great preservatives of the morals and virtue of a 
 nation. Hence bad example? to youth are more rare in Ame 
 rica, which must be a comfortable consideration to parents. 
 To this may be truly added, that serio:is religion, under its 
 various denominations, is not only ioleiated. but respected 
 and practised. Atheism is unknown there ; and infidelity rare 
 arid secret ; so that, persons may live to a great age in that 
 country without having thir piety shocked by meeting with 
 either an atheist or an infidel. And the Divine Being seem? 
 lo have manifested his approbation of the mutual forbearance 
 ai.d kindness with which the different sects treat each oiher, 
 by the remarkable prosperity with which ho has been pleased 
 
 favor the w^oie country. 
 
210 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON COMMERCIAL SUBJECTS. 
 Of Embargoes upon Corn, and of the Poor. 
 
 IN inland high countries, remote from the sea, and whose 
 rivers are small, running from the country, and not to it, as 
 is the case with Switzerland ; great distress may arise from 
 a course of bad harvests, if public granaries are not provided 
 and kept well stored. Anciently, loo, before navigation was 
 so general, ships so plenty, and commercial transactions so 
 well established ; even maritime countries might be occasi 
 onally distressed by bad crops. But such is now the facility 
 of communication between those countries, that an unrestrain 
 ed commerce can scarce ever fail of procuring a sufficiency 
 for any of them. If indeed any government is so imprudent 
 as to lay its hands on imported corn, forbid its exportation, or 
 compel its sale at limited prices, there the people may suffer 
 some famine from merchants avoiding their ports. But wher 
 ever commerce is known to be always free, and the merchant 
 absolute master of his commodity, as in Holland, there will 
 always be a reasonable supply. 
 
 When an exportation of corn takes place, occasioned by a 
 higher price in some foreign countries, .t is common to raise 
 a clamor, on the supposition that we shall thereby produce 
 a domestic famine. Then follows a prohibition, founded on 
 the imaginary distresses of the poor. The poor, to be sure, if 
 in distress, should be relieved ; but if the farmer could have 
 a high price for his corn from the foreign demand, must he by 
 a prohibition of exportation be compelled to take a low price, 
 not of the poor only, but of every one that eats bread, even 
 the richest? The duty of relieving the poor is incumbent on 
 the rich ; but by this operation the whole burden of it is laid 
 on the farmer, who is to relieve the rich at the same time. 
 Of the poor, too, those who are maintained by the parishes 
 have no right to claim this sacrifice of the farmer ; as while 
 they have their allowance, it makes no difference to them, 
 whether bread be cheap or dear. Those working poor, who 
 now mind business onlyj?;e or four days in the week, if bread 
 should be so dear as to oblige them to work the whole six re 
 quired by the commandment, do not seem to be aggrieved, 
 so as to have a right to public redress. There will then re 
 main, comparatively, only a few families in every district, 
 who, from sickness or a great nurr ,er o*" children, will be so 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 211 
 
 distressed by a high price of corn, as to need relief; and these 
 should be taken care of by particular benefactions, without 
 restraining the farmer s profit. 
 
 Those who fear that exportation may so far drain the 
 country of corn, as to starve ourselves, fear what never did, 
 nor never can happen. They may as well, when they view 
 the tide ebbing towards the sea, fear that all the water will 
 leave the river. The price of corn, like water, will find its 
 own level. The more we export, the dearer it becomes at 
 home ; the more is received abroad, the cheaper it becomes 
 there ; and, as soon as these prices are equal, the exporta 
 tion stops of course. As the seasons vary in different coun 
 tries, the calamity of a bad harvest is never universal. If, 
 then, all ports were always open, and all commerce free, 
 every maritime country would generally eat bread at the me 
 dium price, or average of all the harvests ; which would pro 
 bably be more equal than we can make it by our artificial re 
 gulations, and therefore a more steady encouragement to 
 agriculture. The nation would all have bread at this middle 
 price : and that nation, which at any time inhumanly refuses 
 to relieve the distresses of another nation, deserves no com 
 passion when in distress itself. 
 
 Of the Effects of Dearness of Provisions upon Working, and 
 upon Manufactures. 
 
 The common people do not work for pleasure generally, 
 but from necessity. Cheapness of provisions makes them 
 more idle ; less work is then done, it is then more in demand 
 proportionally, and of course the price rises. Dearness of 
 provisions obliges the manufacturer to work more days and 
 more hours : thus more work is done than equals the usual 
 demand : of course it becomes cheaper, and the manufac 
 tures in consequence. 
 
 Of an open Trade. 
 
 Perhaps, in general, it would be better if government med 
 dled no farther with trade, than to protect it, and let it take its 
 course. Most of the statutes or acts, edicts, or arrests, and 
 
 Slacarts of parliaments, princes, and states, for regulating, 
 irecting, or restraining of trade, have, we think, been either 
 political blunders, or jobs obtained by artful men for private 
 advantage under pretence of public good. When Colbert 
 assembled some of the wise old merchants of France, and 
 desired their advice and opinion how he could best serve and 
 promote commerce; their answer, after consultation, was in 
 
212 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 three words only, Laissez nous faire; Let us alone. It IS 
 said by a very solid writer of the same nation, that he is weh 
 advanced in the science of politics, who knows the full force 
 of that maxim, Pas trap gouverner, < not to govern too much ; 
 which, perhaps, would be of more use when applied to trade, 
 than in any other public concern. It were therefore to be 
 wished, that commerce were as free between all the nations 
 of the world as it is between the several counties of Eng 
 land ; so would all, by mutual communications, obtain more 
 enjoyments. Those counties do not ruin each other by 
 trade, neither would the nations. No nation was ever ruined 
 By trade, even, seemingly the most disadvantageous. 
 
 Whenever desirable superfluities are imported, industry is 
 excited, and thereby plenty is produced. Were only neces 
 saries permitted to be purchased, men would work no more 
 than was necessary for that purpose. 
 
 Of Prohibitions with respect to the Exportation of Gold and 
 
 Silver. 
 
