LETTER III
On the Subject of Uniting the Colonies More Intimately with Great Britain, by Allowing Them Representatives in Parliament
Boston, Dec. 22, 1754.
SIR,
Since the conversation your Excellency was pleased to honour me with, on the subject of _uniting the colonies_ more intimately with Great Britain, by allowing them _representatives in parliament_, I have something further considered that matter, and am of opinion, that such a union would be very acceptable to the colonies, provided they had a reasonable number of representatives allowed them; and that all the old acts of Parliament restraining the trade or cramping the manufactures of the colonies be at the same time repealed, and the British subjects _on this side the water_ put, in those respects, on the same footing with those in Great Britain, till the new Parliament, representing the whole, shall think it for the interest of the whole to reënact some or all of them. It is not that I imagine so many representatives will be allowed the colonies, as to have any great weight by their numbers; but I think there might be sufficient to occasion those laws to be better and more impartially considered, and perhaps to overcome the interest of a petty corporation, or of any particular set of artificers or traders in England, who heretofore seem, in some instances, to have been more regarded than all the colonies, or than was consistent with the general interest, or best national good. I think too, that the government of the colonies by a parliament, in which they are fairly represented, would be vastly more agreeable to the people, than the method lately attempted to be introduced by royal instructions, as well as more agreeable to the nature of an English constitution, and to English liberty; and that such laws as now seem to bear hard on the colonies, would (when judged by such a Parliament for the best interest of the whole) be more cheerfully submitted to, and more easily executed.
I should hope too, that by such a union, the people of Great Britain, and the people of the colonies, would learn to consider themselves, as not belonging to a different community with different interests, but to one community with one interest; which I imagine would contribute to strengthen the whole, and greatly lessen the danger of future separations.
It is, I suppose, agreed to be the general interest of any state, that its people be numerous and rich; men enough to fight in its defence, and enough to pay sufficient taxes to defray the charge; for these circumstances tend to the security of the state, and its protection from foreign power: But it seems not of so much importance, whether the fighting be done by John or Thomas, or the tax paid by William or Charles. The iron manufacture employs and enriches British subjects, but is it of any importance to the state, whether the manufacturers live at Birmingham, or Sheffield, or both, since they are still within its bounds, and their wealth and persons still at its command? Could the Goodwin Sands be laid dry by banks, and land equal to a large country thereby gained to England, and presently filled with English inhabitants, would it be right to deprive such inhabitants of the common privileges enjoyed by other Englishmen, the right of vending their produce in the same ports, or of making their own shoes, because a merchant or a shoemaker, living on the old land, might fancy it more for his advantage to trade or make shoes for them? Would this be right, even if the land were gained at the expence of the state? And would it not seem less right, if the charge and labour of gaining the additional territory to Britain had been borne by the settlers themselves? And would not the hardship appear yet greater, if the people of the new country should be allowed no representatives in the parliament enacting such impositions?
Now I look on the colonies as so many counties gained to Great Britain, and more advantageous to it than if they had been gained out of the seas around its coasts, and joined to its land: For being in different climates, they afford greater variety of produce, and being separated by the ocean, they increase much more its shipping and seamen; and since they are all included in the British empire, which has only extended itself by their means; and the strength and wealth of the parts are the strength and wealth of the whole; what imports it to the general state, whether a merchant, a smith, or a hatter, grow rich in Old or New England? And if, through increase of people, two smiths are wanted for one employed before, why may not the _new_ smith be allowed to live and thrive in the _new_ country, as well as the _old_ one in the _old_? In fine, why should the countenance of a state be _partially_ afforded to its people, unless it be most in favour of those who have most merit? And if there be any difference, those who have most contributed to enlarge Britain's empire and commerce, increase her strength, her wealth, and the numbers of her people, at the risk of their own lives and private fortunes in new and strange countries, methinks ought rather to expect some preference. With the greatest respect and esteem, I have the honour to be
Your Excellency's most obedient and most humble servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO MISS CATHERINE RAY[46] [AT BLOCK ISLAND]
Philadelphia, March 4, 1755.
