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a“. |THE

LIFE AND ESSAYS

OF

DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN,

COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME.

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PUBLISHED BY LEARY & GETZ.
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a6PREFACE.

EVERY civilized nation on the globe, has, at one period or
other, produced distinguisheu individuals, whose actions have
excited the admiration of their contemporaries, and rendered
them worthy of being handed down as examoples to posteri-
tv. ‘The Memoirs of Dr. Franklin are interesting in a high
degree, 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 Abbé Raynal, that ‘ America has not yet
produced 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 mquire
from what unfriendly causes it has proceeded, that the other
countries of Europe and quarters of the earth shall not have
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. statlon among
the most celebrated worthies of the world, when that wretched
philosophy shall be forgotten which wouldarrange 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,’ &e.iv PREF a DE.

In Philosophy England can boast of a Bacon, whose Eis-
says is one of the best proofs we can adduce of his transcena:
ant abilities; and America claims the enlightened FRang-
Lin, whose Life and Writings are the subject of the following
sheets.

It will only be necessary to 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 m-
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 [ understand that since he sent over
the copy, which I have read, he has been able to make no ad-
ditions to it. Itis 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 account
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 National
Assembly of France had determined to go into mourning for
him.—What a glorious scene is opened there? The annals
of the world furnish no parallel to it. One of the honors of
our departed fricnd is, that he has contributed much to it.

‘I am, with great respect,
‘Your ebliged and very humble servant,
‘ RicHARD Price.”THE LIFE AND ESSAYS

OF

DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN

 

My Dear Son,

[ 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
tome. Ishall 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 whieh 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
8% similar situation, derive some advantage from my narrative.

When I reflect, as I frequently do, upon the ae) 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 same career of life. All I would ask, should be the pri-
vilege of an author, to correct, in a second edition, certain6 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

errors of the first. I could wish, likewise, if it were 1n my
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, te
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 m-
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, [ 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 crownec
them with success. My faith in this respect, leads me to
hope, though 1 camnot 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 afilictions subservient to our
benefit.

One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of collecting aneo
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 (Katon
iz Northamptonshire}, upor a freehold of about thirty acres,LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. %

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 ever 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 Haton 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 laudibus
legum Anglia, written about the year 1412, in which is the fol.
lowing passage, to show that good juries might easily be formed
in any part of England.

‘Regio etiam illa, 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-familias, qualis
ibidem franklin vulgariter nuncupater, magnis ditatus possessi-
onibus, nec non libere tenentes et alii valectz plurimi, suis patri-
moniis sufficientes, ad faciendum juratam, in forma prenotata.?

‘Moreover the same country is so filled and replenished with
landed menne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot be found
wherein dwelleth not a knight, an esquire, or such a househclder
as is there coinmonly called a franklin, enriched with great pos-
sessions; and also other freeholders and many yeomen, 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 frankélin 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.8 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRAN KLIN.

a dyer, resided, and w.ith whom my father was appreni.
Heed. He died, and was buried 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,

e present proprietor.

- My peandeather 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 ;
soon became an essential personage in the affairs of the vile
lage; and was one of the chief movers of every public entere
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 born. The recital that was made us of his life and
character, by some aged persons of the village, struck you,
I remember, as extraordinary, from its analogy to what
you knew of myself. ‘Had he died,’ said you, ‘just four
years later, one might have supposed a transmigration of
souls,

John, to the best of my belief, was brought up to the trade
of a wool-dyer.

Benjamin served his apprenticeship in London to a silk-
dyer. He was an industrious man: I remember him well ;
for, while I was a child, he joined my father at Boston, and
lived for some years in the house with us. A particular af-
fection had always subsisted between my father and him ; and
I was his godson. He arrived to a greatage. 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, 1 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 ac«LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 8

cording to the expeditory method he had devised. Many
volumes were thus collected by him. He was also extremes
ty fond of politics ; too much so, perhaps, for his situation. {
lately found in London a collectioa which he had made of all
the principal pamphlets relative to public affairs, from the
year 1641 to i717. Many volumes are wanting, as appears
by the series of numbers ; but there still remain eight in folio,
and twenty-four in quarto and octave. The collection had
fallen into the hands of a second-hand bookseller, who know~
iug me by having sold me some books, brought it to me. My
ancle, it seems, bad left it behind him on his departure for
America, about fifty years ago. I found various notes of his
writing inthe margins, His grandson, Samuel, is now liv-
ing at Boston.

Our humble family had early embraced the Reformation,
‘Shey remained faithfully attached during the reign of Queen
Mary, when they were in danger of being molested on ace
count of their zeal agaimst 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. Wher
me great-grandfather wished to read to his family, he reverse
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 restered 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. ‘he rest of the family continued in the episco-
pal church.

My 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,
aud 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 te 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 ali
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
Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colonists
of New England, of whom Cotton Mather makes honor-
able mention, in his Ecclesiastical History of that province,
as ‘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
yn the year 1675, and is m 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. Too this pere
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 cor=
cluding lines, though I have forgotten the order of words ot
the two first ; the sense of which was, that his censures were
cictated by benevolence, and that, of consequence, he wisn-
ed 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 me for the church
and already regarded me as the chaplain of my 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-
sured him that I should one day certainly become a man of

 

* Town jn the is’and of Nante ket.LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 1

retters, confirmed him in this design. My uncle Benjamin
approved also of the scheme, and promised to give me all his
volumes of sermons, written, as I have said, in the short-
hand of his invention, if I would take the pains to learn it.

I remained, however, scarcely a year at the grammars
school, although, in this short interval, I had risen from the
middle to the head of my class, from hanes 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
poorly provided for, he renounced his first intentions, took me
from the grammar-school, and sent me to a school for writing
and arithmetic , kept by a Mr. George Brow oY ell, who was a
skilful master, and succeeded very well in his profe ssion 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 of ten 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-

renticeship, but which he embraced on his arrival in New
Findiaan because he found his own, that of dyer, in too little
request to enable him to maintain his family. I w as accord
ingly employed in cutting the wicks, filling the moulds, taking
care of the shop, carrying messages, &c,

This business displ leased me, and T 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. é

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.CA mane ms oy

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12 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

My propusal was to erect a wharf that should afford us firm
fooung ; and £ pointed out to my companions a large heap of
Stones, istended for the building a new house near the marsh,
and whic’ were well adapted for our purpose. Accordingly,
when the workmen retired in the evening, I assembleda num-
ber of my play-fellows, and by laboring diligently, like ants,
sometimés 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-
guiries 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 ; ard though F 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 agreeab!s, 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 oceasion, use the
tools of @ variety of trades. But his greatest excellence was
# sound understanding and solid judgment in matters of prue
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 belonged, 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.

Fie was fond of having at his table, as often as possible,
some friends or well-informed neighbors, capable of rationa?
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

an aLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN, 1a

pon the table, never discussed whether they were well or
il-dressed, of a good or bad flavor, high-seasoned, or other-
wise, preferable or inferior to this or that dish of a similar
kind. ‘Thus accustomed, from my infancy, to the utmost 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 recotlect, a few hours afier I had dined, of what my dintier
had consisted. When travelling, I have particuiarly expe-
rienced the advantage of this habit; 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

‘“‘Jostas FRANKLIN and ABIAH his wife: They lived to-
‘gether with reciprocal affection for fifty-nme 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.

“

n

‘ Fle 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 quitted14 LIFE AND ESSAYS GF 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
f was placed for some days upon trial with my cousin Sa-
muel, son of my uncle Benjamin, who had learned this trade
im 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 ofthem. 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
[read continually, and I still regard as advantageously eme
ployed the time I devoted to them. I found besiaes a work
of De Foe’s, entitled an Essay on Projects, from which, pers
naps, I derived impressions that haye since influenced some
of the principal events of my life.LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 1g

Ny 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, witha
press and types, in order to establish a printing-house at Bos.
ton. This business pleased me much better than that of my
father, thouch 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 years ofage. It was agreed that I should serve
as apprentice to the age 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. Thad
now an opportunity of procuring better books. The acquaini«
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
reading by my 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 ofme. He invited me to see
his library, and had the goodness tolend 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 find his account in it, encouraged me, and engaged me
to 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
checked 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 the
faculty of writing prose has been of great service to me in
the course of my life, and principally contributed to my ad.pete men Tae

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16 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

vancement, I shall relate by what means, situated as | was,
T acquired the small skill I may possess in that way.

There was in the town another young man, a great lover
of books, of the name of John Collins, with whom I was m-
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 very
bad habit, and frequently renders a man’s company insup-

ortable, 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 coma
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-
athanetl 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 ittohim. He answered, andI 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 writmg. He observed,
that though I had the advantage of my adgersary in correct
spelling and pointing, which I owed to WpMRcapation, 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
mto my hands. This was a publication I had never seen.
{ bought the volume, and read it again and again. I was en-LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 17
chanted withit, 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 essays 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; { perceived some faults, which I cor-
rected: but I found that I wanted a fund of words, if I may
“0 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 ot
the tales of the Spectator and turned them into verse ; and,
afier 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 af-
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 reads
ig, 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 J
thought I bad 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 not
keep house, but bearded with bis apprentices in a neighbor-
ing family. My-refusing to eat animal food was found mcon-
venient, and I was often scolded for my singularity. I ateam PATE
ae oe teers AR ate a eT

18 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN

tended to the mode in which Tyron prepared some of hig
dishes, particularly how to boil potatoes and rice, and mae
hasty puddings. Ithen said to my brother, that if he neue
allow me per week half what he paid for my board, I woul
undertake to maintain myself. ‘The offer was instantly em-
praced, and I soon found that of what he gave me . 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 ol
vread 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 J
nad twice failed to learn while at school, I took Cocker’s T'rea-
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,
naving 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-
nowncing blunt contradiction, and direct and positive argu-
ment, [assumed the character of an humble questioner. The
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
as the most embarrassing to those against whom I employed it.
{t 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 difli-
culties from which they were unable to extricate themselves,
and sometimes obtained victories, which neither mv cause
hor my arguments merited,LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANELIN. 19
This method I continued to employ for some years; but I
afierwards abandoned it by degrees, retaining only the habit
cf 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-
ached to my opinion. [ 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 amnot mistaker This habit
has, I think, been of considerable advantage + 1. e, when [|
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 forgot.
And in the same poem he afterward adviges_us,
To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence.
He might have added to these lines, one that he has coue
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 vou the
twé lines together :
Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense.SS eee

~~ samen pend AES ate telienoanbehts

COREY oe

  

     
   
   
  

20 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

Now want of sense, when a matt has the misfort™e to be sa
eircumstanced, is it notan 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.
Brit I leave the decision of this to better Judges than myself,

In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to print a new pubiic

paper. It was the second that made its appearance in Ame-
rica, and was entitled the ‘ New England Courant. Te
oniy one that existed before was the ‘ Boston News Letter.’
Some of his friends, I 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, afier 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 hitherte
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 equaliy approved : keeping the se-
cret till my slender stock of information and knowledge forLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 2i

such performances was pretty completely exhausted, when }
made myself known.

My brother, upon this discovery. began to entertain a little
more respect for me; but.he still regarded himself as my
master, and treated me 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 betier
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, [have ever preserved.
My apprenticeship became insupportable to me, and I con-
tinually sighed for an opportunity of shortening it, which at
lenzth unexpectedly offered.

An article inserted in our paper, upon some political sub-~
ject which I have now forgotten, gave offence to the Assem-

ly. 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, aud
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.

e 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
£ 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 name22 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

pf Benjamin Franklin; and, to avoid the censure of tae As-
sembly, who might charge him with still prmtmg the paper
nimself, under the name of his apprentice, it was resolved
-hat my old indentures should be given up to me with a full and
entire discharge written on the back, in order to be prod.ced
apon an emergency: but that, to secure to my brother the
penefit of my service, I should signa new contract, which
should be kept secret during the remainder of the term. This
was a very shallow arrangement. It was, however, carried
mato 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
value, 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
ultemper, 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-
ion, 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 remaming, I should soon have been exposed to
difficulues, which I hai 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 my 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 of
consequence I could neither make my appearance, nor go off

Men ISN en Re nena ee oe =LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 23

aie

publicly. I sold part of my books to procure a small sumo
money, and went privately on board the sloop. By favor of
a good wind, I found myself in three days at New-York

nearly three hundred miles from my home, at the age only of
seventeen years, without knowing an individual in the place

und 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 todo, and already as many
persons as he wanted ; but he told me that his son, printer a:
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 squall, 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 ito 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 little, so that he fell asleep, after havmg taken from his
pocket a volume which he requested me todry. This vo-
lume I found to be my old favorite work, Bunyan’s Pilgrim,
in Dutch, a beautiful impression on fine paper, with copper -
plate engravings ; a dress in which I had never seen itm 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 |
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 ini
the company, and present at the conversation. Defoe has
imitated it with success in his Robinson Crusoe, his Moli
Flanders, 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 oe
part of the coast where it was not possible to land, on ae
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 ; butthe 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 remamed 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, whowas drenchs
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 boitle 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 m
Journey on foot. I had fifty miles to waik, in order to reaeh
Burlington, where I was told I should find passage-boats
that would convey me to Philadelphia. It rained hard the
whole day, so that I was wet to the skin, Finding myselt
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
assuch, 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 hadread a little, he
expressed towards me considerable imterest and pees

Uur acquaintance continued during the remainder of his lifeLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 23

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 m, arrival, I had the mortification to
learn that the ordinary passage-boats had sailed a little bes
fore. This was on a Saturday, and there would be no other
boat till the Tuesday following. I returned to the 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 travelled 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 would 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, I 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 company found the place in which we were to be Coop-
er’s Creek, a little above Philadelphia ; which, in reality, we
perceived the 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 ray first entrance into this city,26 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

that you may be able to compare beginnings so little auspi-
cious, with the figure I have since mace. ;

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. F'atigued 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, 1n 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 tome. [
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 me, and
thought with reason, that I made a very singular and gro-
esque appearance.

I then turned the corner, and went through Chesnut-street.
eating my roll all the way; and having made this round, [
found myself again in Market-street wharf, near the boat in
which I arrived. I stept into it totake a draught of the river
water; and, finding myself satisfied with my first roll, I gave
ehe 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-
house near the market-place. I sat down with the rest, and,SS
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FRANKLINLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 27

after looking round for some time, hearing nothing said, and,
veing drowsy from my last night’s labor and want of rest, L
ell ito 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 T
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 { 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 dimer my drowsiness returned, and I threw myself
upon a bed, without taking off my clothes, and slept tall 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 printer.
! 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, hay-
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

ave need of his services.’

Keimer asked me some questions, put a composing-stick
m 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 toemployme. At the same time taking old Bradford
for an inhabitant of the town well-disposed towards him, he28 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

commnnicated his project to him, and the prospect he had of
success. Bradfora was careful not to discover that he was
the father of the other printer ; and from what Keimer had
said, 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 should 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 lodge ng.

In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off his elegy. He
had now procured another set of letter-cases, and hada 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. 23

furnished ; so that he could not take mein. He procured me
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. Being 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 my letter, took occasion to speak
of me, and showed it him. The Governor réad it, and ap-
peared surprised when he learned my 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 I
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 reiated all this tome 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, ani Kei-
mer, believing it to be a visit to himself, went immed:.celySame

See
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ON erat te

30 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

down : but the Governor ingnired 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 arrivalin the town, and
wished me to accompany him to a tavern, where he and Co-
one] 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 toa 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
by the first vessel, with the letter of recommendation, from
the Governor to my father. Meanwhile the project was tobe
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
pup without intermission; I took my turn. We arrived,

owever, 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,

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and, except my brother, welcomed me home. I went to him
at the printing-house. I was better dressed than I had ever
been while in his service: I had a complete suit of clothes,
new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my purse was fur-
nished with nearly five pounds sterlmg in money. He gave
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 likedit. 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 saia
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 o1
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-

 

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b32 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLAN.

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 civi.
to every body, to endeavor to obtain general esteem, and avoid
satire and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too mush in-
clined ; adding, that with perseverance and prudent economy,
{ might, by the time I became of age, Save enough to esia~
bush myseif in business ; and that if a small sum should then
be wanting, he would undertake to supply it. o

This was all I could obtain from him, except some trifling
presents, in token of friendship from him and my mother. |
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, [ paid a visit to my brother
John, who had for some years been sett.ed there, and was
married. He had always been attached to me, and he re-
ceived me with great affection. One of his friends, whose
name was Vernon, having a debt of about ‘thirty-six pounds
due to him in Pennsylvania, begged me to receive it for him,
and 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, in 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 obligs
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 so ill of them as she
did, she related many things she had seen and heard, which
had escaped my attention, but which convinced me that she
was in the right. I thanked her for her obliging advice, and
promised to follow it.—_— a .
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GOVERNOR BURNET SHOWING FRANKLIN HIS LIBRARY

°LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 33

When we arrived at New-York, they informed me where
they lodged, and invited me to come and see them. I did
not however go, and it was well | 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-
saped 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, tha.
every day since his arrival at New-York he had been intoal-
cated, and had acted im 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 hada 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 avery 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

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‘i34 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN,’

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

Some other young persons, he refused to take his turn in row-
ag. ‘ You shall row for me,’ said he, § till we get home.’—
‘No,’ I replied, ‘ we will not row for you.’—~ You Shall,’ said
he, ‘or remain upon the water all night.’—£ As you please.’
—‘ Let us row,’ said the rest of the company ; ‘what 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 tome. As soon as he

T 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 few 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 itis 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 strength be~
gan to be exhausted, we took him into the boat, and convey-
ed him home in the evening completely drenched. The ute
most coldness subsisted between us afier this adventure. At
‘ast 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 leaye 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
my 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 withLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 38

discretion, neither was youth in every instance 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 articles. You
shall repay me when you can. I am determined to have a
good printer here, and. I am sure you will succeed.’ This
was said with so much seeming cordiality, that I suspected
not for an instant the sincerity of the offer. I had hitherte
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.
Butthaving never solicited him, how could I suppose his of-
fers to be deceitful 2? On the contrary, I believed him to be
the best man in the world.

I gave him an inventory of a sma.l printing-office ; the ex-
pense of which I had calculated at about a hundred pounds
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 acknowledg=
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-
pe voyages between the ports of London and Philadelphia.

ut the Annis was not to sail for some months. JI therefore
continued to work with Keimer, unhappy respecting the sum
which Collins had drawn from me, and almost in continual
agony at the thoughts of 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. Duringa 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-
tien, since these animals had neither done, nor were capa-

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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.