 Could Spain and Portugal have succeeded in executing 
 their foolish laws for hedging in the cuckoo, as Locke calls it, 
 and have kept at. home all the gold and silver, those .netals 
 would by this time have been of little more value than so 
 much lead or iron. Their plenty would have lessened their 
 value. We see the folly of these edicts ; but are not our 
 own prohibitory and restrictive laws, that are professedly 
 made with intention to bring a balance in our favor from our 
 trade with foreign nations to be paid in money, and laws to 
 prevent the necessity of exporting that money, which if they 
 could be thoroughly executed, would make money as plenty, 
 and of as little value ; I say, are not such laws akin to those 
 Spanish edicts ; follies of the same family ? 
 
 Of the Returns for Foreign Articles. 
 In fact, the produce of other countries can hardly be obtain 
 ed, unless by fraud and rapine, without giving the produce of 
 our land or our industry in exchange for them. If we have 
 mines of gold and silver, gold and silver may then be called 
 the produce of our land ; if we have not, we can only fairly 
 obtain those metals by giving for them the produce of our land 
 or industry. When we have them, they are then only that 
 produce or industry in another shape ; which we may give, 
 if the trade requires it, and our other produce will not suit, in 
 exchange for the produce of some other country that furnishes 
 what we have more occasion for or more desire. When we 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 213 
 
 have to an inconvenient degree, parted with our gold and sil 
 ver, our industry is stimulated afresh to procure more ; that 
 by its means we may contrive to procure the same advan 
 tages. 
 
 Of Restraints upon Commerce in Time of War. 
 
 When princes make war by prohibiting commerce, each 
 may hurt himself as much as his enemy. Traders, who by 
 their business are promoting the common good of mankind, 
 as well as farmers and fishermen, who labor for the subsis 
 tence of all, should never be interrupted or molested in their 
 business, but enjoy the protection of all in the time of war, 
 as well as in the time of peace. 
 
 This policy, those we are pleased to call barbarians have, 
 in a great measure, adopted : for the trading subjects of any 
 power, with whom the emperor of Morocco may be at war, 
 are not liable to capture when within sight of his land, going 
 or coming ; and have otherwise free liberty to trade and re 
 side in his dominions. 
 
 As a maritime power, we presume it is not thought right 
 that Great Britain should grant such freedom, except partial 
 ly, as in the case of war with France, when tobacco is allow 
 ed to be sent thither under the sanction of passports. 
 
 Exchanges in Trade may be gainful to each Party. 
 In transactions of trade it is not to be supposed that, like 
 gaming, what one party gains the other must necessarily lose. 
 The gain to each may be equal. If A has more corn than 
 he can consume, but wants cattle, and B has more cattle, 
 but wants corn, exchange is gain to each : hereby the com 
 mon stock of comforts in life is increased. 
 
 Of Paper Credit. 
 
 It is impossible for government to circumscribe or fix the 
 extent of paper credit, which must of course fluctuate. Go 
 vernment may as well pretend to lay down rules for the ope 
 rations, or the confidence of every individual in the course of 
 his trade. Ay seeming temporary evil arising must natu 
 rally work its own cure. 
 
214 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 HUMOROUS ACCOUNT OF A CUSTOM AMONG THE 
 
 AMERICANS, ENTITLED WHITE-WASHING. 
 
 Attributed to the Pen of Dr. Franklin. 
 
 ALTHOUGH the following article has not yet appeared in 
 any collection of the works of this great philosopher, we are 
 inclined to receive the general opinion (from the plainness of 
 the style, and the humor which characterizes it), to be the 
 performance of Dr. Franklin. 
 
 My wish is to give you some account of the people of these 
 new States, but I am far from being qualified for the purpose, 
 having as yet seen little more than the cities of New- York 
 and Philadelphia. I have discovered but few national singu 
 larities among them. Their customs and manners are near 
 ly the same with those of England, which they have long been 
 used to copy. For, previous to the Revolution, the Ameri 
 cans were from their infancy taught to look up to the English 
 as patterns of perfection in all things. I have observed, how 
 ever, one custom, which, for aught I know, is peculiar to this 
 country ; an account of it will serve to fill up the remainder 
 of this sheet, and may afford you some amusement. 
 
 When a young couple are about to enter into the matrimo 
 nial state, a never-failing article in the marriage-treaty is, 
 that the lady shall have and enjoy the free and unmolested ex 
 ercise of the rights of white-washing, with all its ceremonials, 
 privileges, and appurtenances. A young woman would fore 
 go the most advantageous connexion, and even disappoint the 
 warmest wish of her heart, rather than resign the invaluable 
 right. You would wonder what this privilege of white-wash 
 ing is : I will endeavor to give you some idea of the ceremo 
 ny, as I have seen it performed. 
 
 There is no season of the year in which the lady may not 
 claim her privilege, if she pleases; but the latter end of May 
 is most generally fixed upon for the purpose. The attentive 
 husband may iud<*e by certain prognostics when the storrn i* 
 nigh at hand. When the lady is unusually fretful, finds faull 
 with the servants, is discontented with the children, and com 
 plains much of the filthiness of every thing about her these 
 are signs which ought not to be neglected ; yet they are no! 
 lecisive, as they someiimes come on and go off again, with 
 out producing any farther effect. But if, when the husband 
 rises in the morning, he should observe in the yard a wheel. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLlN. US 
 
 barrow with a quantity of lime in it, or should see certain 
 buckets with lime dissolved in water, there is then no time to 
 be lost; he immediately locks up the apartment or closet 
 where his papers or his private property is kept, and putting 
 the key in his pocket, betakes himself to flight: for a hus 
 band, however beloved, becomes a perfect nuisance during 
 this season of female rage, his authority is superseded, hia 
 commission is suspended, and the very scullion, who cleans 
 the brasses in the kitchen, becomes of more consideration and 
 importance than him. He has nothing for it, but to abdicate, 
 and run from an evil which he can neither prevent nor mol 
 lify. 
 