DEAR KATY:--
Your kind letter of January 20th is but just come to hand, and I take this first opportunity of acknowledging the favour. It gives me great pleasure to hear, that you got home safe and well that day. I thought too much was hazarded, when I saw you put off to sea in that very little skiff, tossed by every wave. But the call was strong and just, a sick parent. I stood on the shore, and looked after you, till I could no longer distinguish you, even with my glass; then returned to your sister's, praying for your safe passage. Towards evening all agreed that you must certainly be arrived before that time, the weather having been so favourable; which made me more easy and cheerful, for I had been truly concerned for you.
I left New England slowly, and with great reluctance.[47] Short day's journeys, and loitering visits on the road, for three or four weeks, manifested my unwillingness to quit a country, in which I drew my first breath, spent my earliest and most pleasant days, and had now received so many fresh marks of the people's goodness and benevolence, in the kind and affectionate treatment I had everywhere met with. I almost forgot I had a _home_, till I was more than halfway towards it; till I had, one by one, parted with all my New England friends, and was got into the western borders of Connecticut, among mere strangers. Then, like an old man, who, having buried all he loved in this world, begins to think of heaven, I began to think of and wish for home; and, as I drew nearer, I found the attraction stronger and stronger. My diligence and speed increased with my impatience. I drove on violently, and made such long stretches, that a very few days brought me to my own house, and to the arms of my good old wife and children, where I remain, thanks to God, at present well and happy.
Persons subject to the _hyp_ complain of the northeast wind, as increasing their malady. But since you promised to send me kisses in that wind, and I find you as good as your word, it is to me the gayest wind that blows, and gives me the best spirits. I write this during a northeast storm of snow, the greatest we have had this winter. Your favours come mixed with the snowy fleeces, which are pure as your virgin innocence, white as your lovely bosom, and--as cold. But let it warm towards some worthy young man, and may Heaven bless you both with every kind of happiness.
I desired Miss Anna Ward[48] to send you over a little book I left with her, for your amusement in that lonely island. My respects to your good father, and mother, and sister. Let me often hear of your welfare, since it is not likely I shall ever again have the pleasure of seeing you. Accept mine, and my wife's sincere thanks for the many civilities I receive from you and your relations; and do me the justice to believe me, dear girl, your affectionate, faithful friend, and humble servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. My respectful compliments to your good brother Ward, and sister; and to the agreeable family of the Wards at Newport, when you see them. Adieu.
TO PETER COLLINSON
Philadelphia, Aug. 25, 1755.
DEAR SIR,--
As you have my former papers on Whirlwinds, &c., I now send you an account of one which I had lately an opportunity of seeing and examining myself.
Being in _Maryland_, riding with Colonel _Tasker_, and some other gentlemen to his country-seat, where I and my son were entertained by that amiable and worthy man with great hospitality and kindness, we saw in the vale below us, a small whirlwind beginning in the road, and shewing itself by the dust it raised and contained. It appeared in the form of a sugar-loaf, spinning on its point, moving up the hill towards us, and enlarging as it came forward. When it passed by us, its smaller part near the ground, appeared no bigger than a common barrel, but widening upwards, it seemed, at 40 or 50 feet high, to be 20 or 30 feet in diameter. The rest of the company stood looking after it, but my curiosity being stronger, I followed it, riding close by its side, and observed its licking up, in its progress, all the dust that was under its smaller part. As it is a common opinion that a shot, fired through a water-spout, will break it, I tried to break this little whirlwind, by striking my whip frequently through it, but without any effect. Soon after, it quitted the road and took into the woods, growing every moment larger and stronger, raising, instead of dust, the old dry leaves with which the ground was thick covered, and making a great noise with them and the branches of the trees, bending some tall trees round in a circle swiftly and very surprizingly, though the progressive motion of the whirl was not so swift but that a man on foot might have kept pace with it; but the circular motion was amazingly rapid. By the leaves it was now filled with, I could plainly perceive that the current of air they were driven by, moved upwards in a spiral line; and when I saw the trunks and bodies of large trees invelop'd in the passing whirl, which continued intire after it had left them I no longer wondered that my whip had no effect on it in its smaller state. I accompanied it about three quarters of a mile, till some limbs of dead trees, broken off by the whirl, flying about and falling near me, made me more apprehensive of danger; and