[ 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 fromthe 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 that 2
Fience 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 Moses 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. [
disliked them both; but I consented to ‘adopt them, provided
he would agree to abstain from animal food. ‘ I doubt. said
he, ‘ whether my constitution will be able to support it,’ I
assured him, on the contrary, that he would find himself the
better for it. Hewas naturally a glutton, and I wished to
amuse myself by starving him. He consented to make trial
wf this regimen, if I would bear him company ; and, in ree

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ality, we continued it for three months. A woman in the
neighborhood prepared and brought us our victuals, te
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 eight-
cen pence a week

I have since that period observed several Lents with the
greatest strictness, and have suddenly returned again to my
ordinary diet, without experiencing the smallest 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 tern-
bly. ‘Tired of the project, he sighed for the flesh pots of
Egypt. At length he ordered a roast pig, and invited me
and two of our female acquaintances to dine with him; but
the pig being ready a little too soon he could not resist the
temptation, and eat it all up before we arrived,

During the circumstances I have related, I had paid some
attention to Miss Read. I entertained for her the utmost
esteem and affection; and I had reason to believe that these
sentiments were mutual. But we were both young, scarcely
more than eighteen years of age ; and, as I was on the point
of undertaking a long voyage, her mother thought it prudent
to prevent matters been carried too far for the present,
Judging that, if marriage was our object, there would be
more propriety init 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 not 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 fond of readmg. The two first were 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
and affectionate in his friendships, but too much inclined to
Ae critic in matters of literature. Ralph was ingenuous and

hrewd, genteel in his address, and extremely eloquent. I
not remember to have met with a more agreeable speakers,38 LiF AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

They were both enamoured of the muses, and had aireagg
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
tume acquire the means of setting up for yourself.’ I concur-
red in these sentiments, but at the same time expressea 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
m 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
See psalm, in which is described the descent of the

elty,

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, and ask-
ed me what I thought of it. I expressed myself in terms ot
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 many faults. We next
read Osborne’s, which was much better. Ralph did it jus»

 

 

 

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1)

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deaf nec Mare Boo

tae tl TEE ese es n-neLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 38

tice, remarking a few imperfections, and applaudirg such
parts as were excellent. He had himself nothing to show. It
was now my turn. I made some difficulty ; seemed as if |
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. It was read and re-read.
Watson and Osborne immediately resigned the palm, and
united in applauding it. Ralph alone made a few remarks,
and proposed some alterations ; but I 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 fire! He has surpassed the ori-
ginal. In his common conversation he appears not to have
a choice of words; he hesitates, and is ata 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 the
other two, I ought to observe here, that Watson died a few
years after in my arms. He was greatly regretted; for he
was the best of our society. Osborne went to the islands,
where he gained considerable reputation as a barrister, and
was getting money; but he died young. We had 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 ot

 

* 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!iH

|

 

 

oe iawn con nae yee

 

ae

Abe Aitecn rare emeenceg entng MASUR SADE ae ppetial

40 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

his intention of settling me in business as a point that was de
cided. I was to take with me letters of 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 take leave of him. I saw his se-
cretary, Dr. Bard, who told me, that the Governor was ex-
tremely busy writing, 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 with 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 to anchor. The Governor was
arrived, and 1 went to his lodgings. His secretary received
me with great civility, told me, on the part of the Governor,
that he could not see me then, as he was engaged in affairs
of the utmost 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 and his son, and in
conjunction with Mr. Denham, a quaker, and Messrs. Oniam
and Russel, proprietors of a forge in Maryland, had agreed
for the whole cabin, so that Ralph and I were obliged to take
up our lodging with the crew. Being unknown to every body
in the ship, we were looked upon as of the common order of
people: but Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was James, who
was afterward 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 onLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN 4]

baard, and shewed me many civilities. The passengerg
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 he
could not open at present ; but before we reached England.
he would givé 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 contraci-«
ed a friendship for me, which ended only with his life : in other
respects the voyage was by no means an agreeable one, as
we had much bad weather.

When we arrived in the river, the captain was as good as
his word, and allowed me to search 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
were intended for me; particularly one to Mr. Basket, the
king’s printer, and another to a stationer, who was the first
person I called upon. I delivered him the letter as coming
from Governor Keith. ‘I have no acquaintance,’ said he,
‘ with any such persor ;? and opening the letter ‘Oh it is from
Riddlesden.? he exclaimed. ‘I have lately discovered hin
to be a very arrant knave, and wish to have nothing to do
either with him or his letters. He instantly put the letter
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
whu 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
1 showed some uneasiness respecting what ste) 1 should
take, he advised me to try to get employment in the house ofae “ee ene
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AZ LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANELIN.

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 aknave. He had nearly ruined the father of
Miss Read, by drawing him in 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 contamed 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,
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 iseparable 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 not 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-
mg to Philadelphia. He was totally without money ; the
little he had been able raise having barely sufficed for his
paseaee, I had still fifteen pistoles remaining; and to me

e 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 impessi-
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 wouldLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 43

not listen. Lastly, he endeavored to procure employment as
a 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 Bartholomew-close, with whom
I continued nearly a year. J appiied 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, which
[ should be desirous of correcting were I to begin my career
again.

I was emloyed at Palmer’s on the second edition of Weo'-
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,
and printed a small number of copies. Palmer upon this
treated me with more consideration, and regarded me asa
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 tome. 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 itas much benefit as was in
my power.

My pamphlet falling into the hands ofa surgeon, of the
name of Lyons, 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
subjects, and introduced me to Dr. Mandeville, author of the
Fable of the Bees, who had instituted a club at a tavern inat LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

Cheapside, of which he was the soul: he was a facetious and
very amusmg cnaracter. He also introduced me, at Bat-
son’s coffee-house, 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, afier 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
m 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 rismg in the world. It was all 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

 

 

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stern an RAMA te BrathwaiteLIFE 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 repeiled 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 me
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 les¢ afflicted at
this, as he was wholly unable to pay me ; and as, by losing
his friendship, I was relieved at the same time from 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 ke employ-
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, that 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 again 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 kim 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
nenny Joaf, and that consequently if he ate this loaf, andaia insu 3

46 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

drank a pint of water with it, he would derive more strength
from it than from a pint of beer. This reasoning, however,
did not prevent him from drinking his accustomed quantity of
beer, and paying every Saturday night a score of four or five
shillings a-week for this cursed beverage; an expense from
which I was wholly exempt. Thus do these poor devils
continue all their lives in a state of voluntary wretchedness
and poverty.

At the end of a few weeks, Watts having occasion for me
above stairs as a compositor, 1 quitted the press. The com-
positors demanded of me garnish-money afresh. This I con-
sidered as an imposition, having 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 fretern
ty, I was consequently looked upon as excommunicated ; end
whenever I was absent, no little trick that malice could suge
gest was left unpractised upon me. I found my ketters 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 was
at last obliged to submit to pay, notwithstanding the protection
ef 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. ‘hose 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 answerable for ; and which sometimes
amounted to nearly thirty shillings a week.

SE ne :

 

 

 

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i
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anemone

 

 

 

 

 

Fea Seip Onset becale

 

* 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 circumstance, added to my reputation of being a
tolerable good gabver, or, in other words, skilful in the art of
ourlesque, kept up my importance in the chapel. I had
beside recommended myself to the esteem of my master by
my assiduous application to business, never observing Saint
Monday. 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 printing-
house, I took another in Duke-street, opposite the Roman
Catholic Chapel. It was at the back of an Italian warehouse.
The haawse 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 [ 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 inte
macy with persons of distinction, of whom she knew various
anecdotes as far back as the time of Charles II. Bemg
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 ofale between us, But the entertam-
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 of
saving, she persuaded me to give it up, making herself an
abatement of two shillings: and thus I continued to lodge with
her, during the 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 Romar
Catholic. In her early years she had been sent to the come48 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

tinent, and entered a convent with the design of becoming a
nun: but the climate not agreeing with her constitution, sne
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

aying rent to the successive Catholic inhabitants that had

ept the house ; who indeed considered her abode with them
as a blessing. A priest came every day to confess her. ‘I
have asked her,’ said my landlady, ‘how, living as she did,
she could find so much employment for a confessor? 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 was
neat ; but the whole furniture consisted of a mattress, a table
on which was a crucifix and a book, and a chair, which she
oe me to sit on, and over the mantelpiece a picture of St.

eronica 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 Chelsea, 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-
‘ace of the water as well as under it. This sight occasioned
much astonishment and pleasure to those to whom it was new,
In my youth I took great delight in this exercise. I knewLIFE 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, ir
other respects, a conformity in our tastes and studies. He at
length proposed to me to make the tour of Kurope with him,
maintaining ourselves at the same time by working at our
profession. Iwas 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 place a trait of this worthy man’s character.

He had formerly been in business at Bristol, but failing, he
compounded with his creditors, and departed for America,
where, by assiduous application as a merchant, he acquired
in a few years a very considerable fortune. Returning tc
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 opena
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 cf mercantile transactions, he
would improve my situation, by sending me with a cargo of
corn and flour to the American islands, and by procuring me
other lucrative commissions 3 so that, with good management
and economy, I might in time begin business with advantage
for myself.

I relished these proposals. London began to tire me ; the
agreeable hours I had passed at Philadelphia presented 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 oy ever, of printing, and gavecanines

 

 

 

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50 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,
éc. &c. When every thing, however, was on board, I had
at last a few days’ leisure.

During this interval, I was one daysent 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
pa onpanees between Chelsea and Blackfriars, and that 7

ad taught the art of swimming to Wygate and another young
man in the course of a few hours. His two sons were on the
point of setting out on their travels; he was desirous that they
should previously learn to swim, and offered me a very liberal
reward if I would undertake to mstruct them. They were
not yet arrived in town, and the stay I should make was
uncertain; I could not therefore accept his proposal. IJ 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 age 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 kept 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 and
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
yn will find all its circumstances minutely related. We
anded at Philadelphia on the 11th 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
“ut seeing me, but passed on without saying any thing.

{ should have been equally ashamed myself at meetingLIFE 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 poiter, 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 with
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 any thing; and he
appeared not to want business.

Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water-street, where we
exhibitea our commodities. I applied myself closely, 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 under it. He left me
a small legacy in his will, as a testimony of his friendship ;
and I was once more abandoned to myself in the wide world,
the 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 1 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 J.ondon 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 clerk52 LIFE AXD ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN,

to a merchant; but not readily finding a situation, 1 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 ace. 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 schoo, 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
wages, 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 wages
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 speak more of him presently.

Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was apprenticed
to him.

I soon perceived that Keimer’s intention, in engaging me at
& price so 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 sufficientiy mstructed ena-
ble him to do without me. [I nevertheless adhered to my
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 amore masterly
style.

Tt was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the condition of
@ 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 style of actng, when they represented
dramatic performances, He was a member of a literary club

ReLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 53

in ‘he town; and some pieces of his composition, in prose
as well as in verse, had been mserted in the Gloucester
papers. From hence he was sent to Oxford, where he re~
mained about a year: but he was not contented, and wished
above all things to see London, and become an actor. At
length, having received fifteen guineas to pay his quarter’s
beard, he decamped with the money from Oxford, hid his
sown in a hedge, and trave led to London. ‘There, having no
friend to direct 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
wes in want of bread. As he was walking along the streets,
almost famished with hunger, and 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 le to mform
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 .nstructing 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.

Our press was frequently in want of the necessary quantity
of letter ; and there was no such trade as that of letter-founder
in America. I had seen the practice of this art at the house
of James, in London; but had at the time paid very little
attention. I, 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, ina
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 m every respect
the factotum. But useful as I made myself, I perceived64 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

that my services became every day of less importance, m
proportion as the other men improved ; and when Keimer
paid me my second quarter’s wages, he gaye me to under-
stand that they were too heavy, and that he 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 coming 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 reproache
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. ‘I'he 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
aterm. I told him that his regret was Ar ciootg, 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 poss
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 any accounts ; that of consequence he
must very soon fail, which would occasion a vacancy from
which I might derive advantage. [ objected my want of
money. Upon which he informed me that his father had a

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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. In the meantime

EN PEELS Ae iota ee teinatTaneatr a auapaeass asLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 55

we may send to London for our press andtypes. I know that
} an no workman ; but if you agree to the proposal, your
skill in the business will be balanced by the capital 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
arder 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 furmsh, 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
cur separation.

He obtamed the New-Jersey business; and, in order to
execute it, I constructed a copper-plate printing-press, the
first that had been seen in the country. I engraved various
ornaments and vignettes for the bills; and we repaired to
Burlington together, where 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 tuokF

SS ratio

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

56 LIFE 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 received opinions, an enthusiast m
certain points of religion, disgustingly unclean in his person,
and a little knavish withal.

We remained there nearly three months; and at the expi-
ration of’ this period I could include in the list of my friends,
Judge Allen, Samuel Bustil, secretary of the province, Isaac*
Pearson, Joseph Cooper, several of the Smiths, all members
of the Assembly, and Isaac Decon, inspector-general. The
last was a shrewd and subtle old man. Te told me, that
when a boy, his first employment had been that of carrying
clay to brick-makers; that he did not learn to write till he
was somewhat advanced in life: that he was afterward em-
ployed as an underling to a surveyor, who taught him his
trade, and that by industry he had at last acquired a compe-
tent fortune. ‘TI foresee,’ said he to me one day, ‘that you
will soon supplant this man, (speaking of Keimer,) and get
a fortune 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 service-
able to me in the end, as was I also, upon occasion, to some
of them; and they have continued ever since their esteem
for me.

Before I relate the particulars of my entrance into busie
ness, it may be proper to inform you what was at that time
the state of my mind as to moral principles, that you may see
the degree of influence they had upon the subsequent events
of my life.

My parents had given me betimes religious impressions,
and I received from my infancy a pious education in the prine
ciples of Calvinism. “But scarcely was I arrived at fifteen
years of age, when, after having doubted in turn of different
tenets, according as I found them combated in the different
books that I read, I began to doubt of revelation itself, Some
volumes against deism fell into my hands. They were said
to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle’s Lecture.
It happened that they produced «* me an effect precisely the
reverse of what was intende. oy the writers; for the argue
ments of the deists, which were cited in order to be refuted,
appeared to me much more forcible than the refutation itself,
In a word, I soon became a perfect deist. My arguments
Perverted some other young persons, particularly Collins andLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 57

‘Ralph. But in the sequel, when I recollected that they had
both used me extremely ill, without the smallest remorse ;
wher Z considered the behavior of Keith, another freethinker,
and my own conduct towards Vernon and Miss Read, which
ut times gave me great uneasiness, I was led to suspect that
this doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. I
began 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 right ; 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, m
transactions between man and man, were of the utmost in>
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 enjoimed 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

oss 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 ata 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. I68 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 printins
materials arrived from London. I settled my accounts wit
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 burdens
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 c ntryman, the first
fruit of our earnings, coming so Seasonably; save me more
Pease than any sum I have since gained ; and the recole
ection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to George
House, has rendered me often more disposed, than perhaps
I should otherwise have been, fo 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 Phils
delphia. He was aman 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 mone
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: an
ue 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, vefusing for Many years to buy a house

  

SER TEER ReNEanrmrise se 4LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 59

because all was going to wreck; and mm the end I had the
satisfaction to see him pay five times as much for one az it
would have cost him had he purchased it when he first began
his lamentations.

I ought to have reiated 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, and were to be
dictated only by a sincere desire of truth; the pleasure of
disputing, and the vanity of triumph. having no share in th
business; and in order to prevent undue warmth, every
expression which implied obstmate adherence to an opinion,
and ali 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 wasa 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 mathemat-
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 every thing that is said,
continually contradicting, or making trifling distinctions; a
sure way of defeating all the ends of conversation. He very
soon 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
put who, having a taste for reading, had acquired a profound
knowledge of mathematics. He first studied them with a
view to astrology, and was afterward the first to laugh at his
folly. He also became surveyor-general.

William Mawgnide, a joiner, and very excellent mechunic,
and in other respects a man of solid understanding.60 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN

Alugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, of whom
I have already spoken. '

Robert 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
respectable merchant, and one of our provincial judges. Our
friendship subsisted, without interruption, for more than forty
years, till the period of his death: and the club continued to
exist almost as long.

This was the best school 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
our regulations, and ma manner to prevent mutual disgust.
To this circumstance may be attributed the long duration of
the club; which I shall have frequent occasion to mention as
I proceed,

I have introduced it here, as being one of the means on
which I had to count for success in my business, every mem-
he: exerting himself to procure work for us. Breintnal; among
othurs, obtained for us on the part of the quakers, the printing
of forty 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 pro patria paper, and in the pica letter, with heavy notes
in the smallest type. I composed a sheet a day, and Mere.
tith put it to the press. It was frequently eleven o’clock at
night, 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
determined 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 opr neigh _
bors, began to acquire us reputation and credit. I learned,
among other things, that our new printing-house being the
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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 yeurs after, at his native town of St. Andrews, in
Scotland, was of a different opinion. ‘The industry of this
Franklin (says ne) is superior to any thing of the kind I have
ever witnessed, 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 forthe 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
T 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
got fail of success. Webb betrayed my secret to Keimer,
vho, to prevent me, immediately published the prospectus of
\ paper that he intended to institute himself, and in which
Webb was to be engaged.

[ 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’s, under the
title of the Busy Body :* and which was continued for several
months by Breintnal. I hereby fixed the attention of the public
upon Bradford’s 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
served in the Philadelphia library, says, that Franklin wrote
the first five numbers, and part of the eighth.62 LIFE AND ESSAYS UF 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 mn the first person, though
our partnership still continued. It is, perhaps, because, m
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 Bure
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 pee seeing in the author of this public
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 Goy=
ernor had been executed by him ina very Coarse and incore
rect manner. We reprinted it with accuracy and neatness,
and 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 wamnly interested himself for me on this occas
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
awed him, but without pressing me for payment. I wrote a
handsome letter on the occasion, begging him to wait a little
eer to which he consented ; and as soon as I was able I
paid him principal and interest, with many expressions of
povnids ; So that this error of my life was in a manner atoned
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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
prose must be sold, perhaps at half their value, to pay the

ebt.

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
hership 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;
but, 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 disappoited 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 Carc-
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 will64 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

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 satisface
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, and which
it was necessary I should have. I paid the partnership debts,
and continued the business on my own account, taking care
to inform the public, by advertisement, of the partnership being
dissolved. This was, I think, in the year 1729, or 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 new
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 and 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 after
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 N ecessity of Paper Currency.LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 65

at 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, nc
writer among them capable of answering it, their opposition
became less violent; and there being in the House of Assem-
kly 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 55,000/. and in
the year 1739 to 80,000. 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 afier obtained, by the influence of my friend Hamil-
ton, the printing of the Newcastle paper money, another
profitable work, as I then thought it, little things appearing
great to persons of moderate fortune; and they were really
great to me, as proving great encouragements. He also pro-
cured me the printing of the laws and votes of 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 that part of the world; a work in
which I was assisted by my friend Breintnal. I had also
paper, parchment, pasteboard, 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 really 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-
ment. I never went a fishing or hunting. A book indeed
enticed me sometimes from my work, but it was seldom, by
stealth, and occasioned no scandal ; and, to show that I did66 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

not thmk myself above my professiorr, 1 conveyed Nome somes
lames in a wneetvarrow, the paper I had purchased at the
warehouses,

{ thus obtained the reputation of being an industrious young
man, and very punctual in my piyments. 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 busmess 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 ina 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 toextend his trade. He had,
however, ene 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 dise
tributed my own, by means of the post; and the public took
for granted my inability in this respect; and I was indeedLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 67

unable to conquer it in any other mode than 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 avoia
copying his example.

T 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, bemg always absorbed by mathematics. Mrs. Gode
frey formed a wish of marrying me to the daughter of one of
her relations. She contrived various opportunities of bring=
ing us together, till she saw that I was captivated; which
was not difficult; 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 Jast 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 ae 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 cone
fined. I know not if they had really changed their minds, ar
if it was merely an artifice, supposing our affections to be tco
far engaged for us to desist, and that we should contrive to
marry secretly, which would leave them at liberty to give or
hot as they pleased. But, suspecting this motive, I never went
again to their house.