 The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The walls are 
 in a few minutes stripped of their furniture ; paintings, prints, 
 and looking-glasses, lie in a huddled heap about the floors ; 
 the curtains are drawn from the testers, the beds crammed 
 into the windows ; chairs and tables, bedsteads and cradles, 
 crowd the yard ; and the garden fence bends beneath the 
 weight of carpets, blankets, cloth cloaks, old coats, and rag 
 ged breeches. Here may be seen the lumber of the kitchen, 
 forming a dark and confused mass : for the fore-ground of the 
 picture, gridirons and frying-pans, rusty shovels and broken 
 tongs, spits and pots, and the fractured remains of rush-bot 
 tomed chairs. There a closet has disgorged its bowels, crack 
 ed tumblers, broken wine glasses, phials of forgotten physic, 
 papers of unknown powders, seeds and dried herbs, handfuis 
 of old corks, tops of tea-pots, and stoppers of departed de 
 canters ; from the rag-hole in the garret to the rat-hole in 
 the cellar, no place escapes unrummaged. It would seem 
 as if the day of general doom was conic, and the utensils of 
 the house were dragged forth to judgment. In this tempest, 
 the words of Lear naturally present themselves, and might, 
 with some alteration, be made strictly applicable : 
 Let the great gods, 
 
 That keep this dreadful pudder o er our heads, 
 
 Find out their en mies now. Tremble, thou wretch, 
 
 That hast within thee, undivulged crimes, 
 
 Unwhipt of justice ! 
 
 Close pent-up guilt, 
 
 Raise your concealing continents, and ask 
 
 These dreadful summoners grace ! 
 
 This ceremony completed, and the house thoroughly eva 
 cuated, the next operation is to smear the walls ana ceilings 
 of every room and closet with brushes dipped in a solution *of 
 lime, called white-wash; to pour buckets of water over every 
 
216 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 floor, and scratch all the partitions and wainscots with rough 
 brushes wet with soap-suds, and dipped in stone-cutter s sand. 
 The windows by no means escape the general deluge. A ser 
 vant scrambles out upon the pent-house, at the risk of her 
 neck, and with a mug in her hand, and a bucket within reach, 
 she dashes away innumerable gallons of water against the 
 glass panes ; to the great annoyance of the passengers in the 
 street. 
 
 I have been told that an action at law was once brought againsl 
 one of these water-nymphs, by a person who had a new suil 
 of clothes spoiled by this operation ; but, after long argument, 
 it was determined by the whole court, that, the action would 
 not lie, inasmuch as the defendant was in the exercise of a 
 legal right, and not answerable for the consequences ; and so 
 the poor gentleman was doubly nonsuited ; for he lost not only 
 his suit of clothes, but his suit at law. 
 
 These smearings and scratchings, washings and dashings, 
 being duly performed, the next ceremony is to cleanse and re 
 place the distracted furniture. You may have seen a house 
 raising, or a ship-launch, when all the hands within reach are 
 collected together : recollect if you can the hurry, buetle, con 
 fusion, and noise of such a scene, and you will have some idea 
 of this cleaning match. The misfortune is, that the sole ob 
 ject is to make things clean ; it matters not how many useful, 
 ornamental, or valuable articles are mutilated, or suffer death, 
 under the operation : a mahogany chair and carved frame un 
 dergo the same discipline ; they are to he made clean at all 
 events ; but their preservation is not worthy of attention. For 
 instance, a fine large engraving is laid rfat upon the floor; 
 smaller prints are piled upon it, and the superincumbent weight 
 cracks the glasses of the lower tier ; but this is of no conse 
 quence. A valuable picture is placed leaning against the sharp 
 corner of a table; others are made to lean against that, until 
 the pressure of the whole forces the corner of the table through 
 the canvass of the first. The frame and glass of a fine prin* 
 are to be cieaned ; the spirit and oil used on this occasion are 
 suffered to leak through and spoil the engraving ; no matter, 
 if the glass is clean, and the frame shine, it is sufficient, the 
 rest is not worthy of consideration. An able arithmetician 
 has made an accurate calculation, founded on long experience 
 and has discovered, that the losses and destructions incident 
 to two white-washings are equal to one removal, and three 
 removals equal to one fire. 
 
 The cleaning frolic over, matters begin to resume their pris 
 tine appearance. The storm abates, and all would be woB 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 21 
 
 again, but it is impossible that so great a convulsion, in so 
 small a communion, should not produce some farther effects. 
 For two or three weeks after the operation the family are 
 usually afflicted with sore throats or sore eyes, occasioned by 
 the caustic quality of the lime, or with severe colds from the 
 exhalations of wet floors or damp walls. 
 
 I know a gentleman, who was fond of accounting for every 
 thing in a philosophical way. He considers this, which I have 
 called a custom, as a real periodical disease, peculiar to the 
 climate. His train of reasoning is ingenious and whimsical , 
 but. I am not at leisure to give you a detail. The result was. 
 that he found the distemper to be incurable ; but after much 
 study he conceived he had discovered a method to divert the 
 evil he couid not subdue. For this purpose he caused a small 
 building, about twelve feet square, to be erected in his garden, 
 and furnished with some ordinary chairs and tables ; and a 
 few prints of the cheapest sort were hung against the walls. 
 His hope was, that when the white-washing irenzy seized the 
 females of his family, they might repair to this apartment, and 
 scrub, and smear, and scour, to their heart s content ; and so 
 spend the violence of the disease in this out-post, while he en 
 joyed himself in quiet at head-quarters. But the experiment 
 did not answer his expectation; it was impossible it should, 
 since a principal part of the gratification consists in the lady s 
 having an uncontrolled right to torment her husband at least 
 once a year, and to turn him out of doors, and take the reins 
 of government into her own hands. 
 
 There is a much better contrivance than this of the philo 
 sopher s ; which is, to cover the walls of the house with paper ; 
 this is generally done ; and though it cannot abolish, it at 
 least shortens the period of female dominion. The paper is 
 decorated with flowers of various fancies, and made so orna 
 mental, that the women have admitted the fashion without 
 perceiving the design. 
 