then I stopped, looking at the top of it as it went on, which was visible, by means of the leaves contained in it, for a very great height above the trees. Many of the leaves, as they got loose from the upper and widest part, were scattered in the wind; but so great was their height in the air, that they appeared no bigger than flies. My son, who was by this time come up with me, followed the whirlwind till it left the woods, and crossed an old tobacco-field, where, finding neither dust nor leaves to take up, it gradually became invisible below as it went away over that field. The course of the general wind then blowing was along with us as we travelled, and the progressive motion of the whirlwind was in a direction nearly opposite, though it did not keep a strait line, nor was its progressive motion uniform, it making little sallies on either hand as it went, proceeding sometimes faster and sometimes slower, and seeming sometimes for a few seconds almost stationary, then starting forward pretty fast again. When we rejoined the company, they were admiring the vast height of the leaves now brought by the common wind, over our heads. These leaves accompanied us as we travelled, some falling now and then round about us, and some not reaching the ground till we had gone near three miles from the place where we first saw the whirlwind begin. Upon my asking Colonel _Tasker_ if such whirlwinds were common in _Maryland_, he answered pleasantly, "No, not at all common; but we got this on purpose to treat Mr. Franklin." And a very high treat it was, to
Dear Sir, Your affectionate friend and humble servant, B. F[RANKLIN].
TO MISS CATHERINE RAY
Philadelphia, Sept. 11, 1755.
Begone, business, for an hour, at least, and let me chat a little with my Katy.
I have now before me, my dear girl, three of your favours, viz. of March the 3d, March the 30th, and May the 1st. The first I received just before I set out on a long journey, and the others while I was on that journey, which held me near six weeks. Since my return, I have been in such a perpetual hurry of public affairs of various kinds, as renders it impracticable for me to keep up my private correspondences, even those that afforded me the greatest pleasure.
You ask in your last, how I do, and what I am doing, and whether everybody loves me yet, and why I make them do so.
In regard to the first, I can say, thanks to God, that I do not remember I was ever better. I still relish all the pleasures of life, that a temperate man can in reason desire, and through favour I have them all in my power. This happy situation shall continue as long as God pleases, who knows what is best for his creatures, and I hope will enable me to bear with patience and dutiful submission any change he may think fit to make that is less agreeable. As to the second question, I must confess (but don't you be jealous), that many more people love me now, than ever did before; for since I saw you I have been enabled to do some general services to the country, and to the army, for which both have thanked and praised me, and say they love me. They say so, as you used to do; and if I were to ask any favours of them, they would, perhaps, as readily refuse me; so that I find little real advantage in being beloved, but it pleases my humour.
Now it is near four months since I have been favoured with a single line from you; but I will not be angry with you, because it is my fault. I ran in debt to you three or four letters; and as I did not pay, you would not trust me any more, and you had some reason. But, believe me, I am honest; and, tho' I should never make equal returns, you shall see I will keep fair accounts. Equal returns I can never make, tho' I should write to you by every post; for the pleasure I receive from one of yours is more than you can have from two of mine. The small news, the domestic occurrences among our friends, the natural pictures you draw of persons, the sensible observations and reflections you make, and the easy, chatty manner in which you express every thing, all contribute to heighten the pleasure; and the more as they remind me of those hours and miles, that we talked away so agreeably, even in a winter journey, a wrong road, and a soaking shower.
I long to hear whether you have continued ever since in that monastery [Block Island]; or have broke into the world again, doing pretty mischief; how the lady Wards do, and how many of them are married, or about it; what is become of Mr. B-- and Mr. L--, and what the state of your heart is at this instant? But that, perhaps, I ought not to know; and, therefore, I will not conjure, as you sometimes say I do. If I could conjure, it should be to know what was that _oddest question about me that ever was thought of_, which you tell me a lady had just sent to ask you.
I commend your prudent resolutions, in the article of granting favours to lovers. But, if I were courting you, I could not hardly approve such conduct. I should even be malicious enough to say you were too _knowing_, and tell you the old story of the Girl and the Miller. I enclose you the songs you write for, and with them your Spanish letter with a translation. I honour that honest Spaniard for loving you. It showed the goodness of his taste and judgement. But you must forget him, and bless some worthy young Englishman.