Sometime after, Mrs. Godfrey infornied me that they were
favorably disposed towards me, and wished me to renew
the 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 looked68 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 | dreaded
above all things. But I was fortunate enough to escape this

danger,
As a neighbor and old acquaintance, I had kept upa 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-

Sage a et ter =

 

 

fault to herself, rather than to me, because, after having pre-
vented our marriage previously to my departure, she had in-

Our mutual affection revived ; but there existed great obsta-~
cles to our union. Her marriaze was considered, indeed, as
not being valid, the man having, it was said, a former wife stil]
hving in England; but of this it was difficult to obtain a proof
at so great a distance; and though a report prevailed of his
peing 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 Ist
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
could, this great error of my youth,

Our club was not at that ume 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 our
discussions, it would he 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 ofSTi eee

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hierFRANKLIN PLANNING THE PHILADELPHIA LIBRARY.LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 69

our individual collections, each would have the advantace ot
using the books of all the other members, which would nearly

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, by
subscription, a public library. I drew up the proposals, had
them engrossed in form by Brockden, the attorney, and my
project succeeded, as will be seen in the sequel. * *
* * * “ * * * * *

[The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself, so far as
it has 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 commor
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 calculatedtoanswerthem. 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 pursuit of useful and elegant literaturePE ROOT eciapeeeins

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70 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

The promotion of literature had been little attended to ir
Pennsylvania. Most.of the inhabitants were too much im-
mersed in busmess 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 F ranklin,
zbout 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
support the Company now possess landed property of con-
siderable value. ‘They have lately built an elegant house in
Fifth-street, m 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 Britam. The Penn family
distmguished themselves by their donations. Amongst the
earliest friends of this mstitution 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 1t was
accessible to every one. Its advantages were not confined to
the opulent. The citizens in the middle and lower walks of
life were equally partakers of them. Hence a degree of
information was extended amongst all classes of people. The
example was soon followed. Libraries were established ixLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN, Ti

various places, and they are now become very numerous ir
the United States, and particularly in Pennsylvania. It is tc
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 welle
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
amportant.

In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Richard’s Alma~
nack. This was remarkable bre the numerous and valuable
eoncise maxims which it contained, all tending to exhort to
mdustry and frugality. It was continued for many years,
{n the almanack for the last year, all the maxims were col.
{ected in an address to the reader, entitled, ‘The Way to
Wealth.’ This has been translated into various languages,
and inserted in different publications. It has also been printed
en 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
i a manner intelligible to every one, and which cannot fail
of convincing every reader of the justice and propriety of the
remarks and advice which it contains. The demand for this
umanack was so great, that ten thousand have been sold m
ene year; which must be considered as a very large number,
especially when we reflect, that this country was, at that
ume, but thinly peopled. It cannot be doubted that the
salutary maxims contained in these almanacks, must haye
made a favorable impression upon many of the readers of
wien,

It was not long before Franklin entered upon his political
career, In the year 1736, he was appointed clerk to the
general assembly of Pennsylvania; and was re-elected by
succeeding assemblies for several years, until he was chosen
a representa‘ive for the city of Philadelphia.

Bradford was possessed of some advantages over Franklin,
by being postmaster, thereby having an opportunity of circu-
lating his paper more extensively, and thus rendering it a better
vehicle for advertisements, &c. Franklin, in his turn, enjoyed
these advantages, by being appointed postmaster of Philadel-
phia in 1737. Bradford, while in office, had acted ungener~
ously towards F'ranklin, preventing as much as possible the
cerculation of his paper. He bad «ow an opportunity of72 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 midnight
robber, and to give an immediate alarm in case of fire. This
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 from
this cause, and Suggested an alteration, so as to oblige the
guardians of the night to be more watchful over the lives «nd
property of the citizens. The propriety of this was imme-
diately perceived, and a reform was effected.

here is nothing more dangerous to growing cities :han
fires. Other causes operate slowly, and almost imperceptably ;
but these in a moment render abortive the labors of ages. On
this account there should be, in all cities, ample provisiens to
prevent fires from spreading. Franklin early saw the necese
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 humerous fire companies in the
eity 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-
ge which this city has sustained from this cause. Sometime
after, Franklin suggested the plan of an association for insuring
houses from losses by fire, which 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
been 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 Assempty,
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 laws from being
enacted. This at times subjected the people to great incone
veriiences. In the year 1744, during a war between France
and Great Britain, some French and Indians had made
inroads upon the frontier inhabitants of the province, who
were unprovided for such an attack, It became necessary
that the citizens should arm for their defence, Governor
Thomas recommended to the A\ssembly, who were then sitting,LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 73

to pass a militia law. T'o this they would agree only upon
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 Assern-
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 the
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 elec-
tricity, and the light and noise produced by it. In 1709,
Hawkesbec communicated some important observations and
experiments to the world. For several years electricity was
entirely neglected, until Mr. Grey applied himself to it, in
1728, with great assiduity. He and his friend 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, intendant of the French king’s gardens, made a number
of experiments, which added not a little to the science. He
made the discovery of two kinas of electricity, which he calledf
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74 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN,

vitreous and resinous; the former produced by rubbing glass,
the latter from excited sulphur, sealing-wax, &c. Bui this
idea he afterward save 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 Winkler of Leip-
sic, Gordon, a Scotch Benedictine mor » professor of phi-
losophy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf, of Berlin... The result

thus to produce phenomena which had beea hitherto unob-
served. ‘They killed small birds, and set spirits on fire. Their
xperiments excited the curiosity of other philosophers. Col-
inson, ahout 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 oie
servations he communicated, in a series of letters, to his friend
Cullinson ; the first of which is dated March 28,1747, In
these he shows the power of points in drawing and throwing
olf the electrical Matter, which had hitherto escaped the no-
tice of electricians. He also made the grand discovery of a
plus and minus, or of a positive and negative state of 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

Muschenbroeck, 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 e Us
ibrium 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 the pores of the glass itself. Afier 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
clectrical principles. He points out many particulars in which
hehtning 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 pomts 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
vonduct the electric matter to the earth, without any injury to
the building.

[t 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
a‘torded no opportunity of trying an 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
would not suffer so much from the rain as paper. To the
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76 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

the hempen string terminated, a key was fastened. "With this
apparatus, on the appearance of 4 thundergust approaching,
ke went out into the commons, accompanied py his son, ta
whom alone he communicated his intentions, well knowing
the 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~
peared. 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-
tions have been at this moment! On this experiment depended
the fate of his theory. Ifhe 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-
tamed in so clear a manner, that even the most incredulous
could no longer withhold their assent. Repeated sparks were
drawn trom the key, a phial was charged, a shock given, and
all the experimenis 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.
Collinson, 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
sabored, was much pleased with it, and repeated the exper
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 aoi

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franklin, excited in Buffon, D’ Alibard, and De Lor, an earnest
desire of ascertaining the truth of this theory of thundergust.
Buffon erected his apparatus on the tower of Montbar, M.
D’Alibard at Mary-la-ville, and De Lor at his house in the
E'strapade 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 ths experiment was given te
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 miuch indebted. Even
the cold regions of Russia were penetrated by the ardor for
discovery. Professor Richman bade fair ‘o 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
af 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 Abbé Nollet, 1748, had
suggested the idea of the similarity of lightning and electri.
city in his Lecons de Physique. It is true that the Abbé
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
lizhtning and electricity is so strong, that we need not be
surprised at notice being taken of it, as soon as electrica:
phenomena became familiar. We find it mentioned by Dr,= — ae ~]
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78 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN

Wall and Mr. Grey, while the science was in its mfaney
But the honor of forming a regular theory of thundergusts,
of suggesting a mode of determining the truth of it by experis
ments, and of putting these experiments in practice, and thus
establishing the theory upon a firm and solid basis, is Incons
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.

Tt 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 Abbé Bertholon gives it to M. de Romas, assessor to the
presidal 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
completed the discovery, and when it was known to all the
philosophers in Europe.

Besides these great principles, Franklin’s letters on eleca
tricity contain a number of facts and hints, which=have
contributed greatly towards redueing'this branch of knowledge
to a science. His friend, Mrz Kinnersley, communicated to
him a discovery of the: different kinds of electricity, excited
by 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 tor 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 expériments, 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 charsed positively, or increased the
quantity of electricity on the prime conductor, while the globe
of sulphur diminished its natural quantity, or charged nega-
tively. ‘These experiments and observations opened a new
held for investigation, upon which electricians entered with
avidity ; and their labors have added much to the stock of our
knowledge.

In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a course ofLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 79

experiments, to determine the state of electricity in the clouds,
From a nnmber of experiments he formed this conclusion :-—
‘That the clouds of a thundergust are most commonly in a
negative state of electricity, but sontetimes 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 contaming 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 Abbé 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 Abbé
Nollet, who was, however, but feebly supported, while the
first philosophers in Europe stepped forth in defence of
Hranklin’s principles, amongst whom D’Alibard and Beccaria
were the most distinguished. ‘The opposition has gradual]
ceased, and the Franklinian system is now universally enter
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 ILurope, 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. Itis 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 moculation
was introduced into Europe and America; and it is so far
from being general at present, that it will require one or twe
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 ths open stoves now in general use, which,a Si rrr ae nt SA

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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 the 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 wag
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 of the governors. His influence in the
body was very great. This arose not from any superior
porers of eloquence; he spoke but seldom, and he never was-

nown to make any thing like an elaborate harangue. His
speeches often consisted of a single sentence, of a well-to!d
story, the moral of which was obviously to the point. He
never attempted the flowry fields of oratory. His manner was
plain and mild. His style in speaking was, like that of his
writings, simple, unadorned, and remarkably concise. With
this: plain manner, and his penetrating and solid judgement, he
was able to confound the most eloquent and subtle of his
adversaries, to confirm the opinions of his friends, and to make
converts of the unprejudiced who had opposed him. With a
single observation, he has rendered of no avail an elegant and
lengthy discourse, and determined the fate of a question of

importance,

But he was not contented with thus supporting the rights
of the people. He wished to render them 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 of the public library, which contributed greatly
towards improving the minds of the citizens. But this was
not sufficient. The schools then subsisting were m general of
‘ittle 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. Frankiin drew up a plan of an acad-
emy, to be erected in the city of Philadelnhia, suited to ‘the
state of an infant country ;? but in this, as in all his plans, he
confined not his views to the present time only. He looked
forward to the period when an institution on an enlarged plan
would become necessary. With this view, he considered his
academy as ‘a foundation for posterity to erect a seminary of
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 chietly
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 ;
that they will look on the students as, i 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
founders, the design was so well approved of by the public82 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKDIIN.

spirited citizens of Philadelphia, that the sum of eight hun-
dred pounds per annum, for five years, was in the course of
hve weeks subscribed for carrying it into execution ; and in
the beginning of January following (viz. 1750) three of the
schools were opened, namely, the Latin and Greek schools,
the mathematical school, and the English school. In pursu-
ance of an article in the original plan, a school for educating
sixty boys and thirty girls (in the charter since called the
Charitable School) was opened ; and, amidst all the difficulties
with which the trustees have struggled, in respect to their
funds, has still been continued full for the space of forty years ;
so that, allowing three years’ education for each boy and girl
admitted into it, which is the general rule, at least twelve
hundred children have received in it the chief part of their
education, who might otherwise, in a great measure, have
been left without the means of instruction. And many of those
who have been thus educated, are now to be found among the
most useful and reputable citizens of this state.

This institution, thus successfully begun, continued daily to
flourish, to the great satisfaction of Dr. Franklin; who, not-
withstanding the multiplicity of his other engagements and
pursuits, at that busy stage of. his life, was a constant attend-
ant at the monthly visitations and examinations of the schools,
and made it his particular study, by means of his extensive
correspondence abroad, to advance the reputation of the
Seminary, and to draw students and scholars to it from dif
ferent parts of America and the West Indies. Through the
interposition of his benevolent and learned friend, Peter
Collinson, of London, upon the application of the trustees, a
charter of incorporation, dated July 13, 1753, was obtained
from the honorable proprietors of Pennsylvania, Thomas Penn
and Richard Penn, Esqrs. accompanied with a liberal bene-
fact‘on of five hundred pounds sterling: and Dr. Franklin now
began in good earnest to please himself with the hopes of a
speedy accomplishment of his original design, viz. the estab-
ishment of a perfect institution, upon the plan of the European
colleges and universities; far which his academy was intended
as a nursery or foundation. ‘To elucidate this fact, is a
matter of considerable importance in respect to the memory
and character of Dr. Franklin, as a philosopher, and as the
friend and patron of learning and science; for, notwith-
standing what is expressly declared by him in the preamble
to the constitutions, viz. that the academy was begun for
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an infant country, and laying a foundation for posterity to
erect a seminary of learning more extensive, and suitable to
their future circumstances ;? yet it has been suggested of late,
as upon Dr. Frranklin’s authority, that the Latin and Greek,
or the dead languages, are an incumbrance upon a scheme of
\‘beral education, and that the engrafting or founding a cole
lege, or more extensive seminary upon his academy, was
without his approbation or agency, and gave him discontent.
If the reverse of this does not already appear from what has
been quoted above, the following letters will put the matter
beyond dispute. They were written by him to a gentleman,
who had at that time published the idea of a college, suited
to the circumstances of a young country (meaning New-
York;) a copy of which having been sent to Dr. Franklin
for his opinion, gave rise to that correspondence which ter-
minated about a year afterward, in erecting the college upon
the foundation of the academy, and establishing that gen-
tleman at the head of both, where he still continues, after a
period of thirty-six years, to preskle with distinguished repw
tation.

From these letters also, the state of the academy, at that
time, will be seen.

‘Sir, ‘ Philad. April 19, 1753.

*T received your favor of the 11th instant, with your new
piece of E'ducation, which I shall carefully peruse, and give
you my sentiments of it, as you desire, by next post.

‘I believe the young gentlemen, your pupils, may be en-
tertained and instructed here, in mathematics and philosophy,
to satisfaction. Mr. Alison* (who was educated at Glasgow
has been long accustomed to teach the latter, and Mr. Grewt
the former: and I think their pupils made great progress,
Mr. Alison has the care of the Latin and Greek school, but
as he has now three good assistants,f he can very well afford
some hours every day for the instruction of those who are
engaged in higher studies. ‘The mathematical school is pretiy
well furnished with instruments. The English library is a
good one; and we have belonging to it a middling apparatus

 

* The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Alison, afterward D. D.
and vice-provost of the college.

+ Mr. Theophilus Grew, afterward professor of mathematics
in the college.

t Those assistants were at that time, Mr. Charles Thompson,
late secretary of Congress, Mr. Paul Jackson, and Mr. Jacob
Duche.oe. aap cea as

Saree

; Y

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

84 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 rzason 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 fespect, 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 insiitution.

‘T am very respectfully, &c.
Mr. Smith.’ ‘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 Rictos.\ and other suitable persons, to garry 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 nofwhen 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 friends may be of more use as well as more agree-
able to you than praise, I ought to mention, that I wish you

 

 

 

6 The name given to the principal o1 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 pastLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 85

had omitted not only the quotation from the Review,! 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 obtamed 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 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.

‘Tam, &c.
‘ Mr. Smith, ‘B. FRANKLIN,’

 

‘DEAR SIR 6 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 entermg 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
pero (of the province) shall think fit to put the finishing
and to our institution, it must, 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.7 I pray
God grant them success.

‘My son presents his affectionate regards, with
‘ Dear Sir, yours, &c.
‘B. FRANELIN.’

 

| 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.

J Upon the application ot Archbishop Herring and P. Collinan! ee
j
}
I

86 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

‘P.S. Thave not been favored with a line from you since
your arrivai in England,’

 

‘ DEAR Sir, ‘ Philad. April 18, 1754.

‘Ihave had but one letier from you since your arrival in
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 ietiers,
io 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 Myrtula, Captain Budden’s
ship, which is daily expected, I only add, that I am with great
esteem and affection,

‘ Yours, &c.

‘Mr. Smith? ‘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.
Wranklin’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
Mnal 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

 

 

 

aon, Esq. at Dr. Franklin’s request (aided by the letters of My
\Jlen and Mr. Peters,) the Hon. Thomas Penn, Esq. subscribed
an annual sum, aad afterward gave at least 50002. to the
founding or engrafting tne 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,
au 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 inftuence 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 now redoubled their efforts to obtain
subscriptions to the amount stated in the bill, and were soon
successful. This was the foundation of the Pennsylvanian
Hospital, which, with the Bettering House and Dispensary,
bears 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 ofSS

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 erecting
forts and maintaining garrisons, whilst 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. 'T'o 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
Pian 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-general,
appointed by the crown, and by a grand council, consisting
of members, chosen by the representatives of the different
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 commetted tothe 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
fit out armed vessels, and to use other means for the general
defence ; and, to effect these things, a power was given to
make laws, laying such duties, imposts, or taxes, as they
should find necessary, and as would be least burdensome te
the people. All laws were to be sent to England for theLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 89

king’s approbation; and, unless disapproved of within three
years, were to remain in force. All officers of the land or
sea service were to be nominated by the president-general,
and approved of by the general council; civil officers were to
be nominated by the council, and approved of by the presi-
dent. Such are the outlines of the plan proposed, for 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 it
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 imposed
by the parliament; a circumstance which might still have
taken place. Besides as the president-general was to be
appointed by the crown, he must, of necessity, be devoted to
its views, and would, therefore, refuse to assent to any laws,
however salutary to the community, which had the mos‘
remote tendency to injure the interests of hig 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 disagreemen90 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 of 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 instie

ated 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 Fretich 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 assiste
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 bis men. Washington, who had
accompanied him as an aid-de-camp, and had warned him,
in vain, of his danger, now displayed great military talents
in effecting a retreat of the remains of the army, and in
forming a junction with the rear, under Colonel Dunbar, upon
whom the chief command now devolved. With some diffi-
culty they brought their little body to a piace of safety, but
they 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 restigation of their
property. Had they put their threats into execution, ruin
must inevitably have been the consequence. Governor
Shirley, finding that he had mceurred those debts for the
service of the government, made arrangements to have them
discharged, and released Franklin from his disagreeable situs
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
ie interest prevented the adoption of any system of

efence 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 te
Philadelphia. 8

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. Shra a mrp
“3 = .

 

A ARE cen
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eet pete metas a rac Saas rs ates = =

  

 
  
 
 
  
 
  
 
  
 
 
  
 
 
  
   
 
   
 
    
  
 
 
  
  
  
 
 
   
    
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
   
  
  
 
    
 
   
    
 
  
 
 

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«
pessoal upon her for protection; the best plan which could

e 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 ander 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 intoa law. Enraged at the obstinacy, and what they
conceived to be unjust proceedings of their opponents, the
Assembly at length determined to apply to the mother country
for relief. A petition was addressed to the king, in 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 mstructions 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, Goy-
ernor Denny assented to a law im osing a tax, in which no
discrimination was made in favor of the estates of the Penn
family. They,falarmed 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 upon them, and calculated to produce the
most ruinous consequences to them and their posferity.—.LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN, 93

The cause was amply discussed before the privy council.
The Penns 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 wag
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 opimion entertamed 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 busmess, Franklin
remained at the court of Great Britam, as agent for the
Pe of Pennsylvania. The extensive knowledge which

e 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 hei ;socured him while a. a
distance. The regard which they had entertained for hia
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 simpie
unadorned manner.