 There is also another alleviation of the husband s distress ; 
 he generally has the privilege of a small room or closet for his 
 books and papers, the key of which he is allowed to keep. 
 This is considered as a privileged place, and stands like the 
 land of Goshen amid the plagues of Egypt. But then he must 
 be extremely cautious, and ever on his guard ; for should he 
 inadvertently go abroad and leave the key in his door, the 
 housemaid, who is always on the watch for such an opportu 
 nity, immediately enters in triumph with buckets, brooms, and 
 brushes ; takes possession oi the premises, and forthwith puta 
 
2L8 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 all his books and papers to rights to his utter confusion, *nd 
 sometimes serious detriment, for instance : 
 
 A gentleman was sued by the executors of a tradesman, on 
 a charge found against him in the deceased s books, to the 
 amount of 30f. The defendant was strongly impressed with 
 an idea that he had discharged the debt arid taken a receipt ; 
 but as the transaction was of long standing, he knew not 
 where to find the receipt. The suit went on in course, and 
 the time approached when judgment would be obtained against 
 him. He then sat seriously down to examine a large bundle 
 of old papers, which he had untied and displayed on a table 
 for that purpose. In the midst of his search, he was suddenly 
 called away on business of importance ; he forgot to lock the 
 door of his room. The housemaid, who had been long look 
 ing out for such an opportunity, immediately entered with the 
 usual implements, and wit.h great alacrity fell to cleaning the 
 room and putting things to rights. The first object that struck 
 her eye was the confused situation of the papers on the 
 table ; these were without delay bundled together like so 
 many dirty knives and forks ; but in the action a small piece 
 of paper fell unnoticed on the floor, which happened to be 
 the very receipt in question : as it had no very respectable 
 appearance, it was soon after swept out with the common 
 dirt of the room, and carried in a rubbish pan into the yard. 
 The tradesman had neglected to enter the credit in his book; 
 the defendant could find nothing to obviate the charge, and 
 so judgment went against him for the debt and costs. A fort 
 night after the whole was settled, and the money paid, one 
 of the children found the receipt among the rubbish in the 
 yard. 
 
 There is also another custom peculiar to the city of Phila 
 delphia, and nearly allied to the former. I mean that of 
 washing the pavement before the doors every Saturday even 
 ing. I at first took this to be a regulation of the police ; but, 
 on farther inquiry, find it is a religious rite, preparatory to the 
 Sabbath ; and is, I believe, the only religious rite in which the 
 numerous sectaries of this city perfectly agree. The cere 
 mony begins about sunset, and continues till about ten or 
 eleven at night. It is very difficult for a stranger to walk the 
 streets on those evenings ; he runs a continual risk of having 
 a bucket of dirty water thrown against his legs ; but a Phila- 
 delphian born, is so much accustomed to the danger, that he 
 avoids it with surprising dexterity. It is from this circum 
 stance that a Philadelphian may be known any where by his 
 gait. The streets of New- York are paved with rough 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 219 
 
 Btones; these indeed are not washed, but the dirt is so tho 
 roughly swept from before the doors, that the stones stand up 
 sharp and prominent, to the great inconvenience of those who 
 are not accustomed to so rough a path. But habit recon 
 ciles every thing. It is diverting enough to see a PhJadel- 
 phian at New- York ; he walks the streets with as much most 
 painful caution, as if his toes were covered with corns, or his 
 feet lamed with the gout; while a New-Yorker, as little ap 
 proving the plain masonry of Philadelphia, shuffles along the 
 pavement like a parrot on a mahogany table. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, that the ablutions I have men 
 tioned are attended with no small inconvenience ; but the 
 women would not be induced, from any consideration, to re 
 sign their privilege. Notwithstanding this, lean give you the 
 strongest assurances, that the women of America make the 
 most faithful wives and the most attentive mothers in the 
 world : and I am sure you will join me in opinion, that if a 
 married man is made miserable only one week in a whole 
 year, he will have no great cause to complain of the matri 
 monial bond. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 ANSWER TO THE ABOVE. 
 
 Ilf THE CHARACTER OF A LADY : BUT REALLY BY THE 
 
 SAME HAND. 
 SIR, 
 
 I HA VE lately seen a letter upon the subject of ivhite-wash- 
 in.?, in which that necessary duty of a good housewife is treat 
 ed with unmerited ridicule. I should probably have forgot the 
 foolish thing by this time : but the season coming on which 
 must women think suitable for cleansing their apartments 
 from the smoke and dirt of the winter, I find this saucy author 
 dished up in every family, and his flippant performance quo 
 ted wherever a wife attempts to exercise her reasonable pre 
 rogative, or execute the duties of her station. Women gene 
 rally employ their time to better purpose than scribbling. 
 The cares and comforts of a family rest principally upon their 
 shoulders ; hence it is that there are but few female authors ; 
 and the men, knowing how necessary our attentions are to 
 their happiness, take every opportunity of discouraging lite 
 rary accomplishments in the fair sex, You hear it echoed 
 from every quarter, My wife cannot make verses, it is 
 true ; but she makes an excellent pudding: she can t correct 
 tbe press, but she can correct her children, and scold her 
 
220 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 servants with admirable discretion: she can t unravel the in 
 tricacies of political economy and federal government; but 
 she can knit charming stockings. Arid this they call prais 
 ing a wife, and doing justice to her character, with much non 
 sense of the like kind. 
 
 I say, women generally employ their time to much better 
 purpose than scribbling; otherwise this facetious writer had 
 not gone so long unanswered. We have ladies who some 
 times lay down the needle, and take up the pen ; I wonder 
 none of them have attempted some reply. For my part, I do 
 not pretend to be an author. I never appeared in print in my 
 life, but I can no longer forbear saying something in answer 
 to such impertinence, circulate how it may. Only, sir, con 
 sider our situation. Men are naturally inattentive to the de 
 cencies of life ; but why should I be so complaisant ? I say, 
 they are naturally filthy creatures. If it were not that their 
 connexion with the refined sex polished their manners, and 
 had a happy influence on the general economy of life, these 
 lords of the creation would wallow in filth, and populous cities 
 would infect the atmosphere with their noxious vapors. It is 
 the attention and assiduity of the women that prevent men 
 from degenerating into mere swine. How important then are 
 the services we render ; and yet for these very services we 
 are made the subject of ridicule and fun. Base ingratitude ! 
 Nauseous creatures ! Perhaps you may think I am in a pas 
 sion. No, sir, I do assure you I never was more composed 
 in my life, and yet it is enough to provoke a saint to see how 
 unreasonably we are treated by the men. Why now, there s 
 my husband a good-enough sort of a man in the main but 
 I will give you a sample of him. He comes into the parlor 
 the other day, where, to be sure, I was cutting up a piece of 
 linen. Lord ! says he, what a flutter here is ! I can t bear 
 to see the parlor look like a tailor s shop : besides, I am going 
 to make some important philosophical experiments, and must 
 have sufficient room. You must know my husband is one of 
 your would-be philosophers. Well, I bundled up my linen as 
 quick as T could, and began to darn a pair of ruffles, which 
 took no room, and could give nooiience. I thought, however, 
 I would watch my lord and master s important business. In 
 about half an hour the tables were covered with all manner of 
 trumpery, bottles of water, phials of drugs, pasteboard, paper 
 and cards, glue, paste, and gum-arabic ; files, knives, scissors, 
 needles, rosin, wax, silk, thread, rags, jags, tags, books, 
 pamphlets, and papers. Lord bless me ! I am almost out of 
 breath, and yet I have not enumerated half the artisles. 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 221 
 