You have spun a long thread, five thousand and twenty-two yards. It will reach almost from Rhode Island hither. I wish I had hold of one end of it, to pull you to me. But you would break it rather than come. The cords of love and friendship are longer and stronger, and in times past have drawn me farther; even back from England to Philadelphia. I guess that some of the same kind will one day draw you out of that Island.
I was extremely pleased with the turf you sent me. The Irish people, who have seen it, say it is the right sort; but I cannot learn that we have any thing like it here. The cheeses, particularly one of them, were excellent. All our friends have tasted it, and all agree that it exceeds any English cheese they ever tasted. Mrs. Franklin was very proud, that a young lady should have so much regard for her old husband, as to send him such a present. We talk of you every time it comes to table. She is sure you are a sensible girl, and a notable housewife, and talks of bequeathing me to you as a legacy; but I ought to wish you a better, and hope she will live these hundred years; for we are grown old together, and if she has any faults, I am so used to 'em that I don't perceive 'em; as the song says,
"Some faults we have all, and so has my Joan, But then they're exceedingly small; And, now I am used, they are like my own, I scarcely can see 'em at all, My dear friends, I scarcely can see 'em at all."
Indeed, I begin to think she has none, as I think of you. And since she is willing I should love you, as much as you are willing to be loved by me, let us join in wishing the old lady a long life and a happy.
With her respectful compliments to you, to your good mother and sisters, present mine, though unknown; and believe me to be, dear girl, your affectionate friend and humble servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. Sally[49] says, "Papa, my love to Miss Katy."--If it was not quite unreasonable, I should desire you to write to me every post, whether you hear from me or not. As to your spelling, don't let those laughing girls put you out of conceit with it. It is the best in the world, for every letter of it stands for something.
TO MISS CATHERINE RAY
Philadelphia, Oct. 16, 1755.
DEAR KATY
Your Favour of the 28th of June came to hand but the 28th of September, just 3 Months after it was written. I had, two Weeks before, wrote you a long Chat, and sent it to the Care of your Brother Ward. I hear you are now in Boston, gay and lovely as usual. Let me give you some fatherly Advice. Kill no more Pigeons than you can eat--Be a good Girl and dont forget your Catechism.--Go constantly to Meeting--or church--till you get a good Husband,--then stay at home, & nurse the Children, and live like a Christian--Spend your spare Hours, in sober Whisk, Prayers, or learning to cypher--You must practise _addition_ to your Husband's Estate, by Industry and Frugality; _subtraction_ of all unnecessary Expenses; _Multiplication_ (I would gladly have taught you that myself, but you thought it was time enough, & wou'dn't learn) he will soon make you a Mistress of it. As to _Division_, I say with Brother Paul, _Let there be no Division among ye_. But as your good Sister Hubbard (my love to her) is well acquainted with _The Rule of Two_, I hope you will become an expert in the _Rule of Three_; that when I have again the pleasure of seeing you, I may find you like my Grape Vine, surrounded with Clusters, plump, juicy, blushing, pretty little rogues, like their Mama. Adieu. The Bell rings, and I must go among the Grave ones, and talk Politicks.
Your affectionate Friend B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. The Plums came safe, and were so sweet from the Cause you mentioned, that I could scarce taste the Sugar.
TO MRS. JANE MECOM
Philadelphia, February 12, 1756.
DEAR SISTER,
I condole with you on the loss of our dear brother.[50] As our number grows less, let us love one another proportionably more.
I am just returned from my military expedition, and now my time is taken up in the Assembly. Providence seems to require various duties of me. I know not what will be next; but I find, the more I seek for leisure and retirement from business, the more I am engaged in it. Benny, I understand, inclines to leave Antigua. He may be in the right. I have no objections. My love to brother and to your children. I am, dearest sister, your affectionate brother,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO MISS E. HUBBARD[51]
Philadelphia, February 23, 1756.
--I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and valuable relation. But it is the will of God and nature, that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why then should we grieve, that a new child is born among the immortals, a new member added to their happy society?