The province of Canada was at this time in the possession
of the French, who had originally settled it. The trade with94. LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

the Indians, for which its situation was very convenient, was
exceedingly lucrative. The French traders here found a
market tor 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 ta
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.
F'rom 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
im 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 smeular
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 hesrepeated, 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 Fuhrenheit’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
€vaporation, 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-
posmg 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 sti!
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 playmg
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 5000/. 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 agam
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 haa
resided in the county of Lancaster, and conducted themselves
uniformly as friends to the white inhabitants. Repeated
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96 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

to such a degree, that they determmed on revenge upon even
Indian. A number of persons, to the amount of about 126
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 chiet
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 shorily 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 ~ nad no effect. A detachment
marched 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,
which, for a time had subsided, were again revived. The
proprietaries were dissatisfied with the concessions made in
favor of the people, and made great Struggles to recover the
payilege of exempting their estates from taxation, which they

ad been induced to give up. :

In 1763, the Assembly passed a militia bill, to which the
Governor refused to give his assent, unless the AssemblyLI’E AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. ST

would agree to certain amendments which he proposed.
These consisted in increasing the fines; and, in some cases,
substituting death for fines. He wished, too, that the officers
should be appointed altogether by himself, and not be nomi-
nated by the people, as the bill had proposed. These amend-
ment the Assembly considered as inconsistent with the spirit
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, noc 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
ae A speech of Mr. Galloway, in reply to Mr.

ickenson, 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, 1t 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
fer Ensland.

The disturbances produced in America by Mr. Grenville’s
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 dispose
uon 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 striking98 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

about a year after it was enacted, and before it had eyer been

In the ‘year 1766, he made a visit to Holland and Germany
and received the greatest marks of attention from men of
seience. 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

in Germany. He was introduced to a number of hierary
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, and 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

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, Dy. Franklin, in one of the public papers, declared
that he had sent them to America, but would give no informa-
tion Concerning the manner in which he had obtained them:
nor was this ever discovered,

Shortly after, the petition of the Massachusetts Assembly
was taken up for examination, before the privy council. Dr,

torrent of the most violent and unwarranted abuse was poured
upon him by the solicitor-general, Wedderburne, who wagLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN 99

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
pthers, 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 remonstratmg
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 locked 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

epetition of unjust treatment could have induced them to
entertain the most distant thought of separation! The duties
on glass, paper, leather, painters’ colors, tea, &c. the disfran-
chisement of some of the colonies; the obstruction to the
measures of the legis]ature 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. The
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
offspring of the American Revolution, it cannot but appear
strange, that events of so great moment to the happiness of
mankind, should have been ultimately occasioned by the
wickedness or ignorance of a British ministry.

Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail upon the 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 affections.
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.
Tuynch, Mr. Harrison, and himself, to visit the camp at
Cambridge, and, in conjunction with the commander-in-
chief, 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 endeavorLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 101

to unite them in the common cause of liberty ; but they could
not be prevailed upon to oppose the measures of the British
government. M. le Roy, ina letter annexed to Abbé Fau-
chet’s eulogium of Dr. Franklin, states, thet the ill-success
of this negotiation was occasioned, in a great degree, by
religious animosities, which subsisted 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 the 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 separate
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 mmd had been already prepared for the event,
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 for
the state of Pennsylvania, Dr. 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 Silas
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 allianceSRE

£02 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

Kut they showed rather a reluctance to the measure, whick
by Dr. Franklin’s 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 involved 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 phie
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, tending to
establish the credit and character of the United States. To
his exertions in this way may, in no small degree, be ascribed
the success of the loans negotiated in Holland and France,
which greatly contributed to bring the war to a happy con
clusion.

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 particularly
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.
Laurens, on the part of the United States; and by Mr. Os-
wald on the part of Great Britain. These formed the basis
wf 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. F'ranklin’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 bP these was generally the
promotion of industry.and economy. :

In the year 1784, when animal magnetism made great noise
‘w the world, particularly at Paris, it was thought a matter ofGHL dO NOISATONOO

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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 bafiled.

The important ends of Dr. Franklin’s mission being come
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 recalied, 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. T'wo or three essays read in this
society were published. It did not leng continue.

In the year 1787, two societies wers 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,
Sor 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.eit fee aa oa apenas

 

 

 

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104 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

His constitution had been a remarkable good one. He hag
been little subject to disease, except an attack of the gout
occasionally, until about the year 1781, when he was 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.

Fis 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 Erika, 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
in defence of the slave-tr ‘ae, 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 te
his bed; and, during the extreme painful paroxisms, he wag
obliged to take large doses of laudanum to mitigate his tor

 

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* This speech will be found among his EssaysLIFE 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 fnends 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 domg 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 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 he did not bear them as he ought—ac-
knowledged his grateful sense of the many blessings he had
received fiom 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 flattermg 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 continwed to throw up
while he had sufficient strength to do it; but, as that failed,
the orgams 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, heppened
some years after this, from which he soon recovered, and did
not appear to suffer any inconvenience in his respiration frona
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106 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

The following epitaph on himself, was written by him mang
years previous to his death—

THE BODY
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 more
i a new
and more beautiful edition,
corrected and amended

THE AUTHOR.

 

EXTRACTS
FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF
DR, FRANKLIN.

Wiru 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 the
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-
delpkia. 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 teLIFE 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 ine
tructions in literature to the free grammar-schools established
there. TI 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

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
State, by an act of assembly, shall appoint to receive the
Same, in trust to be employediin making the Schuylkil nayie

able,
: 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, I 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

d

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 1
find, make some difficulty of satisfying such antiquated deé
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
the parties charged may have existing old unsettled accounts
against me: in which case the managers of the said hospital,
will allow and deduct the amount, or pay the balance, if they
find it against. me.A Ne nea tort

 

 

 

 

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198 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

I request my friends, Henry Hull, Fsq. John Jay, Fsq,
Francis Hopkinson, and Mr. Edward Duffield, of Bonfield, 1a
Philadelphia county, to be the executors of this my last will
and testament, and I hereby nominate and appoint them for
that purpose.

I would have my body buried with as little expense or cere-
mony as can be.

PHILADELPHIA, July 17, 1788.

CODICIL.

I, BenszAmin FRANKLIN, in the foregoing or annexed last
will and testament, having farther considered the same, do
think proper to make and publish the following codicil, or ad-
dition thereto :

It having long been a fixed and political opmion 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
yeas to come—and having entertained another idea, which I
1ope 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. ‘T'his 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, leave a
considerable estate 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 leas
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,
in 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 be 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 Jeast two respectable citizens, who are
willing to become sureties in a bona, with the applicants, for
the repayment of the money so lent, with interest, according
io 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 fer, 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,#

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110 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

80 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 ag
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 te
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 Siate 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 resik
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-
duct of youth, and been of service to many worthy charac-
ters and useful citizens. At the end of this second term, if
no unfortunate accident has prevented the operation, the sum
will be four million and sixty-one thousand pounds sterling,
of which I leave one million and sixty-one thousand Seis
to the disposition and management of the inhabitants of the
town of Boston, and three millions to the disposition of theLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 111

government af 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’
considered that the covering its ground-plat with 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 Wiffahickon 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 herehy
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
by the selectmen of Boston, and the corporation of Philadel-
pia, ane *o receive and take charge of their respective sums
of one thousand pounus each for the purposes aforesaid.
Considering the accidents to which aH human affairs and
projects are subject in such a length of time, I have perhaps
too much flattered myself with a vain fancy, that these disposi-
tions, if carried into 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 tot ace
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a12 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

undertake the execution, they will at least accept the offer of
these donations, as a mark: of my good-will, token of my grati-
tude, and testimony of my desire to be useful to them even
after my departure. I wish, indeed, that they may both un-
dertake to endeavor the execution of my project, because, I
think, that, though unforeseen difficulties may arise, expedi-
ents will be found to remove them, and the scheme be found
practicable. Ifone of them accepts the money with the con-
ditions, and the other refuses, my will then is, that both sums
be given to the nhabitants of 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 oy
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.
Lo John Alleyn, E'sq.

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 someLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 113

ef 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
that 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
Froverb, ‘are early orphans.’ A melancholy reflection to
tnose whose case it inay 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 siights
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,Dagger pic

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114 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER,
MR. JOHN FRANKLIN
To Miss Hubbard.

T conpore 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 pres
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? Weare 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
and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get
«id of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some
tases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled painful
limb, which cannot be restored, we willin sly cut off. He who
plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, smce 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 hable
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 2—~
Adieu.

B. FRANKuIg,

ee

10 THE LATE
DR. MATHER, OF BOSTON,
Rev. Sir,

I RECEIVED your kind letter with your excellent advice te
the people of the United States, which I read with great
pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings,
though they may be lightly passed over by many readers, yetLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN 115

if they make a deep impression on one active mind ina hun-
dred, the effects may be considerable.

Permit me to mention one little instance, which, though it
relates to myself, will not ke 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 [ 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
mn 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

h

high.

i long much to see again my native place; and once hoped
to lay my bones there. [ left it in 1723. I visited it in 1733,
1743, 1753, 1783; 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 happmess. My best
wishes however attend my dear country, ‘esto perpetua.’ It
is now blessed with an excellent constitution: may it last for
ever!

This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for thea i Nei — ae pierre

 

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116 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

United States. Itisa friendship of the utmost importance te
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 would infallibly bring the
English again upon our backs; and yet we have some wild
beasts among our countrymen, who are endeavoring to weaken
nat connexion.

Let us preserve our reputation, by performing our engage-
ments; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts; and our ivlends,
by gratitude and kindness : for we know not how soon we may
again have occasion for all of them.

With great and sincere esteem,
[ have the honor to be
Rev. Sir,
Your most obedient and
Mos. isimble servant,

3. FRANEr-~
Passy, May 12th, 1784

——_.,

THE WHISTLE.
A True Story—Written to his Nephew.

WHEN I was a child, at seven years old, my friends, ona
holiday, filled my pockets with coppers. I went directly toa
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 good things
I might have bought with the rest of my money; and they
laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation,
and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave
me pleasure. :

This, however, was afterward of use to me, the impression
continuing on my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to
buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself, Don’t give too
much for the whistle ; and so I saved my money.

As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the acliong
of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who gave éce
auch for the whistle,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,
nis virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attam it, I have said to
myself, This man gives too much for kis whistle.

When I saw another found of popularity, constantly em-
ploying himself in political bustles, neglecting his own aifairs,
and ruining them by that neglect; He pays, indeed, says I,
too much for lus 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, sacrificmg 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, says I, he has paid dear, very
dear, for his whistle.

When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, married to an
iil-natured brute of a husband; What a pity it is, says I, that
she has paid so much for a whistie.

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 things, and by their giving too much for
their whistles.

 

A PETITION
To those who have the Superintendency of Education.

I appress 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
suffered to grow up without the least instruction, while nothing
was spared in her education. She had masters to teach het
writing, drawing, music, and other accomplishments ; but if=

 

 

 

 

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118 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

by chance, I touched a pencil, a pen, or a needie, 1 was
bitterly rebuked ; and more than once I have been beaten for
being awkward, and wanting a graceful mamner. 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 an
object much more serious. It is the practice in our family,
that the whole business of providing for its subsistence fallg
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
aqually. I am, with profound respect,

Sirs, Your obedient servant,
Tue Lerr Hanp,

wee,

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, and events; and the effect of those
diiterent views upon their own minds, In whatever situation

en 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
ood and bad weather; under whatever government, they will
nnd 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
nappy, on the conveniences of things, the pleasant parts of con-
versation, the well-dressed dishes, the goodness of the wines,
the fine weather, &c. and enjoy all with cheerfulness, Those
who are to be unhappy, think and speak only of the contraries,

ence they are continually discontented themselves, and,
by their remarks, sour the pleasures of society ; offend per-
sonally many people, and make themselves everywhere dise
agreeable. If this turn of mind was founded in nature, such
unhappy 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, mawares. 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 be
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 advyan-
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 not
) change this bad habit, and condescend to be pleased with
| what is pleasing, without fretting themselves or others about
} the coniraries, 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
| m their quarrels.

An old philosophical friend of mine was grown from exe

_ 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, Ifa Stranger, at first interview,120 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he
doubted him. If he spoxe 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 not this two-legged instrument; but every one, with a
little attention, may observe signs of that carping, fault-
finding disposition, and take the same resolution of avoiding
the acquaintance of those infected with it. I therefore 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 off looking at the
ucly leg.

 

CONVERSATION OF A COMPANY OF EPHEMERZ.
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
Ephemere, 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 moscheto; 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 likewiseLIFE 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 om
race in general: (for in politics what can laws do without
morals?) our present race of ephemere 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 en
ephemerze who no longer exists ? 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 buriea
in a universal ruin ?

To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures now
remain, but the reflection of a long life, spent 1n meaning well,
the sensible conversation of a few good lady ephemeree, 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
known among men ; for its original is beyond the mem
history, and it has, for numberless ages, been the amus

game
ory of
ement

all the civilized nations of Asia, the Persians, the Ind
and the Chinese, Europe has had it above a thousand years ,
the Spaniards have spread it over their part of America, and
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)

lans,

» that it may, in its effects on the mind, be not
merely innocent, but advantageous to the vanquishe
as the victor,

The game of chess is not merely an idle amusement.
Several very valuable qualities of the mind, useful in the

ife, are to be acquired or strengthened by it,
&0 as to become habits, ready on all occasions. For life Is a
kind of chess, in which we have points to gain, and competi~
lors or adversaries to contend with, and in which there isa
vast variety of good and ill events, that are, in some degree,
the effects of prudence or the want of it, By playing at chess

en, 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 2? What use can
my adversary make of it to annoy me? What other moves
can I make to Support it, and to defend myself from his
attacks ?

il. 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 aidin each other, the probabili-
ties that the adversary may make this or that move, and attack
iece, and what different means can be used

moves too hastily. This
halt is best acquired by cbserving strictly the laws of theLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 123

game, such as, ‘If you touch a piece, you must move it
somewhere ; if you set it down, you must let it stand 2” and
it is therefore best that these rules should be observed: as
the game more becomes the image of human life, and p1r-
sicularly of war ; in which if you have incautiously put you:-
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 affairs,
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, after
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 both the
players, which is to pass the time agreeably. _

Cherefore, first, If it is agreed to play according to the strict
ales, 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 not 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. There
can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected 13
such unfair practices.a AMMAR tat
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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 sing, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor
take up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your feet on
the floor, or with your fingers 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
your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and
suying 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
lluch pleasure ; but endeavor to console your edversary, 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-
live; 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
both 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
geen 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 b
his unskilfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly,

that by such a move he places or leaves a plece in danger andLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 125

unsupported; that by another he will put his king mm a per-
“gus situation, &c. By this generous civility (so opposite to
‘ne unfairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to
hose the game to your opponent, but you will win what is better,
liis esteem, his respect, and his affection; together with the
sient approbation and good-will of impartial spectators.

THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS.
Inscribed.to Miss * * *,
BEING WRITTEN AT HER REQUEST.

As a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during which
we have sometimes pleasing and sometimes painful dreams,
it becomes of some consequence to 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
restless nights naturally follow hearty suppers, after full din-
ners. Indeed, as there is a difference in constitutions, some
rest well after these meals; it costs them only a frightful
dream and an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday.
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126 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN,

of people, who, after eating a hearty supper, are found dead
abed in the morning,

Another means of preserving health, to be attended to, is
the having a constant supply of fresh air in your bed-chamber,
‘t 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 boilin
Water does not vrow 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 of. Nature expels them by the pores of the skin and

i i ; but, ina
close room, we receive them again and again, though they
become more and more corrupt. A number of persons

and even render it mortal, as in the Black Hole at Calcutta,
A single person is said only 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 disore
ders have hence their origin. It is recorded of Methusalem,
who being the longest liver, may be supposed to have best
preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air:
J 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 wil] slee
in the open air as I have been used to do.?
having for ages contended that the sick should not be indulged
with Fash air, have at length discovered that it may do them
ood. It is therefore to be hoped, that they may in time
Aietabee 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

a

* What physicians call the perspirable matter, is that vapo.

which passes off from our bodies, from the lungs, and through

the pores of the skin. xne quantity of this is Said to be five
eights of what we eatLIFE 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 ke 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
.ne cause of it. But we may recollect, that sometimes, on
waking in the night, we have, if warmly covered, found it
difficult to sleep agam. We tum 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. ‘T'o 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 ne 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, mm 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 :

l. 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}
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128 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

will suffer the perspirable matter more easily to pass through
them, we are less incommoded, such being longer tolerable.

- 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
ist begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, then return to your

ed; 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 afterward. 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 rismg, 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

cool and sweet, may in a degree answer the same end,

One or two observations more will conclude this litile 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 ag not to bear
conveniently hard upon one another; ag 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
1s a case in which the most punctual observance of them wil
be totally fruitless. I donot 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 ‘O preserve, what is
pecessary above all things,

A Goop Conscience,LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 129

ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN.
Written anno 1748.
TO MY FRIEND, A.B.
4¢youhave desired it of me, I write the following hints, which
have been of service to me, and may, if observed, be 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
lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so
much as I can make of it during that time. This amounts to
a considerable sum where a man has good and large credit,
and makes good use of it.

Remember that money is of a prolific generating nature.
Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more,
and so on. Five shillings turned is six; turned again it is
seven and 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 all]
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 m 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. Afier 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 disappomtment shu* up your friend’s
purse for ever. 9130 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN,

The most trifling actions that affect a
1 be regarded. The sound of your ham
ea morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy
ia Six months longer; but if he sees you at a billiard table, oy
a i€ars your voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, he
att | sends for his money the next day ; demands it before he can

Cnn receive it ina lump.
Li dh 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.

Par Beware of thinking all your own that you Possess, and of
et a living accordingly. It is ‘a mistake that many people who
ce have credit fall into. To prevent this, keep an exact account,
ime, both of your expenses and your income. if
Ae i you take the pains at first to mention particulars, it will have
ome ay: this good effect ; you will discover how wonderfully smal
i, trifling expenses mount up to large sums, and will discern
Fae what might have been, and may for the future be saved
0) ae without occasioning any great inconvenience,
tke [it In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, i
the way to market. It depends chiefly on two
beret ay! 4 fry and frugality ; that Is, waste neither time nor money, but

ee make the best use of both, Without industry and frugality
F nothing will do, and with them every thing. He that gets all
Dea he can honestly, and saves all he gets necessary expenses
ea | excepted,) will certainly become rich—if that Being, who

overns the world, to whom all should lo I
their honest endeavors, doth not in his wi
wise determine,

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An Oup TRADESMAN,

NECESSARY HINTS TO THOSE T
BE RICH,
Written anno 1736.

THE use of money is all the advantage there is in
} money.
For six pounds a year you mav have the use of one hun-
dred pounds, provided you are a man of known prudence and
honesty.
BR | | He that spends a groat a day ay, s
me uy pounds a year, which is the price for th
meri | pounds.

He that wastes idly a groat?

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LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 131

day with another, wastes the privilege of using one hundree¢
pounds each day. We
He that idly loses five shillings worth of time, loses five

: shillings, and might as prudently throw five shillings into the

re Nel ea ee

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a.

He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but all
the advantages that might be made by turning it in deaiing ,
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, im buying goods, it is best to pay readv money, be-
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.

Ar 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
empty purses—and how to keep them always full. ‘Two sim-
ple rules, well observed, will do the busmess.

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 bieak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live indepen-152 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

ii deni. Then shalt thou be a man, and not hide thy face at
TE 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 yood fortune, and

 

ry | placeth thee on even ground with the proudest of the golden
Ae i Heece. Oh, then, be wise, and let industry walk with thee in
an the morning, and attend thee until thou reachest the evenin
ay hour for rest. Let honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and
; ba

{ never forget to have a penny, when all thy expenses are enu-
5 | merated and paid: then shalt thou reach the point of happi-
; HE i ness, and independence shall be thy shield and buckler, thy
' oe | ! ; ha i

 

helmet and crown ; then shall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop
Hi fo the silken wretch because he hath riches, nor pocket an
i abuse because the hand which offers it wears a ring set with
Lay diamonds,

me a
Se ree a
ese

 

 

 

AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT
E 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.