 Well, to work he went, and although I did not understand th 
 object of his manoeuvres, yet I could sufficiently discover that 
 he did not succeed in any one operation. I was glad of that, I 
 confess, and with good reason too : for, after he had fatigued 
 himself with mischief, like a monkey in a china-shop, and 
 had called the servants to clear every thing away, I took a 
 view of the scene my parlor exhibited. I shall not even at 
 tempt a minute description 5 suffice it to say, that he had 
 overset his ink-stand, and stained my best mahogany table 
 with ink ; he had spilt a quantity of vitriol, and burnt a large 
 hole in my carpet : my marble hearth was all over spotted 
 with melted rosin : beside this, he had broken three china 
 cups, four wine-glasses, two tumblers, and one of my hand 
 somest decanters. And, after all, as I said before, I per 
 ceived that he had not succeeded in any one operation. By 
 the bye, tell your friend, the white-wash scribbler, that this is 
 one means by which our closets become furnished with halves 
 o^ china bowls, cracked tumblers, broken wine-glasses, tops 
 of tea-pots, and stoppers of departed decanters. I say, I took 
 a view of the dirt and devastation my philosophic husband had 
 occasioned ; and there I sat, like Patience on a monument, 
 smiling at grief; but it worked inwardly. I would almost as 
 soon the melted rosin and vitriol had been in his throat, as on 
 my dear marble hearth, and my beautiful carpet. It is not true 
 that women have no power over their own feelings ; for not 
 withstanding this provocation, I said nothing, or next to no 
 thing : for I only observed, very pleasantly, what a lady of 
 my acquaintance had told me, that the reason why philoso 
 phers are called literary men, is because they make a great 
 litter : not a word more : however, the servant cleared away, 
 ant] down sat the philosopher. A friend dropt in soon after 
 Your servant, sir, how do you do ?: O Lord, I am almost 
 fatigued to death ; I have been all the morning making philo 
 sophical experiments. I was now more hardly put to it to 
 smother a laugh, than I had been just before to contain my 
 rage; my precious went out soon after, and I, as you may 
 suppose, mustered all my forces : brushes, buckets, soap, 
 sand, limeskins, and cocoa-nut shells, with all the powers of 
 housewifery were immediately employed. I was certainly 
 the best philosopher of the two : for my experiments succeed 
 ed, and his did not. All was well again, except my poor car 
 pet my vifriolized carpet, which still continued a mournful 
 memento of philosophic fury, or rather philosophic folly. The 
 operation was scarce over, when in came my experimental 
 philosopher, and told me, with all the indifference in lh 
 
222 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 world, that he had invited six gentlemen to dine with him 
 at three o clock. It was then past one. I complained of the 
 short notice ; Poh ! poh ! said he, you can get a leg of mu 
 ton, and a loin of veal, and a lew potatoes, which will dow*>$ 
 enough. Heavens ! what a chaos must the head of a pby.-*- 
 sopher be ! a leg of mutton, a loin of veal, and potatoes ! I 
 was at a loss whether I should laugh or be angry ; but there 
 was no time for determining : I had but an hour and a half to 
 do a world of business in. My carpet, which had suffered in 
 the cause of experimental philosophy in the morning, WJB 
 destined to be most shamefully dishonored in the afternoon by 
 a deluge of nasty tobacco juice. Gentlemen smokers love se- 
 gars better than carpets. Think, sir, what a woman must 
 endure under such circumstances ; and then, after all, to be 
 reproached will her cleanliness, and to have her white-wash*- 
 ings, her scourings, and scrubbings made the subject of ridv 
 cule, it is more than patience can put up with. What I have 
 now exhibited is but a small specimen of the injuries we sustain 
 from the boasted superiority of men. But we will not be 
 laughed out of our cleanliness. A woman would rather be 
 called any thing than a slut, as a man would rather be thought 
 a knave than a fool. 1 had a great deal more to say, but am 
 called away; we are just preparing tc white-wash, and of 
 course I have a great deal of business on my hands. The 
 white-wash buckets are paraded, the brushes are ready, nav 
 husband is gone off so much the better ; when we are up.-u 
 a thorough cleaning, the first dirty thing to be removed is 
 one s husband. I am called for again. Adieu. 
 
 FINAL SPEECH OF DR. FRANKLIN IN THE LATE 
 
 FEDERAL CONVENTION.* 
 MR. PRESIDENT, 
 
 i CONFESS that I do not entirely approve of this constitu 
 tion at present ; but. Sir, I arn not sure I shall never ap 
 prove it; for having lived long, I have experienced many in 
 stances of being obliged, by better information, or fuller con 
 sideration, to change opinions even on important subjects, 
 which I once thougnt right, but found to be otherwise. It 
 s, therefore, that the older I grow, the more apt I am to 
 