We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or in 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, instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent, that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, we willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it; and he, who quits the whole body, parts at once with all pains and possibilities of pains and diseases which it was liable to, or capable of making him suffer.
Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure, which is to last for ever. His chair was ready first, and he is gone before us. We could not all conveniently start together; and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find him?
Adieu. B. FRANKLIN.
TO REV. GEORGE WHITEFIELD
New York, July 2, 1756.
DEAR SIR:
I received your Favour of the 24th of February with great Pleasure, as it inform'd me of your Welfare, and express'd your continu'd Regard for me. I thank you for the Pamphlet you enclos'd to me. As we had just observ'd a Provincial Fast on the same Occasion, I thought it very seasonable to be publish'd in Pennsylvania, and accordingly reprinted it immediately.
You mention your frequent wish that you were a Chaplain to an American Army. I sometimes wish that you and I were jointly employ'd by the Crown, to settle a Colony on the Ohio. I imagine we could do it effectually, and without putting the Nation to much expence. But I fear we shall never be called upon for such a Service. What a glorious Thing it would be, to settle in that fine Country a large strong Body of Religious and Industrious People! What a Security to the other Colonies; and Advantage to Britain, by Increasing her People, Territory, Strength and Commerce. Might it not greatly facilitate the Introduction of pure Religion among the Heathen, if we could, by such a Colony, show them a better Sample of Christians than they commonly see in our Indian Traders, the most vicious and abandoned Wretches of our Nation?... Life, like a dramatic Piece, should not only be conducted with Regularity, but methinks it should finish handsomely. Being now in the last Act, I begin to cast about for something fit to end with. Or if mine be more properly compar'd to an Epigram, as some of its few Lines are but barely tolerable, I am very desirous of concluding with a bright Point. In such an Enterprise I could spend the Remainder of Life with Pleasure; and I firmly believe God would bless us with Success, if we undertook it with a sincere Regard to his Honour, the Service of our gracious King, and (which is the same thing) the Publick Good.
I thank you cordially for your generous Benefaction to the German School. They go on pretty well, and will do better, when Mr. Smith,[52] who has at present the principal Care of them, shall learn to mind Party-writing and Party Politicks less, and his proper Business more; which I hope time will bring about.
I thank you for your good Wishes and Prayers, and am, with the greatest Esteem and Affection, Dear Sir
Your most obedient humble Servant
My best Respects to } B. FRANKLIN. Mrs. Whitefield }
THE WAY TO WEALTH
Preface to _Poor Richard Improved_: 1758.[53]
COURTEOUS READER,
I have heard that nothing gives an Author so great Pleasure, as to find his Works respectfully quoted by other learned Authors. This Pleasure I have seldom enjoyed; for tho' I have been, if I may say it without Vanity, an _eminent Author_ of Almanacks annually now a full Quarter of a Century, my Brother Authors in the same Way, for what Reason I know not, have ever been very sparing in their Applauses; and no other Author has taken the least Notice of me, so that did not my Writings produce me some solid _Pudding_, the great Deficiency of _Praise_ would have quite discouraged me.
I concluded at length, that the People were the best Judges of my Merit; for they buy my Works; and besides, in my Rambles, where I am not personally known, I have frequently heard one or other of my Adages repeated, with, _as Poor Richard says_, at the End on't; this gave me some Satisfaction, as it showed not only that my Instructions were regarded, but discovered likewise some Respect for my Authority; and I own, that to encourage the Practice of remembering and repeating those wise Sentences, I have sometimes _quoted myself_ with great Gravity.
Judge then how much I must have been gratified by an Incident I am going to relate to you. I stopt my Horse lately where a great Number of People were collected at a Vendue of Merchant Goods. The Hour of Sale not being come, they were conversing on the Badness of the Times, and one of the Company call'd 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 ever be able to pay them? What would you advise us to?_----Father _Abraham_ stood up, and reply'd, If you'd have my Advice, I'll give it you in short, for a _Word to the Wise is enough_, and _many Words won't fill a Bushel_, as _Poor Richard says_. They join'd in desiring him to speak his Mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows;
"Friends, says he, and Neighbours, 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 times as much by our _Folly_, and from these Taxes the Commissioners cannot ease or deliver us by allowing an Abatement. However let us hearken to good Advice, and something may be done for us; _God helps them that help themselves_, as _Poor Richard_ says, in his Almanack of 1733.