Lo 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 utility.

Bed I was the other evening ma grand company, where the new
Bed lamp of Messrs. Gluinquet and Lange was introduced, and
j | much admired for its splendor ; but a general inquiry was made
HH whether the oil it consumed was not in proportion to the light
4 it afforded, in which case there would be no saving in the use

orn
ae

 

 

 

 

 

TA PX are da eines =

ioe

| of it. Noone present could satisfy us on that point, which
; all agreed ought to be known, it bemg a very desirable thing
to lessen, if possible, the expense of lighting our apartments,
: | when every other article of family expense was so mach
ugmented,

Pi . I was pleased to see this general concern for economy, for
bib | | i I love economy exceedingly,

f

MNP RE Beinn Minion poieapoes

   

I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after midnicht,
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 [ imagined at first, that a
number of those lamps had been brought into it ; but, rubbing
my eyes, I verceived the hght came in at the windows. [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
L 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
repeated 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
they forbear expressing it in words, that they do not quite
“elieve 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
jarkness ; and he used many ingenious arguments to show

ne how I might, by that means, have been deceived. I own
that ie 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 bemg a much more expensive light than the former, my
love of economy induced me to muster up what litile arithmetic
I was master of, and to make some caiculations, which I shall
give you, after observing, that utility is, in my opinion, the testtears a

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134 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

of value in matters of mvention, 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
there are 100,000 families in Paris, and that these families
consume in the night half a pound of bougies, or candles, per
hour. I think this is a 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 :—

5

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 BIVen i - 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 WeleniOf (5. 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 , , at ee ess oe - 96,075,000

them to rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be

rise with him: and to compel the rest, I would propose the
following regulation :
rst. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on every

window that is provided with shutters to keep out the lignt of
e sun,i

 

LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 138

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 ; thaf-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
much cheaper for the ensuing winter, and continue cheaper as
long 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, and
perhaps they may bring passages out of the old books in proof
of it. I will not dispute with these people that the ancients
knew not the sun would rise at 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. Theyee

2 AF ae

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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 cam
dles, if they had really known that they might have had as
much pure light of the sun for nothing. Iam, &c.
AN ABONNE.

ee

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
im 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
m orthography. Perhaps the latter is best done by pairing
the scholars ; two of those nearest equal in their spellmg 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. Itis a shame for aman 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 writmg even a common
letter.

Let the pieces read by the scholars in this class be short ;
such as Croxal’s fables and little stories. In giving the lesson,
let it be read to them; let the meaning of the difficult words
m it be explained to them; and let them con 1t 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 theirLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 137

ase, 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 ina 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, blank verse, Hudibrastic,
heroic, &c. But let such lessons be chosen for reading, as
contain some useful instruction, whereby the understanding or
morals of the youth may at the same time be improved.

It is required that they should first study and understand
the lessons, before they are put upon reading them properly
-o which end each boy should have an English Dictionary to
selp him over difficulties, When our boys read English toAN ns ee

em meaonpe

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eaemremmra eae

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hibd
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RC tear seem mt

 

 

 

138 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

us, we are apt to imagine they understand what they rea,
because we do, and because it is their mother tongue. But
they often read as parrots speak, knowing little or nothing o.
the meaning. And it is impossible a reader should give the
due modulation to his voice, and pronounce properly, unless
his understanding gees 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 good
one. For want of good reading, pieces published with a view
to influence the minds of men, for their own or the publie
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 THIRD CLASS.

To be taught speaking properly and gracefully, which is neas
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 some short system, so as ta
he able to give an account of the most useful tropes and
Ggures, Let all their bad habits of speaking, all offences
against good grammar, all corrupt or foreign accents, and all
improper phrases be 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 aud scenes in our best tragedies and
comedies, (avoiding every thing that could injure the morals of
youth,) might likewise be got by rete, and the boys exercised
in delivering or acting them; great care being taken to form
their manner after the truest models.

For their farther improvemeht, 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 Rellin’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 ta tunes, places, names of: persons, &c. This will makeLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 138

them read with attention, and imprint the history well m their
memories. In remarking on the history, the master will have
fine opportunities of instilling struction 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.

‘Po 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
Hinglish 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 high-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 fouadation of virtue and piety in their
minds. And as this class continues the reading of history, let
them now, at proper hoves, receive some farther instruction inbn ey tome
“

 

omnis

CNRS OY SOR eiaannny

 

 

 

eet ttrenrermretsmrvatiioneaitisintest re Siiraamee ee

einai gman

 

140 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

chronology and in that part of geography (from the mathemate
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,

‘T'o 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 1s 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, togic, 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 Spectacor 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 performs 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 industryLIFE 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 careJ

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 mm acquiring those languages,
often without success, 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.

JN MODERN INNOVATIONS IN THE ENGLISH LAN-
GUAGE AND IN PRINTING.

TO NOAH WEBSTER, JUN. 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
have 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 cevitinu~
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 im 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 thatSpates Rei seme .
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142 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANRELIN.

man wrote a very obscure hand, I remember that when I rear
that word in his book, used instead of the word employed, <a
conjectured that it was an error of the printer, who had mise
taken a short J in the writing for an r, anda y with too short a
tail for a v, whereby employed was converted into improved:
but when I returned to Boston in 1733, I found this change
had obtained favor, and was thet 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

tmprove 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,

uring my late absence in France, I find that several other

new words have been introduced into our parliamentary lan-
guage. Hor example, I find a verb formed from the substan-
tive notice. I should not have noticed this, were it not that the

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, 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 inculeate 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, Tt 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, asLIFE 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 writinos on
political subjects, have induced a creat 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 ace
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. This
was more particularly useful to those who were not well ac-
quainted with the English, there being such a prodigiou:
number of our words that are both verbs and substantives, and
spelt in the same manner, though often accented differently
in pronunciation, This method has, by the fancy of printers,
of late years been entirely laid aside; from an idea, that 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, inoreo arapsrerstemmeepaineie te

tee Pate en mommies

   

   
 

  

  

ja
ie i
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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, toa 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
hot comprehend it. This shows the inconvenience of that
pretended improvement.

From the fondness for a uniform and even appearance of
characters im a line, the printers have of late banished alsa
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 rounds
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 faney that gray
printing is more beautiful than black. Hence the English
aew books are printed in sodim 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 Gentle-
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 ink not quite so near of a color 2
—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 fore
eigners in Europe, to the great advantage of our bookselling
commerce,

Farther, to be more sensible of the advantage of clear ana
distinct printing, let us consider the assistance it affords in
reading well aloud to an auditory. In so doing, the eye 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 expressLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 145

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 Ox of the question.
We have another error of the same kind 1m 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.

 

 

A® ACCOUNT OF THE HIGHEST COURT OF JUDICATURE IN
PENNSYLVANIA.

THE COURT OF THE PRESS.
Power of this Court.

Ir may receive and promulgate accusations of all kinds,
against all persons and characters among the citizens of the
state, and against all inferior courts; and may judge, sen-
tence, and condemn to infamy, not only private individuals
but public bodies, &c. with or without inquiry or hearing, at
the court’s discretion. 10a a

14

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sai tame eet te TS

  

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46 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 educa.
on, or practice in scribbling, has accquired a tolerable style
BS 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
judged 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 m
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.

Lhe foundation of its authority.

It is said to be founded on an article in the state constitue
tion, which establishes the liberty of the press—a libert
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

but if it means the liberty of affronting, calumniating, and
defaming one another, I, for my part, own myself willing to
pant with my share of it, whenever our legislators shall please

alter the law; and shall cheerfully consent to exchange myLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 147

ahs abusing others, for the privilege of not being abused
myself.

By whom this court is commissioned or constituted.

{t 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 council, and may accuse,
judge, and condemn it at pleasure. Nor is it nereditary, 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.
Fience
On eagle’s wings immortal scandals ‘ly,
While virtuous actions are but born and die.—Wryden.

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 might 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 theSeren

naem ann aeatlaatpone eta

 

 

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OTTO asa eitiiigs cpapsaion

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148 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

necessity of checks in all parts of good government, has
been so clearly and learnedly explained, I feel myseif So far
enlightened as to Suspect some check may be proper in thig
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
mstead 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 existe
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, part 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 hima 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

butation,LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 149

PAPER.
A POEM.

SemeE 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 biank paper ev’ry infant sind;
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 brown 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,- Waa

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fo crsemspii caine ecis asts Pees

 

 

 

  

150

*Tis the great
Whose thoughts, whose deeds, wh
Form’d on the feelings of his heart alone :

Of all the kinds n

IN ANSWER TO SOME INQUIRIES OF M.

I am apprehensive that T shall not be ab!
for making all the disquisitions and ex
be desirable on this subject.
with a few remarks,

The specific gravity of some hu
to that of water, has been examined
Philosophical Transactions, volume 50, pa
1757. He asserts, that fat
most easily upon water,

The diving
tions,

When I was a boy, I made two oval
ten inches long, and six broad, with a hole fo
order to retain it fast in
resemble a_painter’s pallet.
edges of these forward, and I struck the wate
surfaces as I drew them back :
by means of these pallets, but they fatigued
also fitted to the soles of my feet a kind of sand

  
 
  
  
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
  
  
  
 
  
  
   
 
  
      
 
 
   
   
 
  
 
   
   
  
  
   
   
   
  
  
   
   

LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

The hasty gentleman, whose blood runs high
Who picks a quarre., if you step awry,
ho can’t a jest, or hint, or look endure:
What’s he? ‘What ? Louch-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 Y’ll bring ;
man that scorns a little thing,
ose maxims are his own,

rue genuine royal paper is his breast ;
1ost precious, purest, best,

ON THE ART OF SWIMMING.

DUBOURG ON THE
SUBJECT.

e to find leisure

periments which would
I must therefore content myself

man bodies, in comparison
by M. Robinson, in our
ge 30, for the year
persons with small bones float

bell is accurately described in our Tyansace

pallets, each about
for the thumb, in
the palm of my hand. They much

In swimming, I pushed the
r with their flat
I remember I swam faster
my wrists, J
als; but I wasLIFE 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

I

between them.

I know nothing of the scaphandre of M. de la Chapelle.

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 may be, 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 diarrhea, and even of producing a
constipation. With respect to those who do not know how
to swim, or who are affected with a diarrhcea 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 swimmin
is reduced to the act of rowing with the arms and legs, an
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 muchrete srsieererncumepesniensieesnimslore

ne

ee oes aetaee

TY SI Retin, eee ngsseoeneie es

 

te ann ans cma
a

 

 

 

  

 
  
   
   
 
  
   
   
  
  
   
 
  
   
   
   
   
 
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
   

152 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

facility, by means of a sail. This discovery I fortunatel¢
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. Ina little time, being desirous of amusing
myself with my kite, and enjoying at the same time the
pleasure of swimming, I retumed, and loosing from the stake
the string with the little stick which was fastened to it, Went
again into the water, where I found, that lying on my back,
and holding the stick in my hands, I was drawn along the
surface of the water in a very agreeable manner. Havin
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 since
that time practised this singular mode of swimming, though I
think it not impossible to cross in this manner from Dover to
Calais. The packet-boat, however, is still preferable,

 

NEW MODE OF BATHING.
EXTRACTS OF LETTERS TO M. DUBOURG.

Landon, July 28, 1768.

f 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; T 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 js not in the least painful, but, on the contrary, agree-
able ; and if I return to bed afterward, before I dress myself,
@s it sometimes happens, I make a supplement to my night’sSW
MOMs

Sel

  

 

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LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 163

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.

{ 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
the 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 PREVAILING DOCTRINES OF
LIFE AND DEATH.

To the same.

Your 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
and 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 said
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 lessSeen eememiedAMer ears mate dumpieoesee,

   
 
  
 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
  
  
 
 
 
  
 
  
 
 
 
 
 
 

154 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

incredible, that some animals, 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 fiowers, 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, fox: 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 ina
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 fliés 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, findmg 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 a 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 by the solar warmth of my dear country! But since, in

obability, we live in an age too early, and too near theLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 155

1 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-
’ rection of a fowl or a turkey-cock.

 

PRECAUTIONS

TO BE USED BY THOSE WHO ARE ABOUT 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 this, you will be continually interrupted and tor-
mented by visits from friends and acquaintances, who not
only make you .0se 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, affairs which you have not terminated, accounts
that you have not settled, and. a number of things which you
proposed to carry with you, and which you find the want of
every moment. Would it not be 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,
to set apart a few days, when these are finished, to take leave
of his friends, and to receive their good wishes for his happy
return ?

It is not always in one’s power to choose a captain ; though
great part of the pleasure and happiness of the passage
depends upon this choice, and though one must, for a time, be
confined to his company, and be in some measure under his
command. If he is a social, sensible man, obliging, and of a
good disposition, you will be 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
be 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 1¢eke 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 carry with you good

ea, ground coffee, chocolate, wine of that sort whick you like

5 oe

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it piston

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156 LIFE AND L.JSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

best, cider, dried raisins, almonds, sugar, capillaire, citrons,
rum, eggs dipped in oil, pertable soup, and bread twice baked,
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 thrown
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 assists
ance to them. You may restore their health, save their lives

  

eR Rene Ln hme amet niohe onsen es Suleman2 ee

er

aS Ss OS OTS

_—— PS

rae we

—

= we ete Coe

LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 157

and in short render them happy: which always
iveliest 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 wheitting
the appstite, 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 not

affords the

 

 

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158 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
how to conclude with some general reflections upon naviza-
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 contnbute 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 go many
individuals upon the vast ocean. And when it is used ta
plunder vessels and transport slaves, it is evidently only the
dreadful means of increasing those calamities which affiic!
human nature.

One is astonished to think on the number of vessels ane
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 te
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 2

A celebrated French moralist said, that, when he considered
the wars which we foment in Africa to get negroes, the ureat
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, lastly, how many perish by the cruel
treatment they meet with ina state of slavery: when he saw
a bit of sugar, he could not hel 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, arid the
inhabitants of Paris and London, pay much dearer for theirLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 159

ugar than those of Vienna, though they are almost three
aundred 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, E'sq.t written in Vibe.

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, ndeed, 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 te
labor and industry 2 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
indolent. 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 <
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 Win:
shire, between whom and our author there subsisted a very
close friendship.SEs

 

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OL Aenea Lime. cotta

  

160 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

mer of Cape May, his passenger, he mentioned the cap,
and how much his daughter had been pleased 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
such caps from Philadelphia; and my wife and I computed
that the whole could not have cost less than a hundred pounds,’
—‘ 'l'rue (said the farmer), but you do not tell all the story. I
think the cap was nevertheless an advantage to us ; for it was
the first thing that put our girls upon knitting worsted mittens
for sale at Philadelphia, that they might have where-withal
to buy caps and ribands there ; and you know that that ine
dustry has continued, and is likely to continue and increase
to a much greater value, and answer better purpoges,’—
Upon the whole, I was more reconciled to this little piece of luxe
ury, since not only the girls were made happier by having fine
caps, but the Philadelphians by the supply of warm mittens,
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
& wiser person, who knows better what to do with it. Teas
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, smiths, and other
honest tradesmen, have been by his employ assisted in main
taining and raising their families; the farmer has been paid
for his labor, and encouraged, and the estate is now in better
hands. In some cases, indeed, certain modes of luxury may
be a public evil, in the same manner as it is a private one. if
there be a nation, 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. Wesell 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 ws 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 of9

j
}

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 exverience 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? Its the
employment of men and women in works that produce neither
the necessaries nor conveniences of life ; who, with those wha
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 wil! 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,
some 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 auginent 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 in question.
What is the bulk of commerce, for which we fight and de-
stroy each other, but the toil of miilions 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§

 

 

 

 

SS nih sree wipiieetis

 

 

1 ao et Ore et,

 

 

Ahn mani
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ee NRCC tesenonamoncl ee Pesmaecencin

Sr aa eens cect

eR rn heer pti itncencon

 
 
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
   
  
 

162 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN,

coffee, to the West Indies for sugar, to America for tobaceo ’
These things cannot be called the necessaries of
ancestors lived very comfortable without them.

A question may be asked—Could al] these people now
employed in raising, making, or carrying superfluities, be
subsisted by raising necessaries 2 I think they micht, The
world is large, and a ereat part of it still uncultivated.
Many hundred millions of acres in Asia, Africa, and Ame
rica, are still in a forest: and a great deal even in Europe,
On a hundred acres of this forest, a man might become a
Substantial farmer; and a hundred thousand men employed
in clearing each his hundred acres, would hardly brighten a
Spot 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 man
years’ peace. So that we may hope, the luxury of a few
merchants on the coast will not be the ruin of America.

ne reflection more, and T 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 mucn
impair our finances, But the eyes of other people are the
eyes that ruinus. If all but myself were blind, I should
want neither fine cloths, fine houses, nor fine furniture.

hfe, for our

 

ON 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 sinve by Sidi
Mahomet Ibrahim, a member of the divan of Algiers, which

being unjust—Mr. Jackson does not quote it;

urists, who prayed for the abolition of piracy and slavery, as
perhaps heLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 163

has not seen it. If, therefore, some of its reasonings are to
be found in his eloquent speech, it may only shew that men’s
mterests 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 translate
ed, is as follows:

‘ Alla Bismillah, &c. God is great, and Mahomet is his
prophet.’

‘ Have these Erika considered the consequences of grante
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 hot
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 totally suscoped And for what? ‘To gratify the whim
of a whimsical sect, who would have us not only forbear
making more slaves, but even manumit those we have. But
who is to indemnify their masters for the loss? Will the
state doit? Isour treasury sufficient? Will the Enka 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 as
beggars in our streets; or suffer our properties to be the
prey of their pillage? for men accustomed to slavery will
not work for a livelihood when not compelled.—And what is
there so pitiable in their present condition? Were they
not slaves in their own countries? Are not Spain, Portu-
gal, France, and the Italian states, governed by despots,
who hold all their subjects in slavery, without exception ?sea tegpe

 

er ate ee inn rarities ioabia.

 

 

 

atten began ce

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Mod LIFE AND ESSA _ #8 OF 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, but to fight for
small wages, or a mere subsistence, not better than our
slaves are allowed by us. Is their condition then made
worse by their falling into our hands? No: they have only
exchanged one slavery for another; and I may say a better:
for here they are 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 themsetves 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,

*T repeat the question. what is to be done with them? |
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 as too ignorant to establish good government; and
the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy, or again en-
siave 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 humae
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 Alcoran! 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, of
right, as fast as they conquer it. Let us then hear no more
of this detestable Proposition, the manumission of ChristianLIFE AND 2ssAYS OF FRANKLIN. \65

slaves; the adoption of which would, by depreciating cur
lands and houses, and thereby depriving so many good citis
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 2 Ages have 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.

9. 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 opeu
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166 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

lt 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, Jf
rapine be abolished, one of the encouragements to war igs
taken away; and peace therefore more likely to continue
and be lasting,

The practice of robbing merchants on the high seas—g
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; go that many cruises are made wherein the ex-
pemses overgo the gains; and, as is the case in other lot.
terles, 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
the means of Supporting it cease, and finally ruins them: a
lust punishment for their having wantonly and unfeelingly
ruined many honest, innocent traders and their families,

whose substance was employed in serving the common in-
terest of mankind,A
4

md a

4

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).
JuperE 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 A BC 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.

y
1
i

fb, ‘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

i he is obliged to fight, and to hazard all the dangers of battle.