 * Our reasons for ascribing this speech to Dr. Franklin, are ita 
 tcrnal evidence, and its having appeared with his name, during 
 s 1 if time unconiradirted ^ an American periodical publi 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 223 
 
 doubt my MWIJ judgment, and to pay more respect to the 
 judgment of others. Most men, indeed, as well as most 
 sects in religion, think themselves in possession of all truth, 
 and that whenever others differ from them, it is so far error. 
 Steel, a protestant, in a dedication, tells the Pope, that, 
 the only difference between our two churches, in their 
 opinions of the certainty of their doctrine is, the Roman 
 church is infallible, and the church of England never in the 
 wrong. But, though many private persons think almost as 
 highly of their own infallibility as that of their sect, few ex 
 press it so naturally as a certain French lady, who, in a lit 
 tle dispute with her sister, said, I don t know how it hap 
 pens, sister, but I meet with nobody but myself that is al 
 ways in the right. // n y a que moi qui a toujours raisan. 
 In these sentiments, Sir, I agree to this constitution, with 
 all its faults, if they are such ; because I think a general go 
 vernment necessary for us, and there is no form of govern 
 ment but what may be a blessing, if well administered ; and 
 I believe, farther, that this is likely to be well administered 
 for a course of years, and can only end in despotism, aa 
 other forms have done before it, when the people shall be 
 come so corrupted as to need despotic government, being 
 incapable of any other. I doubt, too, whether any other 
 convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better 
 constitution : for when you assemble a number of men, to 
 have the advantage of their joint wisdom, you inevitably as 
 semble with those men all their prejudices, their passions, 
 their errors of opinion, their local interests, and their selfish 
 views. From such an assembly can a perfect production 
 be expected? It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this 
 system approaching so near to perfection as it does ; and I 
 think it will astonish our enemies, who are waiting with con 
 fidence, to hear that our councils are confounded, like those 
 of the builders of Babel, and that our States are on the point 
 of separation, only to meet hereafter for the purpose of cut 
 ting each other s throats. 
 
 Thus I consent, Sir, to this constitution, because I expect 
 no better, and because I am not sure that this is not the 
 best. The opinions I have had of its errors I sacrifice to 
 the public good. I have never whispered a syllable of them 
 abroad. Within these walls they were born, and here thev 
 shall die. If every one of us, in returning to our constitu 
 ents, were to report the objections he has had to it, and en 
 deavor to gain partisans in support of them, we might pre 
 sent its being generally received, and thereby lose all the 
 
224 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 salutary effects and great advantages resulting naturally ia 
 our favor among foreign nations, as well as among ourselves, 
 Irom our real or apparent unanimity. Much of the strength 
 and efficiency of any government, in procuring and securing 
 happiness to the people, depends on opinion; on the general 
 opinion of the goodness of that government, as well as of the 
 wisdom and integrity of its govenors. 
 
 I hope, therefore, that for our own sakes, as a part of the 
 
 nle, and for the sake of our posterity, we shall act hearti- 
 nd unanimously in recommending this constitution, 
 wherever our influence may extend, and turn our future 
 thoughts and endeavors to the means of having it well admi 
 nistered. 
 
 On the whole, Sir, I cannot help expressing a wish, that 
 everv member of the Convention, who may still have objec 
 tions , would with me, on this occasion, doubt a little of his 
 own infallibility, and, to make manifest our unanimity, put 
 his name to (his instrument. 
 
 [The motion was then made for adding the last formula, 
 viz. 
 
 Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent, &c. 
 which was agreed to, and added accordingly.] 
 
 PREFERENCE OF BOWS AND ARROWS IN WAR TO 
 FIRE-ARMS. 
 
 TO MAJOR-GENERAL XEE. 
 
 DEAR SIR, Philadelphia, Feb. 11, 173G. 
 
 THE bearer, Mons. Arundel, is directed by the Congress 
 to repair to General Schuyler, in order to be employed by 
 him in the artillery service. He proposes to wait on you ia 
 his way, and has requested me to introduce him by a line 
 to you. He has been an officer in the French service, as 
 you will see by his commissions ; and, professing a good will 
 to our cause, I hope he may be useful in instructing our 
 gunners and matrosses : perhaps he may advise in opening 
 the nailed cannon. 
 
 I received the enclosed the other day from an officer, Mr 
 Newland, who served in the two last wars, and was known 
 by General Gates, who spoke well of him to me when I was 
 at Cambridge. He is desirous now of entering into your 
 service. I have advised him to wait upon you at New. 
 York. 
 
 They still talk big in England, and threaten hard ; but 
 their language is somewhat civiller. at least not quite so dis* 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FR VNKLIN. 225 
 
 respectful to us. By degrees they come to their senses; 
 but too late, I fancy, for their interest. 
 
 We have got a large quantity of saltpetre, one hundred 
 and twenty tons, and thirty more expected. Powder mills 
 are now wanting ; 1 believe we must set to work and make 
 it by hand. But I still wish, with you, that pikes could be 
 introduced, and I would add bows and arrows : these were 
 good weapons, and not wisely laid aside. 
 
 1. Because a man may shoot as truly with a bow as with 
 a common musket. 
 
 2. He can discharge four arrows u the time of charging 
 and discharging one bullet. 
 
 3. His object is not taken from his view by the smoke of 
 his own side. 
 
 4. A flight of arrows seen coming upon them terrifies and 
 disturbs the enemy s attention to his business. 
 
 5. An arrow sticking in any part of a man, puts him hors 
 du combat till it is extracted. 
 
 6. Bows and arrows are more easily provided every where 
 than muskets and ammunition. 
 
 Polydore Virgil, speaking of one of our battles against the 
 French in Edward the Third s reign, mentions the great 
 confusion the enemy was thrown into, sagiWirum nube, from 
 the English; and concludes, Est res profecto dictu mirabilis 
 ut tantus ac potens exercitus a solis ferd Anglicis sagittariis 
 vietus fuerit ; adeo Anglus est sagittipotens, et id genus or- 
 morum valet. If so much execution was done by arrows 
 when men wore some defensive armor, how much more 
 might be done now that it is out of use ! 
 
 I am glad you are come to New- York, but I also wish 
 you could be in Canada. There is a kind of suspense in 
 men s minds here at present, waiting to see what terms will 
 be offered from England. I expect none that we can ac 
 cept; and when that is generally seen, we shall be more 
 unanimous and more decisive : then your proposed solemn 
 league and convenant will go better down, and perhaps most 
 of our other strong measures be adopted. 
 
 I am always glad to hear from you, but I do not deserve 
 your favors, being so bad a correspondent. My eyes will 
 now hardly serve me to write by night, and these short days 
 have been all taken up by such variety of business that I 
 geldom can sit down ten minutes without interruption God 
 give you success ! 
 
 I am, with the greatest esteem, 
 
 Yours affectionately, 
 15 B. 
 