It would be thought a hard Government that should tax its People one tenth Part of their _Time_, to be employed in its Service. 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, absolutely shortens Life. _Sloth, like Rust, consumes faster than Labour wears, while the used Key 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 _Poor Richard_ says, _the greatest Prodigality_, since, as he elsewhere tells us, _Lost Time is never found again_; and what we call _Time-enough, always proves little enough_: Let us then up and be doing, and doing to the Purpose; so by Diligence shall we do more 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 overtakes him_, as we read in _Poor Richard_, who adds, _Drive thy Business, let not that drive thee_; and _Early to Bed, and early to rise, makes a Man healthy, wealthy and wise_.
So what signifies _wishing_ and _hoping_ for better Times. We may make these Times better if we bestir ourselves. _Industry need not wish_, as _Poor Richard_ says, and _He that lives upon Hope will die fasting_. _There are no Gains, without Pains_; then _Help Hands, for I have no Lands_, or if I have, they are smartly taxed. And, as _Poor Richard_ likewise observes, _He that hath a Trade hath an Estate_, and _He that hath a Calling, hath an Office of Profit and Honour_; but then the _Trade_ must be worked at, and the _Calling_ well followed, or neither the _Estate_, nor the _Office_, will enable us to pay our Taxes.--If we are industrious we shall never starve; for, as _Poor Richard_ 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, while Despair encreaseth 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 gives all Things to Industry_. Then _plough deep, while Sluggards sleep, and you shall have Corn to sell and to keep_, says _Poor Dick_. Work while it is called To-day, for you know not how much you may be hindered To-morrow, which makes _Poor Richard_ say, _One To-day is worth two To-morrows_; and farther, _Have you somewhat to do To-morrow, do it To-day_. If you were a Servant, would you not be ashamed that a good Master should catch you idle? Are you then your own Master, _be ashamed to catch yourself idle_, as _Poor Dick_ says. When there is so much to be done for yourself, your Family, your Country, 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. 'Tis 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 _constant Dropping wears away Stones_, and by _Diligence and Patience the Mouse ate in two the Cable_; and _little Strokes fell 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?_--I will tell thee, my Friend, what _Poor Richard_ says, _Employ thy Time well if thou meanest to gain Leisure_; and _since thou art not sure of a Minute, throw not away an Hour_. Leisure, is Time for doing something useful; this Leisure the diligent Man will obtain, but the lazy Man never; so that, as _Poor Richard_ says, a _Life of Leisure and a Life of Laziness are two Things_. Do you imagine that Sloth will afford you more Comfort than Labour? No, for as _Poor Richard_ says, _Trouble springs from Idleness, and grievous Toil from needless Ease_. _Many without Labour, would live by their_ WITS _only, but they break for want of Stock._ Whereas Industry gives Comfort, and Plenty, and Respect: _Fly Pleasures, and they'll follow you_. _The diligent Spinner has a large Shift_; and _now I have a Sheep and a Cow, every Body bids me Good morrow_; all which is well said by _Poor Richard_.
But with our Industry, we must likewise be _steady_, _settled_ and _careful_, and oversee our own Affairs _with our own Eyes_, and not trust too much to others; for, as _Poor Richard_ says,
_I never saw an oft removed Tree, Nor yet an oft removed Family, That throve so well as those that settled be._
And again, _Three Removes is as bad as a Fire_; and again, _Keep thy Shop, and thy Shop will keep thee_; and again, _If you would have your Business done, go; If not, send_. And again,
_He that by the Plough would thrive, Himself must either hold or drive._
And again, _The Eye of a 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 oversee Workmen, is to leave them your Purse open_. Trusting too much to others Care is the Ruin of many; for, as the _Almanack_ says, _In the Affairs of this World, Men are saved, not by Faith, but by the Want of it_; but a Man's own Care is profitable; 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 faithful Servant, and one that you like, serve yourself_. And again, he adviseth to Circumspection and Care, even in the smallest Matters, because sometimes _a little Neglect may breed great Mischief_; adding, _For want of a Nail the Shoe was lost; for want of a Shoe the Horse was lost; and for want of a Horse the Rider was lost_, being overtaken and slain by the Enemy, all for want of Care about a Horse shoe Nail.