SS _ ot

*
>

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*
wages are much higher.

fb. ‘1am very sensible,’ &c.—Here are two things put in.

2 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 toa 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 net consistent with common serse? 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).—'T'wenty ineffectual or inconvenient schemes will not

| justify one that is unjust.one
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168 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

fb. ‘Upon the foot of? &e.—Your reasoning, indced, like
a lie, stands but upon one foot; truth upon two.

Page 160. ‘ Full wages.’—Probably the same they had in
the merchant’s service.

Page 174. ‘ [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 250,0000. 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 ta¥es,
The question then will amount to this: whether it be just in
& community, that the richer part should compel the poorer
-o fight in defence of them and their properties, for such wa-
ges as they thinlc fit to allow, and punish them if they reftise ?
Our author tells us that it is legal.” I have not law enough
-o dispute his authorities, but I cannot persuade myself that
tis 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
aublic security, without doing so much intolerable injustice as
aitends the impressing common seamen.—In order to be bet-
-er 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. Why, but that the
profits of their places, or the emoluments expected, are suf}

LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 169

ficient nducements? 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-
pudding, 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
{ might have need of his edifying example, to show how much
impressing ought to be borne with; fer he would certainly
find, that though to be reduced to twenty-five shillings a month
might be a ‘private mischief,’ yet that, agreeably to his max-
im of law and good policy, it ‘ ought to be borne with patience,’
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 50/. a year salary up
to 50,0007. which would throw an immense sum into our
treasury : and these gentlemen could not complaim, since they
would receive twenty-five shillings a month, and their rations ;
and this without being obliged to fight. Lastly, I think J
would impress * * *

 

ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS AND THE PRACTICE OF
PRIVATEERING.

Leiter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq.

My Dear FRIEND, March, 14, 1785

Amone 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  Exécution de V_Article II. de la Déclaration 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,Rea N

  
      

 

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170 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

infinitely superior to human; on what principles do we Ow
dain death as the punishment of an offence, which, accords
ing to that law, was only to be punished by a restitution of
fourfold? To puta man to death for an offence which does
Rot deserve death, is it not a murder? And, as the French
writer says, £oit-on punir un délit contre la société par un
crime contre la nature ?

Superfluous property is the creature of society. Simple
and mud jaws were sufficient to guard the property that was
mersiy necessary. The savage’s bow, his hatchet, and hig
Coat of skins, were sufficiently secured, without law, by the
fear of personal resentment-and retaliation. When, by vir=
13 of the first laws, part of the society accumulated wealth
“nd grew powerful, they enacted others more severe, end
would srotect their property at the expense of humanity,
L’his vas abusing their power, and commencing a tyranny,
Ifa savage, before he entered into society, had been told—
‘ Your neighbor, by this means, may become owner of a hune
cred deer; but if your brother, or your son, or yourself, have
mg no deer of your own, and being hungry, should kill one,
nm infamous death must be the consequence,’ he would pro=
vably have preferred his liberty, and his common right of kill.
ing any deer, to all the advantages of society that might be
proposed to him.

Thatitis better a hundred guilty persons should escape,
than that one innocent person should suffer, is a maxim that
has been long and generally approved ; never that I know of,
controverted. Even the sanguinary author of the Thoughts
agrees to it, adding well, ‘that the very thought of snqyreq
innocence, and much more that ot sufferme smnocence, mas?
awaken all our tenderest anu mus: compassionate feelings,
and at the same ume raise our fagnest indignation against the
mstruments of 1. But,’ he adds, ‘there is no danger of
cuter, from a strict adherence to the laws. —Really !—Is it
then impossible to make an unjust law ; and if the law itself
be unjust, may it not be the very ‘instrumen?? which ought
‘to raise the author’s and ance Bede 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 bya theft, value
fourteen shillings and threepence, and the punishment ofa hu-
man creature, by death,ona 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 ofwe prem?

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 states of Eu«
rope.

Bat it seems to have been thought, that this kind of inno-
cenee may be punished by way of preventing crimes. Ihave
read, indeed, of acruel Turk, in Barbary, who whenever he
bought a new Christian slave, ordered him immediately to be
hung up by the legs, and toreceive 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 of
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,
being asked what he had to say why judgment of death should
not pass against nim, and answering, that it was hard to hang
a man for only stealing a horse, was told by the judge, ‘ Man,
thou art not to be hanged only for stealing a horse, but that
horses may not be stolen.’ ‘The man’s answer, if candid]
examined, will, I imagine, appear reasonable, as being foun
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 Iam
not myself so barbarous, so bloody-minded, and revengeful,
as to killa fellow-creature for stealing from me fourteen shil-
lings and threepence, how can I approve of a law that does it 2
Montesquieu, who was himself a judge, endeavors to ims
press other maxims. He must have known what humane
judges feel on such occasions, and what the effects of those
feelings ; and, so far from thinking that severe and excessivegS.

 

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172 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

punishments prevents crimes, he asserts, as quoted by our
French writer, that

‘ L’atrocité des loix en empéche Vexécution.

* Lorsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent obligé de
lua préférer Vimpunité.

‘ La cause de tous les relichemens vient de Vimpunité des
crimes, et non de la modération des peines.’

It is said by those who know Europe generally, that there
are more thefts committed and punished annually in England,
than in all the other nations put together. If this be so, there
must be a cause or causes for such 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 2
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 EKurope inno
other light than that of a war of rapine and pillage; the
hopes of animmense 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 nae
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! Piraterte, 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 hunaredLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 173

gangs of robbers ; how can such a nation have the face to
condemn the crime in individuals, and hang up twenty of thera
ina morning! It naturally puts one in mind of a N ewgate
anecdote. One of the prisoners complained, thatin the night
somebody had taken his buckles out of his shoes. < What
the devil! says another, ‘have we then thieves amongst us 4
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 not. profit by sueh ill-gotten gain. He was, i
seems, part-owner of a ship, which the other owners thought
fit toemploy as a letter of marque, which took a number of
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 ag
in him lies, restitution. This conscientious man is a Quaker,
‘The Scotch presbyterians were formerly as tender ; for thers
is still extant an ordinance of the town-council of Edinburgh,
made soon after the Reformation, (gan the purchase ol
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 we
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 promote
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 isit not a danger-
dus one ? since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands hig
army to attack and destroy not only an unoffending neighbor
nation, but even his own subjects, the army is bound to obey.
A negro slave, in our colonies, beimg commanded by his mas-
ter torob or murder a neighbor, or do any other immoral
act, may refuse ; and the magistrate will protect him in his
refusal. The slavery then ofa soldier is worse than that ofa
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 pris
vate men are slaves for life: and they are, perhaps, incapa-ir

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L74 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

ole of judging for themselves. We can only lament their
fate, and sll more that of a sailor, who is often dragged 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
neighbering nation, to plunder them of their property, and
perhaps ruin them and their families, if they yield it; orto
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
bothsides. 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
pe to this enormity. The United States of America, though
petter situated than any Kuropean 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 les,
endeavoring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all their
treaties with 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 hape

 

* This offer having been accepted by the late King 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 oue of the American plenipotentiaries, was principally cen-
cerned, viz.

Art. XXIII. If war should arise between the two contracting
parties, the merchants efeither country, then residing in the other,
shall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and
settle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying off all their
effects without molestation or hindrance; and all women and
children, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, arti-
gans, 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 be allowed to continue their respective employ—
ments, and shall not be molested in their persons, nor shall their
houses or goods be burnt, or otherwise destroyed, nor their fields
wasted the armed force of the enemy into whose power, byLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 175

py improvement of the law of nations. The humane and the
tust 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 callthem, 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 1s 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 Virgima 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

veniences, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained

and more general, shall be allowed to pass free and unmolested :
and neither ofthe contracting powers shall grant or issue any
commission to any private armed vessels, empowering them to
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176 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

a speech, that there was at Williamsburg a college, with g
tind for educating Indian youth; and if the chiefs of the Six
Nations would send down haif a dozen of their sons to that
college, the government would take care that they should be
well provided for, and instructed in allthe 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 1, asof 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
you 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 of
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 ourLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 147

» writings, we always find exact. He that 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 bas 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 ¢o 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
earried 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 mmister having assembled the chiefs of the
Susquehannah Indians, made a sermon to therm, 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, &¢.— 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. Weare
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 proil some parts of it.
When they were about to satisfy their hunger, they beheld
a beautiful young woman aera from the clouds, and seat

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178 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

herself on that hill which you see yonder among the biwe

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 nvoons, and you shall find something that wil}

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
tnat ancient time, have been constantly cultivated among us,
fo 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
{0 you were sacred truths; but what you tell me is mere fa-
ble, fiction, and falsehood.’ The fndian, 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 2

When any of them come into our towns, our people are
apt to crowd round them, gaze upon them, and incommode
them where they desire to be private: this they esteem
reat rudeness, and the effect of the want of instruction in
the rules of civility and good manners. ‘ We have,’ said
they, ‘as much curlosity as you, and when you come into
Our towns, we wish for opportunities of looking at you; but
for this purpose we hide ourselves behind bush
are to pass, and never intrude ourselyes in
pany.’

Their manner of entering one another’s villages has like~
wise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling strangers
to enter a village apruptly, 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 usuaily come out to them and lead them in.
There is in every village a vacant dwelling, called the
stranger’s house. ‘Here they are placed, while t
0 round from hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that
Strangers are arrived, who are probably hungry and wea

es, where you
to your come

trys
and every one sends them what he Can spare of victuals, and
skins to repose on. When the strangers are refreshed, pipes

#LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. ¥7

wild tobacco are brought: and then, but not before, conver=
sation begins, with inquiries who they are, whither bound,
what news, &c. and it usually ends with offers 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 Corned

ewer, our interpreter, gave me the following instanee.
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 Canassetego,
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 ane
swered all his questions ; and when the discourse began te
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 2
What do they do there? ‘They meet there,’ says Con-
rad, ‘to hear and learn good things.’ ‘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
know I used generally to deal with Hans Hanson; but £
was a little inclined this time to try some other merchants.
However, f called first upon Hans, and asked him what he
would give for beaver. Se said he could not give more
than four shillings a pound: but, says he, I cannot talk on
Dusmess now; this is the day when we meet together to
learn good things, and i am going to the meeting. Sol
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 im black, and began to talk to the
people very angrily. I did not understand what he said:
out, perceiving that he looked much at me, and at Hanson,
Z imagined he was angry at seeing me there; so I went out,enone ila tbs: Sano te alte

       

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180 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

sat down near the house, struck fire, and lit my pipe, wait.
ing till the meeting should break up. I thought tos, 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 im 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. Ifa white
man, in travelling through our country, enters one of our
cabins, we all treat him as I do you; we dry him if he is
wet, we warm him if he is cold, and give him meat and drink,
that he may allay his thirst and hunger; and we spread soft
furs for him to rest and sleep on: we demand nothing in re-
turn.* But if I go mto 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 things
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
nas been allowed as the virtue of those, whom the civilized wee
pleased to call barbarians; the Greeks celebrated the Scythiang
for it; the Saracens possessed it eminently ; and it is to this day
the reigning virtue of the wild Arabs. St. Paul, too, in the rels-
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 of the present
Lain, and because of the cold..—This note is taken from a smal!
collection of Franklin’s papers, printed for DillyLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 181

TO MR. DUBOURG.
SvACERNING THE DISSENSIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND AND
AMERICA.
London, October 2, 1770.

i SEE, with pleasure, that we think pretty much alike on the
suiject of English America. We of the colonies have never
insisted that we ought to be exempt from contributing to the
common expenses necessary to support the prosperity of the
expire. 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 canand what we
ought to contribute in this case; and that the English parlia-
ment has no right to take our money without our consent. In
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 more
right to doso, 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-
merce, and America has in this respect beena proportionable
gainer, this commerce consisted principally of superfluities ;
opjects 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. FRank.in,

 

<i 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
of great part of mankind to good government was such, that
ae believed that if an angel from heaven was to bring downa
constitution formed there for our use, it would nevertheless
meet with violent opposition.’—He was reproved for the sup-ee

inning wen

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182 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN

posed extravagance of the sentiment ; and he did not justify
it.—Probably it might not nave immediateiy occurred to him,
that the experiment had been tried, and that the event was
recorded in the most faithful of all histories, the Holy Bible ;
otherwise he might, as it seems to me, have supported his
opinion by that unexceptionable authority.

The Supreme Being had been pleased to nourish upa 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 presence of
the whole nation, a constitution and code of laws be 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 atits
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 thei
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 the profitable places
would be engrossed by the families and friends of Moses and

 

* Numbers chap. xivLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 183

Aaron, and others equally well born excluded.*—In Jose

phus, 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 fed
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 realty of his conferences
with God: and objected to the privacy of the meeting, and
the preventing any of the people from kemg present at the
colloquies, or even appr: @zaing 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, f
and the offerings of gold by the common people,t as weli as
most of the poll-iax;§ and Aaron chey accused of povkets.¢
much of ihe gold, of wnich he pretended to have taaue a
molten calf. Besides peculauon, they charged Muses 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 absoluie

 

 

 

* Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 3. ‘ And they gathered themselves
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 lift ye up yourselves
above the congregation ??

+ Numbers, chap. vii.

+ Exodus, chap. xxxv. ver. 22.

§ Numbers, chap. iii. and Exodus, chap. Xxxa

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184 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

prince.§ That, to support the new dign‘ty with splendor in
his family, the partiai poll-tax already levied and given to
Aaron|| was to be followed by a general one, which
would probably be augmented from time to time, if he were
sufferéd 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,’ said he
(with holy confidence in the presence of God), ‘I have not
taken from this people the value of an ass, nor done them
any other injury.’ But his enemies had made the charge,
and with some success among the populace ; for no kind of
accusation is so readily made, or easily believed, by knaves,
as the accusation of knavery.

In fine, no less than two hundred and fifty of the principal
men, ‘famous in the congregation, men of 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 ita small thing that thou
hast 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?

|| Numbers, chap. iii

Exodus, chap. xxx.

** Numbers, chap. xvi.LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 185

o

all which we may gather, that popular opposition toa 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.

WAUTICAL AFFAIRS.

THoveH 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 nota little extraordinary, that most of the great im-
provements in ship-building have origmated 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 attentive to naval architecture ;
though itis no where scientifically taught, and those who
devise improvements have seldom an opportunity of bringing
them into practice. What a pity itis, 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
bis attention, during along life spent in the uninterrupted pur-
suit of useful improvements, did noi let this escape his notice ;
and many useful hints, tending to perfect the art of naviga-
tion, andto meliorate the condition of seafaring people, occur
m his works. In France, the art of constructing ships has
long been a favorite study, and many imprcvements in that

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186 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

branch have originated wtth them. Among the last of the
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 ine
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 lee boards
(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
lume 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 as sarcely 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 occura
red that a greater depth ofkeel 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
both purposes, he thought of adopting a movable keel, which
would admit of being let down or taken up atpleasure. This
idea he immediately carried into effect, by fixing a bar ofLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 187

tron 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 lifted 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 witha
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. Thesloop
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 be very obvious to them.

NORTH-WEST PASSAGE:

Notwithstanding the many fruitless attempts that have
been made to discover a north-west passage into the South
Seas, it would seem that this important geographical! question
is not yet fully decided ; for at a meeting of the Academy of
Sciences, at Paris, held on the 13th of November last, M.
Bauche, first geographer to the king, read a curious memoir
concerning the north-west passage. IM. 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 de
partments: there he has found the relation of a voyage mad:a Rane tO ect name

  

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 Straits, north lat. 6€
degrees, and 28 of longitude, counting from the first meridian,
he turned to the west, leaving Hudson’s Bay on the south,
and Baftin’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 ought to be, according to M. Bauche,
between William’s Sound and Mount St. Ehas. The Rus-
sians and Captain Cook have not observed it, because it is
very narrow. But it is to be wished, that this important dis-
covery should be verified, which has been overlooked for two
centuries, in spite of the attempts which have been made on
these coasts. M. Bauche calls this passage the Straits of
Ferrer.

 

POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED.

1. Att 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.

5. 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 for 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
hence, 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
‘rom the provisions consumed in procuring them.I
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3

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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 of
wheat, as it costs B in France to produce four gallons of wine,
then are four gallons of wine the fair exchange for a bushe}
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 employe
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 of
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 nsarket ; 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.seo ee
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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 cneating.—
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
Geficiency of praise would have quite discuuraged 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 J am not personally known, I have frequent-
ly heard one or other of my adages repeated, with ‘As poor
Pichard says, atthe 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 ruin 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 myLIFE AND BSSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 191

advice, I’ll give it to you 1n short; * for a word to the wise is
enough ; and 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 ; and 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 umes 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 sere
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 xey, 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 be (as peor 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 domore with less
perplexity. * Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all
easy,” 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 overtake
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=Arena OTN Pe eANennsrasanaion ceca.

or Ri aamennnh bea oetiibonthenecncin, ioeninos ae

  
 

192 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

out pé ms; then help hands, for I have no lands; or if I have,
ey are smartly taxed ;” and (as poor Richard likewise ob2
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 shallnever starve ; for, as poor Rich
ard says, “ At the working man’s house hunger looks in, but
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, nor
has any rich relation left you a legacy ? “ Diligence is the
mother of good luck,” as poor Richard Says ; and ‘‘ God giveg
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.” Tf
you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a gooa
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, “ continua
dropping wears away stones, and by diligence and patience
the mouse ate into the cable ; and light strokes fel] great 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 ?”—J will tell thee, my friend, what poor
Richard says: ‘Employ thy time well, if thou meanest tg
gain 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 lazy man
aever; so that, as poor Richard Says, “A life of leisure ana
a life of laziness are two things.” Do you imagine that sloth
will afford you more comfort than labor? No: for, as poor
Richard says, “ Troubles Spring from idleness, and grievous

toils from needless ease : many without labor would live b
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 sili; ana, now i have a sheep and a cow, every body
bids me gocd morrow 3? all which is well said by poor
Richard.

‘ But with our industry, we must likewise be steady, and set-
tled, and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes,
and not trust too much to others ; for, as poor Richard says,

‘¢7T 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, ‘‘Ieep 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 Ai-
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 enewy, 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 save 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 ;
and,

<¢ Many estates are spent in the getting ;

Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting,

And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.”
13a

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194 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 hot
made Spain rich, because her out-goes are greater than her
mcomes,”

‘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 u
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 be
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 wil]
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
hast 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 penny worths,”
Again, as poor Richard says, “ It is fateh 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 ators harms, fools
scarcely by their own; but Feliz quem 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 famic
hes: “Silk and satins, scarlet and velvets (as poor Richard
Says), put out the kitchen fire.” These are not the necessa-
ries 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 verson there are a hundred indigent.” "By theseLIFE 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,
“Tt 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) imagine 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,

‘* ¥ond pride of dress is sure a very curse ;
Ere fancy 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 fine thing,
you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all of
a piece; but poor Dick says, ‘‘ It is easier to suppress the
first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it.” And it iseas
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 boats 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 suffered? It 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 fop’s his picture just,”
as poor Richard says.