22S LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIX. 
 
 ON THE THEORY OF THE EARTH 
 
 TO ABBE SOXJLIAVE. 
 
 SIB, Passy, September 22, 1782. 
 
 I RETURN the papers with some corrections. I did not 
 find coal-mines under the calcareous rock in Derbyshire. I 
 only remarked, that at the lowest part of that rocky mountain 
 which was in sight, there were oyster shells mixed with the 
 stone ; and part of the high country of Derby being probably 
 as much above the level of the sea as the coal-mines of 
 Whitehaven were below, it seemed a proof that there had 
 been a great bouleyersement in the surface of that island, 
 some part of it having been depressed under the sea, and 
 other parts, which had been under it, being raised above it. 
 Such changes in the superficial parts of the globe seemed to 
 me unlikely to happen if the earth were solid at the centre. 
 I therefore imagined that the internal parts might be a fluid 
 more dense, and of greater specific gravity than any of the 
 solids we are acquainted with ; which therefore might swim 
 in or upon that fluid. Thus the surface of the globe would 
 be a shell, capable of being broken and disordered by the 
 violent movements of the fluid on which it rested. And as 
 air nas been compressed by art so as to be twice as dense as 
 water, in which case, if such air and water could be contained 
 in a strong glass vessel, the air would be seen to take the 
 lowest place, and the water to float above and upon it ; and, 
 as we know not yet the degree of density to which air may 
 De compressed, and M. Amontons calculated, that its densi 
 ty incretsing as it approached the centre in the same propor 
 tion JLS above the surface, it would, at the depth of leagues, 
 be heavier than golJ, possibly the dense fluid occupying th 
 internal parts of the globe might be air compressed. And 
 as the force of expansion in dense air when heated, is in pro 
 portion to its density ; this central air might afford another 
 agent to move the surface, as well as be of use in keeping 
 alive the central fires ; though, as you observe, the sudden 
 rarefaction of water, coming into contact with those fires, may 
 be an agent sufficiently strong for that purpose, when act 
 ing between the incumbent earth, and the fluid on which it 
 rests. 
 
 If one might indulge imagination in supposing how such a 
 g.i>M> \vus formed, I should conceive, that all the elements U- 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 22T 
 
 separate particles, being originally mixed in confusion, and 
 occupying a great space, they wouid (as soon as the Almigh 
 ty fiat ordained gravity, or the mutual attraction of certain 
 parts, and the mutual repulsion of other parts, to exist) 
 all move towards their common centre ; that the air being 
 a fluid whose parts repel each other, though drawn to the 
 common centre by their gravity, would be densest toward* 
 the centre, and rarer as more remote; consequently, afl 
 bodies, lighter than the central parts of that air, and im 
 mersed in it, would recede from the centre and rise till they 
 arrive at that region of the air which was of the same spe 
 cific gravity wilh themselves, where they would rest ; while 
 other matter mixed with the lighter air, would descend, and the 
 two, meeting, would form the shell of the first earth, leaving the 
 upper atmosphere nearly clear. The original movement of 
 the parts towards their common centre would form a whirl 
 there : which would continue in the turning of the new formed 
 globe upon its axis, and the greatest diameter of the shell 
 would be in its equator. If by any accident afterward the 
 axis should be changed, the dense internal fluid, by altering 
 its form, must burst the shell, and throw all its substance into 
 the confusion in which we find it. I will not trouble you at 
 present with my fancies concerning the manner of forming 
 the rest of our system. Superior beings smile on our Theo 
 ries, and at our presumption in making them. I will just 
 mention that your observation of the ferruginous nature of 
 the lava, which is thrown out from the depths of our volca 
 noes gave me great pleasure. It has long been a supposition 
 of mine, that the iron contained in the substance of the globe 
 has made it capable of becoming, as it is, a great magnet ; 
 that the fluid of magnetism exists perhaps in all space ; so 
 that there is a magnetical North and South of the universe, 
 as well as of this globe ; and that if it were possible for a 
 man to fly from star to star, he might govern his course by 
 the compass : that it was by the power of this general mag 
 netism this globe became a particular magnet. In soft or 
 hot iron the fluid of magnetism is naturally diffused equally ; 
 when within the influence of a magnet, it is drawn to one end 
 of the iron, made denser there anoT rarer at the other. While 
 the iron continues soft and hot, it is only a temporary mag 
 net ; if it cools or grows hard in that situation, it becomes a 
 permanent one, the magnetic fluid not easily resuming ite 
 equilibrium. Perhaps it may be owing to the permanent 
 magnetism of this globe, which it had not at first, that its 
 axis is at present kept parallel to itself, and not liable to the 
 
228 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 changes it formerly suffered, which occasioned the rupture of 
 its shell, the submersions and emersions of its lands, and the 
 confusion of its seasons. The present polar and equatorial 
 diameters differing from each other near ten leagues, it is 
 easy to conceive, in case some power should shift the axis 
 gradually, and place it in the present equator, and make the 
 new equator pass through the present poles, what a sinking 
 of waters would happen in the present equatorial regions 
 and what a rising in the present polar regions; so that 
 vast tracts would be discovered that now are under water, 
 and others covered that now are dry, the water rising 
 and sinking in the different extremes near five leagues ! 
 Such an operation as this possibly occasioned much of Eu 
 rope, and, among the rest, of this mountain of Passy, on 
 which I live, and which is composed of limestone, rock, and 
 sea-shells, to be abandoned by the sea, and to change its an 
 cient climate, which seems. to have been a hot one. The 
 globe being now become a perfect magnet, we are perhaps 
 safe from any future change of its axis. But we are still 
 subject to the accidents on the surface, which are occasioned 
 by a wave in the internal ponderous fluid : and such a wave 
 is produced by the sudden violent explosion you mention, 
 happening from the junction of water and fire under the earth, 
 which not only lifts the incumbent earth that is over the ex 
 plosion, but impressing with the same force the fluid under it, 
 creates a wave that may run a thousand leagues, lifting, and 
 thereby shaking successively, all the countries under which 
 it passes. I know not whether I have expressed myself so 
 clearly, as not to get out of your sight in these reveries. If 
 they occasion any new inquiries, and produce a better hypo 
 thesis, they will not be quite useless. You see I have given 
 a loose to imagination, but I approve much more your method 
 of philosophizing, which proceeds upon actual observation, 
 makes a collection of facts, and concludes no farther than 
 those facts will warrant. In my present circumstances, that 
 mode of studying the nature of the globe is out of my power, 
 and therefore I have permitted myself to wander a little in 
 the wilds of fancy. With great esteem, I have the honor to 
 be, Sir, &c. 
 