‘But what madness must it be to run in debt for these su-

nerfluities! We are offered by the terms of this sale sixen enionp finn

etn cena ncaa

EW eeuivahcatonecnes

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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 mdus~
trious and free; be frugal and free. 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

@s poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary and uncer-
tam; 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 philosv-
pher’s stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times,
on the difficulty of paying taxes,

‘This doctrme, my friends, 1s 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

resent seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remem-
er 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 ts
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 Sesto 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 my 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, | 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,
RisHARD SAUNDERS,ua

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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 isa 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 disiresses 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 fure
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-
mg 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 nothingLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 299

to give in exchange for it; and itis always in the power ofa
small number to make a greatclamor. 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, but the materials of their
clothing, so as to need very few foreign supplies: while they
have a surplus of productions to dispose of, whereby wealth
is gradually accumulated. Such has been the goodness 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 he can spare commerce, as the published
price-currents abundantly testify. The lands he possesses
are also contiaually 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 demana
and obtain much higher wages than any other part of the
world would afford them, and are paid in ready money. This
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 ihe valuable race of men employed
in them is worse paid, or that they meet with less success,
than before the Revolution. The whalemen indeed hveSane eeieneie mine nNnein.,. scitinindtsiaiillomrn ener. henner rt

 

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 candies, which therefore bear a much higher price
than formerly.

There remain the merchants and shop-keepers. Of these
though they make but a smal! 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 caiculate amiss on this proporiion
and import too much, they will of course find the sale dull for
the overplus, and some of them will say that trade languishes,
They should, and doubtless will, grow wiser by experience,
and import less.

If too many artificers m 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, and other women, shopkeepers sufficient for the
business, which might then afford them a comfortable maine
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 States, where the cultivator works for hime
self, and supports his family in decent plenty ; will, methinks,
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-
rity.

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 ; andLIFE 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 #t. 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
resent 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 of
industry and frugality, which tend to enrich, than of idleness
and prodigality, which occasion poverty ; so that upon the
whole there isa 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 comed 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 boughtPaella

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202 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

and consumed them, and yet we flourished and grewrich. 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 adornin
ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine furniture, wit
elegant houses, &c. is not, by strongly inciting to labor and
industry, the occasion of producing a greater value than is
consumed in the gratification of that desire.

The agriculture and fisheries of the United States are the
great sources of our creasing wealth. He that puts a seed
into the earthis recompensed, perhaps, by receiving forty out
of it, and he who draws a fish out of our water draws up a
piece of silver.

Let us (and there is nu doubt but we shall) be attentive to
these, and then the power of rivals, with all their restraining
and prohibiting acts, cannot much hurt us. We are sons of
the earth and seas, and, like Antzeus 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 and 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 that part of the world than 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
tume 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 them,
swangers of birth must be greatly respected, and of courseLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 203

easily obtain the best of those offices, which will make ali
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 ail wild imaginations ; and those who go to Ame-
rica with expectations founded upon them, wiil surely find
themselves disappointed.

The truth is, that though there are in that country few peo-
ple so miserable as the poor of Europe, there are also very
few that in K.urope 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 jands, 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 and 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 ah 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
constitution of Pennsylvania runs expressly in these words:
* As every freeman, to preserve his independence (if he has
not a sufficient estate), ought to have some profession, call-
img, trade, or farm, whereby he may honestly subsist, there
can be no necessity for, nor use inestablishing, offices of pro-
fit; the usual effects of which are dependence and servility
unbecoming freemen, in the possessors and expectants ; fac
tion, contention, corruption, and disorder among the peop.e.
Wherefore, whenever an office through increase of fees or

 

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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,’

hese ideas prevailing more or less in the United States,
it cannot be worth any man’s while, who has a means of liy.
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
by all that know him; but a mere man of quality, who on
that account wants to live upon the public by some office or
salary, will be despised and disregarded. The husbandman
-8 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,
furners, weavers, tanners, or even shoemakers, and 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
sumere nati,* and otherwise good for nothing, till by 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 ig
room enough for them all, and therefore the old inhabitants

Pi haln al Ga oe OTD
Merely to eat up the corn.— WattsLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANRLIN, 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 bring 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 Lubberland, 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 fowls 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 habitants, 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 Ku-
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 and 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 ana usefu
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 goodRPE Sinai. dig os

      
 
  
    
  
    

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206 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN,

workmen in any of those mecharic 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. ;

4\lso, persons of moderate families and capitals, who, have
ing a number of children to provide for, are desirous of brings
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 chile
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 Amerie
ca is the same with the English acre, or the acre of Nore
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 endeavored
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 passagesLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 207

paid, .ands given, salaries appointed, exclusive privileges for
terms of years, &c. Such persons, on reading the articles
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 sok encouragement is given, it
must be by the government of some separate State. This,
however, has rarely been done in America; and when it
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 m
the country than they can be imported; 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 cf the family. The buying up quantities of wool and
flax, with the design to employ spinners, weavers, &c. and
form great establishments, producing quantities of linen and
woollen goods for sale, has been several times attempted in
different 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
by 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-
ments of manufacture, require great numbers of poor to do
the 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
silk, they say, is natural in France, as that of cloth in Eng-
land, because each country produces in plenty the first mae
terial; but if England will have a manufacture of silk as well
as that of cloth, and France of cloth as well as that of silk,
these unniural operations must be supported by mutualon

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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
prof:t on imported shoes, they buy of the shoemaker; and it
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 Bue
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 advane«
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 artisans,
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 yeuth are dragged up in ignorance of every gainful art
and ol.liged to become soldiers, or servants, or thieves, for a
subsistence. In America, the rapid increase of inhabitants
takes away that fear of rivalship, and artisans willingly res
ceive apprentices from the hope of profit by their labor, du-
ring the remainder of the time stipulated, after they shall be
instructed. Hence it 1s easy for poor families to get their
child-en instructed ; for the artisans are so desirous of ap-
prencices, that many of them will even give money to the pa-
rents, to have boys from ten to fifteen years of age bound ap-
prer tices to them, till the age of twenty-one; and many poor
parents have, by that means, on their arrival in the country,
raistd money enough to buy land sufficient to establish them-
selves, and to subsist the rest of the family by agriculture,
These contracts for apprentices are made before a magistrate,
who regulates the agreement according to reason and justice;LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 203

and, having in view 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;
im 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
America, obliging its people to follow some business for sub-
sistence, those vices that arise usually from idleness, are ine
great measure prevented. Industry and constant employ-
ment are great. preservatives of the morals and virtue of a
nation. Hence bad examples to youth are more rare in Ame=
rica, which must be a comfortable consideration to parents.
To this may be truly added, that serions religion, under its
various denominations, is not only tolerated, but respected
and practised. Atheism is unknown there ; and infidelity rare
and secret; so that persons may live to a great age in that
country without having their piety shocked by meeting with
either an atheist’or an infidel. And the Divine Being seems
to have manifested his approbation of the mutual forbearance
and kindness with which the different sects treat each other,
yy the remarkable prosperity with which he has heen pleased
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210 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

THOUCHTS ON COMMERCIAL SUBJECTS.
Of E’mbargoes upon Corn, and of the Poor.

In inland high countries, remote from the sea, and whose
rivers are smail, 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, too, before navigation was
so general, ships su 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 itis laid
on the farmer, whe 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 only five or four days in the week, if bread
should be so dear as to oblige them to work the whole siz 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 num’ser cf children, will be soLIFE 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 donot 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 anopen 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
placarts of parliaments, princes, and states, for regulating,
directing, 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 inON, mace atlas

 

 

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212 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

three words only, Laissez nous faire; ‘Let us alone.—It 18
said by a very solid writer of the same nation, that he is wel:
advanced in the science of politics, who knows the full force
of that maxim, Pas trop gouverner, ‘ not to govern too much eM
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-
Jand; so would all, by mutaal 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
alver.

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 nauons 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 weLIFE 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,

Tt is impossible for government to circumscribe or fix the
extent of paper credit, which must of course fluctuate. Guo-
vernment may as well pretend to lay down rules for the ope-
rations, or the confidence of every individual in the course ot
his trade. Any seemmg temporary evil arising must natu-
rally work its own cure.em tm a
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214 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

HUMOROUS ACCOUNT OF A CUSTOM AMONG TH
AMERICANS, ENTITLED WHITE-WASHING.
Attributed to the Pen of Dr. Franklin.

ALtHouen the following article has not yet appearec¢ m
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 Iam 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 singus
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«
mial 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 mav judge by certain prognostics when the storm is
nigh at hand. When the lady is unusually fretful, finds fault
with the servants. is discontented with the children, and coms
plains much of the filthiness of every thing about her—these
are signs which ought not to be neglected; yet they are not
lecisive, as they sometimes come on and go off again, with-
out producing any farther effect. But if, when the husband
rises in the mornimg, he should observe in the yard a wheelLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 218

Satrow with a quantity of lime in it, or should see certain
buckets with lime dissolved in water, there is then no time te
ve 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, his
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-

"The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The walls are
na 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-

ed breeches. Here may be seen the lumber of the kitchen,
orming a dark and confused mass : for the fore-ground of the
picture, gridirons and frying-pans, rusty shovels and broken
tongs, spits and vots, and the fractured remains of rush-bot~
tomed chairs. ¥ here a closet has disgorged its bowels, crack-
ed tumblers, broken wine glasses, phials of forgotten physic,
papers of unknown powders, seeds and dried herbs, handfuls
of old corks, tops of tea~pots, and stoppers of departed dee
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 come, 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 evae
cuated, the next operation is to smear the walls and ceilings
of every room and closet with brushes dipped in a solution of
ume, Called white-wush ; to pour buckets of water over everyvt ihinesntvApisna res airtel

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216 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN

floor, and scratch all the partitions and wainscots wiin rough
brushes wet with soap-suds, and dipped in stone-cntter’s sand.
The windows by no means escape the general deluge. A sere
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 against
one of these water-nymphs, by a person who:had a new suit
of clothes spoiled by this operation ; but, after long argument,
it was determined by the whole court, that the action would
not lie, masmuch 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 rea
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, bustle, con-
fusion, and noise of such a scene, and you will have some idea
of this cleaning match. The misfortune is, that the sole obs
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 une
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 flat 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 print
are to be cveaned ; the spirit and oil used on this occasion are
suffered to ieak 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 arithmeticias
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 prise
tine appearance. The storm abates, and all would be wolLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 21y

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 F am not at leisure to give you adetail. 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 could 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; anda
few prints of the cheapest sort were hung against the walls.
His hope was, that when the white-washing frenzy 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
af government into her own hands.

There is a much better contrivance than this of the philo-
sopher’s ; whichis, 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 ts 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 of the prenuses, and forthwith putspias S
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218 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

all his books and papers to rights—to his utter confusion, and
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 30/. The defendant was strongly impressed with
an idea that he had discharged the debt and 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. Inthe 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 with great alacrity-fell to cleaning the
room and putting things fo 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 forte
night after the whole was settled, and the money paid, one
of the children found the receipt among the rubbish in the

ard.
d There 1s 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. Itis 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 circume
stance that a Philadelphian may be known any where by his
gut. The streets of New-York are paved with rougeLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 219

Stones; 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 Philadel-
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, Ican give youthe
strongest assurances, that the women of America make the
most faithful wives and the most attentive mothers in the
world; and Iam 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.

Iam, &c.

 

ANSWER TO THE ABOVE,

EIN THE CHARACTER OF A LADY; BUT REALLY BY THE
SAME HAND.

Sir,

I u4ve lately seen a letter upon the subject of white-wash-
tng, 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
most 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 herPe tories,

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220 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

servants with admirable discretion: she can’t unravel the ine
sricacies of political economy and federal government; but
she can knit charming stockings.’ And 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. Jen are naturally inattentive to the des
cencies of life; but why should [ be so complaisant2 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 ina pase
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
Twill 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 no offence. 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! 1 am almost out of
breath, and yet I have not enumerated half the articles,LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 221

Well, to work he went, and although did not understand the
object of his manceuvres, 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 ; 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 this1s
one means by which our closets become furnished with halves
of china bowls, cracked tumblers, broken wine-glasses, tops
of tea-pots, and stoppers of departed decanters. I say, I took
@ 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. Itis 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,
and down sat the philosopher. A friend dropt in soon after—
‘ Your servant, sir, how do you do ?: ‘O Lord, I am almest
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 vitriolized carpet, which still continued a mournful
memento of philosophic fury, or rather philosophic folly. ‘I'he
operation was scarce over, when in came my experimental

philosopher, and told me, with sll the indifference in the=

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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 mut

ton, and a loin of veal, and a few potatoes, which will do wad
enough.’ Heavens! what a chaos must the head of a phir
sopher be! a leg of mutton, a loin of veal, and potatoes! {
was at a loss whether I should laugh or be angry ; but there
was no time for determining: I had but an hour anda half ts
do a world of business in. My carpet, which had suffered in
the cause ef experimental philosophy in the morning, wes
destined to be most shamefully dishonored in the afternoon by
a deluge of nasty tobacco juice. Gentlemen smokers love sé=
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 rid3-
cule, it is more than patience can put up with. What I have
now exhibitedis 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 to 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, mv
husband is gone off—so much the better ; When we are upeu
a thorough cleaning, the first dirty thing to be removed 1s
one’s husband. I am called for again. Adieu.

 

bINAL SPEECH OF DR. FRANKLIN IN THE LATE
FEDERAL CONVENTION.*

Mr. PREsiDENT,

1 CONFESS that I do not entirely approve of this constitu.
tion at present; but, Sir, I am not sure I shall never ap-=
prove it; for having lived long, I have experienced many in-
stances of bemg obliged, by better information, or fuller cone
sideration, to change opinions even on important subjects,
which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. It
8, therefore, that the older I grow, the more apt I am to

 

* Our reasons for ascribing this speech to Dr. Franklin, are {te
internal evidence, and its haying appeared with his name, during
his lifstime -uncoatradieted © an American periodical publi
e2iionLIFE AND BSSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 223

doubt my ewn judgment, and to pay more respect to the
Judgment of others. Most men, inaeed, 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 ther
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 ale
ways in the right.’ Zl m’y @ que moi qui a toujours raison.
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, as
other forms have done before it, when the people shall be-
come so corrupted as to need despotic government, being
meapable 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, te
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 nterests, 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 they
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-
vent its heimg generally received,.and thereby lose all the224 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

salutary effects and great advantages resulting naturally in
our favor among foreign nations, as well as among ourselves,
trom 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
people, and for the sake of our posterity, we shall act hearti-
ly and 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
every member of the Convention, who may still have objec-
tions, would with me, on this occasion, doubt a hittle of his
own infallibility, and, to make manifest our unanimity, put
his name to this instrument.

[The motion was then made for adding the last formula,
viz.
Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent, &c.
which was agreed to, and added accordingly. ]

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PREFERENCE OF BOWS AND ARROWS IN WAR TO

 

 

 

FIRE-AKMS.
TO MAJOR-GENERAL LEE.
Dzar Sir, Philadelphia, Feb. 11, 1736.

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 in
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 waa
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 lahguage is somewhat civiller. at least not quite so dissLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 228

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; I 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 in 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, sagitéarwm nube, trom
the English; and concludes, E'st res profecto dictu mirabilis
ut tantus ac potens exercitus a solis feré Anglicis sagitiarns
victus fuerit; adeo Anglus est sagittipotens, et id genus ars
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
seldom can sit down ten minutes without interruption—God
give you success !

I am, with the greatest esteem,

Yours affectionately,
15 B. FRANEI IN.226 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN.

ON THE THEORY OF THE EARTH

TO-ABBE SOULIAVE.
Sir, Passy, September 22, 1782.

I reTuURN the papers with some corrections. 1 did not
fd 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 bouleversement 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 ta
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 ravity 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
pe compressed, and M. Amontons calculated, that its densi-
ty increxsing as it approached the centre in the same propor
tzon as above the surface, it would, at the depth of leagues,
xe heavier than gold, possibly the dense fluid occupying the
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.cwe was formed, I should conceive, that all the elements inLIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 227

separate particles, being originally mixed in confusion, and
occupying a great space, they woud (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 towards
the centre, and rarer as more remote; consequently, ail
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 with 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 bein its equator. If by any accident afterward the
axis should be changed, the dense internal fluid, by altering
ats 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 aa of magnetism is naturally diffused equally 5
when within the influence of a magnet, it is drawn to one end
of the iron, made denser there and 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 its
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 theCANE a Becta
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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 tha
vast tracts would be discovered that now are under water,
and others covered that now are dry, the water risin
and sinking in the different extremes near five leasues !
Such an operation as this possibly occasioned much of Eus
ropé, 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 eXs
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 preceeds 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 Phaye permitted myself to wander a little in
the wilds of fancy. With great esteem, I have the honor to
be, Sir, &c.
B. FRANKLIN,

P. 8. Thave 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 compesition; for men cannot make new matterLIFE 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
beat or iugnt, we do not create that heat or light, we onl
decompose a substance which received it originally as a part
of its composition? Heat may thus be considered as ore
ginally in a fluid state; but, attracted by organized bodies in
ther growth, becomes a part of the solid. Besides this, [

can conceive that, in the first assemblage of the particles of

witch this earth.is 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 still

subsists.

 

LUOSE THOUGHTS

ON THE UNIVERSAL FLUID, &c.
Passy, June 25, 1784,

UNIVERSAL Space, as far as we know of it, seems to be
filled with subtle fluid, whose iotion, or vibration, is called
asCill.

“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; itis then called natura] heat: when too much, it is
ealled 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 ealled burning; and 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, 1s not
this done by attracting and consolidating this fluid called fire,
so as toform of it a part of their substance? and is it nota
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 ? A

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; 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 the0 LIFE AND ESSAYS OF 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 ina 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 are ;
the part assumed and fixed remaining till the body is dise
Bolved ?

It is not this fluid which keeps asunder the particles of air,
permitting them to approach, or separating them more, in
proportion as *ts 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 cold to the touch, and the degree
measurable by the thermometer %

The vapor rises attached to this fiuid; 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, ate
tracted by this globe, and repelled or pushed up only to a cere
tain height from its surface, by the greater weight of air, ree
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, i
it not by the vibrations given to it by the sun that light ape
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 clonds ?

fs it not thus that fire is amassed, and makes the greatest
part of the substance of combustible bodies?LIFE AND ESSAYS OF FRANKLIN. 251

Perhaps when this globe was first formed, and its origina]
particles took their place at certain distances from the centre,
in proportion to their greater or less gravity, the fluid fire,
attracted towards that centre, might in great part be obliged,
as lightest, to take place above the rest, and 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 lix
berty?

Ts ik not this sphere of fire which kindles the wandenng
globes that sometimes pass through it in our course round the
sun, have their surface kindled by it and burst when their ine
cluded air is greatly rarified by the heat on their burning su
faces?

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2
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“{ believe this volume wilt be a fountain of light and pe
: c g ace te
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Price in substantial Library Binding, $2; in cloth, $1.50,

Memoirs of Rev. George Whitefield,
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Iustrated Christian Martyrology; or,
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‘‘A Book that ought to be 1n every Public and Private
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Evans’ Sermons.—sermons of Christmas Evans, a

new Translation from the Welsh, with a Memoir and Por-
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Life and Sermons of Rev. George White

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¥ cave age WV ke b £ -
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4LEARY, GETZ & CO’S LARGE TYPE EDITION

E.- THE

PILGRIM’S PROGRESS:

TO WHICH IS ADDED

TRAVELS OF THE UNGODLY.

Not im amy other Edition in this Country.

Frico' in neat Cloth, silt back, 2 . 232 4)<./.. $2.00
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tavo Pictorial Edition of Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress,
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Moore’s History of the Indian Wars.—
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The Life and Speeches of Henry Clay;
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Sacred Word?’ Price only $2.50,

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Sturm’s Reflections.—Reflections on the Works
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Johnson and Walker’s Pronouncing Dic-
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St. Pierre’s Studies of Nature.—transiated by
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Life of Christ, to which is added the Lives and Suf-
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Thomas Macdonough, James Biddle, Alexander Macomb,
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Zimmerman on Solitude.—with the rife of the
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Old Christianity against Papal Novel-

ties; including a Review of Dr. Milner’s End of Contro-
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The Historical Cabinet, containing authentic

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vimms’ Life of Gen. Nathaniel] Greene,
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Dick’s Philosophy of a Future State.—
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History of the Devil, Containing his Origin; a
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Devil on Two Sticks. Complete in one vol.
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Dialogues of Devils, on the Many Vices which
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AEs eS

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Cobbett’s Sermons. —Thirteen Sermons on
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The Pastor’s Wife,—a Memoir of Mrs. Sherman,
of Surrey Chapel, London. Edited by her husband, the
Rev. James Sherman, Pastor of Surrey Chapel. Unabridged
Hdition, 18mo, cloth. Price, 50 cents.

Drew on the Immortality of the Soul.—

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Alonzo and Melissa; or, The Unfeeling Father. A
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Robinson Crusoe.—the Life and Adventures of
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Bunyan’s Minor Works: containing Grace
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Love and Romance; or, Charlotte and Lucy Teme
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i ‘‘Sho was her parents’ only joy;

They had but one—one darling child.”
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Life of Wellineton.—the Life and Times of the
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° Pic e

Life of the Notorious Stephen Bur-
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The Course of Time,—zy Robert Pollok, A. M.,
a

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The Camp-Meeting Chorister; or, a collection

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Lownie eeeStories of the Wars of 1812 and with
Mexico.—A beautiful Juvenile Book, commemorative of
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Thinks-[-to-Myself: a serio-Ludicro, Tragieo-
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Charlotte Temple.—a Tale of Truth, by Mrs. Row-
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Lucy Temple.—a Seque. to Charlotte Temple. 18mo,
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Jvack Lawrence, the Sailor Boy.—sy the
author of Jack Halyard. One volume 18mo, boards.
Price, 15 cents,

The Laughing Philosopher; or, Book of Fun.
18mo, boards. Price, 15 cents.

Hocus Pocus; or, The Whole Art of Legerdemain, or
Sleight-of-Hand explained. 18mo, boards. Price, 15
cents.

The Ready Reckoner, and Coin Book.
The Ready Reckoner in Dellars and Cents. A very useful

de for Traders not well versed in Arithmetic. Price,
15 cents.

Etiquette Letter- Writer.—zeing the Complete
a of Fashionable Correspondence. 18mo, boards. Price,
cents,

Cook’s Voyag CS.—A Narrative of the Voyages around
the World, performed by Captain James Cook. With an
Account of his Life, during the previous and intervening
periods. By A. Kippis, D.D., F.R.8.,and §.A. Illustrated
with several Engravings. Two volumes in one, 32mo,
Foan gilt binding. Price, 75 cents,

14DARD ROMANCES.

Anan N ights? Entertainments: consist-
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tion of a bloody vow he had made to marry a lady every
day, and have her put to death next morning, to avengs
himself for the disloyalty of his ae Sultaness, Embel-
lished pe seventy Engravings. Two volumes in one,
32mo0, roan, gilt ae Price, 75 ‘cents.

Cottage on the Cliff =the Cottage on the Cliff:
beautiful Sea-side Story. y Catharine G. Ward. One
thick 82mo volume of 704 eee arabesque, silt, 79 cents.

The Scottish Chiefs,—zy Miss Jane Porter, author
of ‘‘ Thaddeus of Warsaw,” ete. Three volumes in one,
o2mo, roan binding, with Plates. Price, 75 cents. This
is the best and neatest edition now published of this
popular and entertaining romance,

Children of the Abbey.—zy Regina Maria Roche.
Three volumes in one, 32mo, roan binding, wit h a steel
Plate. The neatest and best edition published. 175 cents.

Robinson Crusoe.—a neat and complete edition, in
one extra thick 32mo volume, in embossed gilt binding,
and illustrated with fine Engravings, Price, 75 cents.

The Mysteries of Udolpho: a Romance. By
Ann Ratcliffe. Three volumes in one of 620 pages, 32mo,
neat binding. Price, 75 cents. The best and most com-
plete edition published.

Gil Blas.—the Adventures of Gil Blas, of Santillane.
Translated from the French of Monsieur le Sage, by To-
bias Smollett, M.D. Four volumes in one of 990 pages,
32mo, roan binding. The neatest and best edition pub.
ished. Price, 75 cents.

Don Quixote.—the Life and Exploits of Don Quiz-
ote. Translated from the Spanish of Miguel de Cervan-
tes ae by Charles Jarves. Four volumes in one of
1040 pag , 32 mo, neat binding. Price, 75 ceuts.

The Roda nee of the Forest.—zy mrs. Rad
cliffe. Two volumes in one, 32mo, rean gilt binding. The
best edition published of this Romance. Price, 50 cents.

The Life and Adventures of Peter Wi-
kins._Containing an Account of his Visit to the Flying
Islanders. A neat 32mo volume, roan gilt. Price, 25 cts

15

Ie FL AOR gens:=-OPULAR SCEZOCOL BOCES.
Booth’s New Pictorial United States.—

For Primary Schools. 244 pages 18mo, neatly bound, with
Questions. Price, 374 cents. This is the best History of

the United States now published for the use of Primary
Schools,

The Central School Reader.—compiled by the

Female Association of Friends for the Improvement of
Juvenile Books. One of the best books published for
Select Schools and Academies, 12mo. Price, 75 cents.

Wilmsen’s Reader; or, the Children’s Friend
One hundred and sixtieth Edition. One of the best School
Books ever published for Children between the ages of
eight and twelve years, 12mo. Price, 624 cents. °

White’s Elements of Universal History.
With Additions and Questions. By John §. Hart. 12mo,
arabesque backs. Price, $1

Public School Singing Book.—zy a. F. Coz,

32mo, boards. Price, 134 cents.

Murray’s English Reader.—1emo, sheep. Price,

25 cents,

Murray’s Introduction.—1emo, boaras. Price,
123 cents.

Chapin’s New Classical Spelling Book,—

12mo, boards. Price, 124 cents.

The History of Ancient and Modern
a as by John Frost, LL.D. Sheep. Price,
1.50.

Kelley’s New Juvenile Primer.—price, 3cts

Testament.—ismo, sheep. A good school edition.
Price, 25 cents.

Cobbett’s French Grammar. _ ismo, sheep.

Price, 624 cents.

Cohbett’s English Grammar.—ismo, sheep.
Price, 50 cents.
16The Life and Speeches of Henry Clay.—

With a Portrait, and a View of the Birth-place of Mr.
Clay. In one handsome large octavo volume of 1300
pages, handsomely bound in arabesque, gilt. Price only
$3, cr, bound in two volumes, 93.00,

The following are a few of the Notices of this valuable
work by the prominent newspapers of the country:

= The fullest biography of the statesman we have
seen.

‘‘Tt contains his master efforts.”

‘‘The work cannot be too widely circulated.”

‘‘No book can be more valuable to hand down to pos-
terity.”’

‘The history of the life, and speeches of America’s
great statesman, should be in every family.”

‘‘Tho Biography is written with great ability.”

‘‘This book is worthy of the greatness of the subject.”

‘‘The portrait in this volume is an excellent copy of
the only likeness of Mr. Clay.”

‘Tt is just such a book as is wanted and much needed
by our people.”’

‘‘This work will be heartily welcomed by the innume-
rable friends of the departed statesman.”

‘The life of this great man is worthy of a prominent
place in every library—his acts form a prominent part of
our country’s history.”

‘‘In the publication of ‘this excellent selection of
speeches, the publishers are eminently deserving of sup-

ort.”
Ee It is all that it professes to be.”

‘‘The engravings are among the finest that we have
seen.”

‘‘Tt is a rich contribution to the history of our coun-

99

‘‘No library is complete without it.”

‘‘Every man should have a copy, and from its cheap-
ness none need to be deprived of it.”

‘It should be handed down from father to son, through
succeeding generations.”

‘‘The most reliable biography of the Great Commoner,
and the most judicious selection of his brilliant efforts.”

‘‘ This valuable work will awaken a very lively interest
among the multitude of his friends.”

‘‘We hope that it will be placed before all who are
hereafter to play their parts in the great drama of life.”

‘‘To the young man, whose only fortune is his energy
and whose only friend is his health, this work will be
doubly valuable.”

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Frost’s Pictorial Life of George Wash
ington; Embracing a Complete History of tife
Seven Years’ War; the Formation of the Fed®-
ral Constitution, and the Administration of
Washington. Complete in one large octavo
volume of 600 pages, containing over one
hundred Engravings, including several, finely
executed, on Steel. Price only $3.

“This is cne of the most elegant and authentic books
that has emanated from the American Press. The Biogra-
phy is written in a very pleasant style, which tends to
interest, as well as to instruct. The stirring events of the
Revolutionary War, in which Washington assumed a very
important position, are depicted with much accuracy and
beauty.”—Graham’s Magazine.

“The author has taken unusual pains in the collection
of his materials, and has drawn from the most accurate
sources. Wo consider this one of the author’s best works.”

Phila. Dollar Newspaper.

‘This work comprises a complete narrative of the im-
portant events that occurred in the ‘times that tried men’s
souls.’ It is a book which should be in the possession of
every family; and, as it is: most desirable te cultivate a
taste for historical reading among young people, we know
of nothing that is more likely to produce a relish for a
wholesome literature, than placing such books as this at
their disposal.’’—American Banner.

‘‘In the preparation of this work, the author has made
use of the best materials; he has placed an array of facts
before the reader which fails not to interest him, While it
is abundantly instructive.’”—American Review.

‘““Whoever has occasion to examine, carefully, into the
history of the period in which Washington lived, will find
his reverence for the character of that illustrious man ak
ways increasing. The more intimately one becomes ac
quainted with the fact, the more firmly he becomes con
Vinced that Washington was, throughout the whole forming
period of the republic, the grand moving power. The pre-
sent work wili be found to contain an impartial account
of the events of that period.”—Evening Post.

LEARY, GETZ & CO., Publishers,
224 North Second St., Philadelphia,
18Burder’s History of all Religions, wit:
Accounts of the Ceremonies and Customs, or the
Forms of Worship of the several Nations of the
World. With large additions, by Joel Parker,
D.D. Complete in one large octavo volume,
of over 700 pages, and illustrated with hand-
some Engravings. Price only $3.

“This volume will be found to be replete with interest
amd instruction, growing out of the subjects upon which it
treats. The reader will have presented to him a picture of
the religious world, upon which he will perceive many
dark and distressing shades: he will see in what varied
and unhallowed forms mankind have worshipped the com-
mon Parent of all; he will be led to contemplate the delu-
Slons practised upon millions, by the cunning and craft of
imposture; the unholy devotion demanded of other mi-
lions, and the debasing superstitions and cruel abomina-
tions upon still more millions of the human family. From
the pain of dwelling upon the darker shades, he will find
relief by turning his eyes to the bright spots on the pic-
ture. The work is the best on the subject we have seen,
and must command the admiration of all interested on the
subject.’’—Christian Repository.

‘‘This work is of the most liberal and impartial charac-
fer. The quickened intercourse of the world, the overturn-
ing of governments long established, and the scope given
to free inquiry, impart a fresh interest to subjects of this
nature. May we not also hope that a knowledge of the
differences prevailing among difierent branches of the
Christian Church, will aid in the promotion of that general
charity, which will cause all teachers of Christianity to
“see eye to eye,’ and the entire population of the earth to
become one happy family.” —LHvangelical Record.

‘¢This work will be found to contain an impartial account
of the history and forms of worship of all religious dencmi-
nations, both ancient and modern. The author has had
access to the denominational publications of the different
creeds, and gives their religious views and doctrines with-
out any bias on his part. This will be the means of ren-
dering the work useful for reference, and it should finda
place in the library of every family.”—Christian Advocate.

LEARY, GETZ & CO., Publishers,
224 North Second St., Philadelphia,
192 A Nn. _ palit silane

The Life and Sermons of Rev. George
Whitefield. New and revised edition, with
large additions and improvements, together
with numerous Engravings, illustrative of
Scenes in his Life, a View of his Monument,
and a handsomely engraved Portrait on Steel,
One octavo volume of 660 pages, handsomely

bound in neat substantial leather. Price only
$2.50.

The author of this book is evidently an evangelical
Christian, in both doctrine and experience, for such an one
ouly could coneeive of, and portray, in so true and lively
& manner, the character of the eminent servant of God
whose life and labours he presents to the world: and both
the biographer, and the author of the introduction to this
edition, appear to aim at impartiality in their statements,
even where we might have expected to find them biassed
by their creeds, in favour of the subject of these memoirs.
this is by far the best account of the life and labours of
Whitefield which we have seen. It is more full of inci-
dent, and abundantly more full of the spirituality of which
the preacher’s life was a continual manifestation.”

Christian Advocate and Journal.

‘His journals, his letters, his sermons, his conversa-
tions, his whole life, show him to have been most habitually
and characteristically a man of prayer; and if this volume
may tend to bring ministers and Christians to a higher
appreciation and a more diligent culture of the devotional
spirit, it will accomplish a great, an important, and a much
needed work, both for the ministry and the church.”

Christian Observer.

‘‘As a man, as a Christian, as a minister, we shall not, it
is to be feared, look upon his like again speedily. After
passing through good and evil report, during more than
sixty years of incessant labour, he at last entered into his
rest. The volume now published will be found to contain a
correct account of his life and services in the vineyard of
Christ, and the sermons will be read with profitable
pleasure by those who had not the fortune to hear them
from: his own mouth.’’—Banner of the Cross.

LEARY, GETZ & CO., Publishers,
224 North Second St., Philadelphia,
20Lives of Great and Celebrated Charac-
ters, of all Ages and Countries. One large oc-
tavo volume of nearly 800 pages, and illustrated
by several hundred Engravings. Neatly bound.
Price only $2.50.

“In this large and very handsome volume, we have
wathentic accounts of some of the most remarkable perm
sonages of by-gone, as well as the present day, embracing
Heroes, Conquerors, Statesmen, Authors, Artists, Extraor-
dinary Humorists, Misers, Mountebanks, Kings and Queens,
duggiers, and other Curiosities of Human Nature,—and
handsomely illustrated.

5

“To the general reader, this book presonts many attrac-
fions. After thorough examination, we are prepared to say
fhat the work is a reliable one—the author has given us
truth instead of speculation, and we piace considerable
value upon his information. No library is complete with-
out it.”’—Philadelphia City Item.

‘This entertaining, instructive volume is one which
may be taken up at any time and read with pleasure, and
not the least of its merit is, that while it contains such a
mass of matter, it is eminently qualified to instruct and
amuse its readers.’’— Observer,

‘‘The biography of remarkable and eccentric men has
long been considered one of the most entertaining kind of
reading. But itis more than this: it is a very useful ex-
ercise, and one which is worthy the attention of all who
seek for information. The characters brought to view in
this volume are among the most remarkable, and many of
them the most eccentric, which have ever appeared on the
great theatre of human action. The book must be read,
to be appreciated.”’—Literary World.

“This is one cf the most interesting and instructive
volumes that has been brought to our notice. The biogra-
phies of the different characters contained in the work are
written in a familiar style, making them easily understood,
throughout every detail. It is a valuable addition to the
family library and will give as much information as 18 con-
tained in many Volumes. We bespeak for it a large sale.”

Tribune.
LEARY, GETZ & CO., Publishers,
224 North Second St., Philadelphia.
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Rotteck’s History of the World, contain-
ing a History of all the Nations of the Earth.
Four volumes in one, seventeen hundred pages,
and handsomely illustrated. Price only $3.50.

‘‘ We welcome this fine edition of a very superior work.
On the continent of Europe, it holds the highest place as a
true and faithful account of the World’s History. His
liberal ideas have, it is true, brought upon him the wrath
of royalty, nobility, and aristocracy, but they will win for
him, in this country, the highest praise. It contains an
immense amount of information compressed within a mo-
derate space, and yet is sufficiently elaborate.”

Hvening Bulletin.

‘From a personal examination of the book, we can rea
commend it as most comprehensive and correct.”
Saturday Gazette.

‘This is truly one of the most valuable publications of
the day, and should have a place in every library.”
Penna. Inquirer.
‘This work indicates a degree of patient investigation,
deep, varied, and laborious research; it is a most thorough
and complete library in itself, in all matters pertaining to
the history of all nations.”’—Satwrday Courier.

“In the preparation of this great work, the author claims
to be exempt from all political or sectarian bias, and to
have fulfilled the demand of pure history in a rigid expose
of the past—a faithful portrait of the things that were.
Xt is a book that, while it instructs, will greatly interest
families.”’—Phila. Dollar Newspaper.

“This History is well translated; illustrated with good
engravings, and will ornament any library.’’— Phila. Sun.

“This History is peculiarly adapted to all thinking men,
whatever their spheres of action may be. But it is to be re.
commended particularly as a rare and precious source of
political instruction for the citizens of a state, where the
rights of man and his capacity for self-government are re-
cognised; where it is necessary that every one should bo»
come somewhat acquainted with political affairs; where,
in fine, should be the fatherland of so genvine a pupil of
the Washington school as Rotteck.?’—7ribune.

LEARY, GETZ & CO., Publishers,
224 North Second St., Philadelphia.
22Platt’s Book of Curiosities, containing Ten

Thousand Wonders and Curiosities of Nature
and Art. One volume, 8vo, 950 pages, hand-
somely illustrated, and durably bound. Price
only $2.50.

“We know of no work likely to be more lastingly popu-
lar and useful at the family fire-side, than this very popular
Book of Curiosities. Surrounded with wonders, and lost in
admiration, the inquisitive mind of man is ever anxious to
know the hidden springs that put these wonders in motion.
The adult, as well as the school pupil, inquires for some
one to take him by the hand and explain to him the curiosi-
ties of the Universe.’’—Phila. Dollar Newspaper,

“A more entertaining work has not, for a long time, ap-
peared from the American Press.’—Phila. Inquirer.

“Curious readers may pore over and study, and scarcely
exhaust its supply of information, both marvellous and
matter-of-fact.” — Phila. Evening Bulletin.

‘Is a vast storehouse of miscellaneous, entertaining,
instructive reading, in which every imaginable taste and
disposition may find ample entertainment.”

American Courter.

‘No one can peruse it without receiving a vast amount
of good from its pages.”’—Easion, Pa., Whig.

“It is a very interesting collection of rare and wonderful
articles, and excites universal attention.”
Doylestown Democrat.

‘This collection includes many very curious facts, and
will be read eagerly by all who preserve, yet fresh, their
taste for the wonderful.’’—Saz. Heening Post.

‘‘This work presents to the reader, a view of the great
achievements of the human intellect, in the discoveries of
science; and the wonderful operations of the skill, power,
and industry of man, in the invention and improvement
of the arts, in the construction of machines, and in the
buildings and other ornaments the earth exhibits, as tro-
phies to the glories of the human race.’’—Herald.

LEARY, GETZ & CO., Publishers,
224 North Second St., Philadelphia.
23itn iliac eit

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Any Book in this Catalogue sent by Mail, postage paid, on

 

   
 

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BOOKS AND STATIONERY.
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ce and Vine Streets, Philadelphia.

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No. 224 North Second Street, Philadelphia.
24