 B. FRANKLIW. 
 
 P. S. I have heard that chemists can by their art decom 
 pose stone and wood, extracting a considerable quantity of 
 water from the one, and air from the other. It seems natural 
 to conclude from this, that water and air were ingredients in 
 their original composition ; for men cannot make new matter 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 229 
 
 of any kind. In the same manner do we not suppose, that 
 when we consume combustibles of all kinds, and produce 
 heat or ugm, we do not create that heat or light, we only 
 decompose a substance which received it originally as a part 
 of its composition ? Heat may thus be considered as ori 
 ginally in a fluid state ; but, attracted by organized bodies in 
 their growth, becomes a part of the solid. Besides this, I 
 can conceive that, in the first assemblage of the particles of 
 which this earth Js composed, each brought its portion of the 
 loose heat that had been connected with it, and the whole, 
 when pressed together, produced the internal fire which stili 
 subsists. 
 
 LOOSE THOUGHTS] 
 
 OX THE UNIVERSAL XXUID, &C. 
 
 Pasty, June 25, 1784. 
 
 F UNIVERSAL space, as far as we know of it, seems to be 
 filled with subtle fluid, whose motion, or vibration, is called 
 light. 
 
 This fluid may possibly be the same with that which, be 
 ing attracted by and entering into other more solid matter, 
 dilates the substance, by separating the constituent particles, 
 and so rendering some solids fluid, and maintaining the fluid 
 ity of others : of which fluid when our bodies are totally de 
 prived, they are said to be frozen ; when they have a proper 
 quantity they are in health, and fit to perform all their func 
 tions ; it is then called natural heat : when too much, it is 
 called fever ; and when forced into the body in too great a 
 quantity from without, it gives pain by separating and de 
 stroying the flesh, and is then called burning ; ana the fluid 
 so entering and acting is called fire. 
 
 While organized bodies, animal or vegetable, are augment 
 ing in growth, or are supplying their continual waste, is not 
 this done by attracting and consolidating this fluid called fire, 
 so as to form of it a part of their substance? and is it not a 
 separation of the parts of such substance, which, dissolving 
 its solid state, sets that subtle fluid at liberty, when it again 
 makes its appearance as fire? 
 
 For the power of man relative to matter seems limited to 
 the dividing it, or mixing the various kinds of it, or changing 
 its form and appearance by different compositions of it 5 but 
 does not extend to the making or creating of new matter, or 
 annihilating the old : thus, if fire be an original element, or 
 kind of matter, its quantity is fixed and permanent in tho 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OP FRANKLIN. 
 
 world. We cannot destroy any part of it, or make addition 
 to it ; we can only separate it from that which confines it, 
 and set it at liberty, as when we put wood in a situation to 
 be burnt ; or transfer it from one solid to another, as when 
 we make lime by burning stone, a part of the fire dislodged 
 from the wood being left in the stone. May not this fluid 
 when at liberty be capable of penetrating and entering into 
 all bodies, organized or not ; quitting easily in totality those 
 not organized ; and quitting easily in part those which ire ; 
 the part assumed and fixed remaining till the body is dis 
 solved? 
 
 It is not this fluid which keeps asunder the particles of air, 
 permitting them to approach, or separating them more, in 
 proportion as its quantity is diminished or argumented. Is it 
 not the greater gravity of the particles of air, which forces 
 the particles of this fluid to mount with the matters to which 
 it is attached, as smoke or vapour ? 
 
 Does it not seem to have a great affinity with water, since 
 it will quit a solid to unite with that fluid, and go off with it 
 in vapor, leaving the solid eold to the touch, and the degree 
 measurable by the thermometer 1 
 
 The vapor rises attached to this fluid , but at a certain 
 height they separate, and the vapor descends in rain, retain- 
 ing but little of it, in snow or hail less. What becomes of 
 that fluid ? Does it rise above our atmosphere, and mix 
 equally with the universal mass of the same kind ? Or-does a 
 spherical stratum of it, denser, or less mixed with air, at 
 tracted by this globe, and repelled or pushed up only to a cer 
 tain height from its surface, by the greater weight of air, re 
 main there surrounding the globe, and proceeding with it 
 round the sun? 
 
 In such case, as there may be a continuity or communi 
 cation of this fluid through the air quite down to the earth, is 
 it not by the vibrations given to it by the sun that light ap 
 pears to us ; and may it not be, that every one of the infinite 
 ly small vibrations, striking common matter with a certain 
 force, enter its substance, are held there by attraction, and 
 augmented by succeeding vibrations, till the matter has re 
 ceived as much as their force can drive into it? 
 
 Is it not thus that the surface of this globe is continually 
 heated by such repeated vibrations in the day, and cooled by 
 the escape of the heat when those vibrations are discon 
 tinued in the night, or intercepted and reflected by clouds ? 
 
 Is it not thus that fire is amassed, and makes the greatest 
 pa.rt of the substance of combustible bodies? 
 
LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 331 
 
 Perhaps when this globe was first formed, and its original 
 particles took their place at certain distances from the centre, 
 in proportion to their greater or less gravity, th fluid fire, 
 attracted towards that centre, might in great part be obliged, 
 as lightest, to take place above the rest, ana thus form the 
 sphere of fire above supposed, which would afterward be 
 continually diminishing by the substance it afforded to orga 
 nized bodies ; and the quantity restored to it again by the 
 burning or other separating of the parts of those bodies. 
 
 Is not the natural heat of animals thus produced, by sepa 
 rating in digestion the parts of food, and setting their fire at li 
 berty? I 
 
 Is it not this sphere of fire which kindles the wandering 
 globes that sometimes pass through it in our course round the 
 sun, have their surface kindled by it and burst when their in 
 cluded air is greatly rarified by the heat on their burning our* 
 faces ? 
 
 THE END. 
 

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