So much for Industry, my Friends, and Attention to one's own Business; but to these we must add _Frugality_, if we would make our _Industry_ more certainly successful. A Man may, if he knows not how to 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._
_If you would be wealthy_, says he, in another Almanack, _think of Saving as well as of Getting_: _The_ Indies _have not made_ pain _rich, because her_ Outgoes _are greater than her_ Incomes. Away then with your expensive Follies, and you will not have so 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 Wants great._
And farther, _What maintains one Vice, would bring up two Children_. You may think perhaps, That a _little_ Tea, or a _little_ Punch now and then, Diet a _little_ more costly, Clothes a _little_ finer, and a _little_ Entertainment now and then, can be no _great_ Matter; but remember what _Poor Richard_ says, _Many_ a Little _makes a Mickle_; and farther, _Beware of_ little _Expences_; _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 Vendue of _Fineries_ and _Knicknacks_. You call them _Goods_, but if you do not take Care, they will prove _Evils_ to some of you. You expect they will be sold _cheap_, and perhaps they may for less than they cost; but if you have no Occasion for them, they must be _dear_ to you. Remember what _Poor Richard_ says, _Buy what thou 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, and not _real_; or the Bargain, by straitning thee in thy Business, may do thee more Harm than Good. For in another Place he says, _Many have been ruined by buying good Pennyworths_. Again, _Poor Richard_ says, _'Tis foolish to lay out Money in a Purchase of Repentance_; and yet this Folly is practised every Day at Vendues, for want of minding the Almanack. _Wise Men_, as _Poor Dick_ says, _learn by others Harms, Fools scarcely by their own_; but _Felix 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 Families; _Silks and Sattins, Scarlet and Velvets_, as _Poor Richard_ says, _put out the Kitchen Fire_. These are not the _Necessaries_ of Life; they can scarcely be called the _Conveniencies_, and yet only because they look pretty, how many _want_ to _have_ them. The _artificial_ Wants of Mankind thus become more numerous than the _natural_; and, as _Poor Dick_ says, _For one_ poor _Person, there are an hundred_ indigent. By these, and other Extravagancies, 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, that a _Ploughman 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 _'tis 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 taking out of, the Meal-tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the Bottom_; then, as _Poor Dick_ says, _When the Well's dry, they know the Worth of Water_. But this they might have known before, 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 in again_.--_Poor Dick_ farther advises, and says,
_Fond_ Pride of Dress _is sure a very Curse; E'er_ 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, _'Tis easier to_ suppress _the first Desire, than to_ satisfy _all that follow it_. And 'tis as truly Folly for the Poor to ape the Rich, as for the Frog to swell, in order to equal the Ox.
_Great Estates 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 Misfortune.
_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 Superfluities! We are offered, by the Terms of this Vendue, _Six 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 Liberty_. 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 lying; for, as _Poor Richard_ says, _The second Vice is Lying, the first is running in Debt_. And again, to the same Purpose, _Lying rides upon Debt's Back_. Whereas a freeborn _Englishman_ ought not to be ashamed or afraid to see or speak to any Man living. But Poverty often deprives a Man of all Spirit and Virtue: _'Tis hard for an empty Bag to stand upright_, as _Poor Richard_ truly says. What would you think of that Prince, or that Government, who should 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 are 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 deprive you of your Liberty, by confining you in Goal [_sic_] for Life, or to sell 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 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 extreamly short. _Time_ will seem to have added Wings to his Heels as well as 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 _industrious_ and _free_; be _frugal_ and _free_. At present, perhaps, you may think yourself in thriving Circumstances, and that you can bear a little Extravangance [_sic_] without Injury; but,
_For Age and Want, save while you may; No Morning Sun lasts a whole Day,_
as _Poor Richard_ says--Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but ever while you live, Expence is constant and certain; and _'tis easier to build two Chimnies 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 Philosopher's Stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad Times, or the Difficulty of paying Taxes.
This Doctrine, my Friends, is _Reason_ and _Wisdom_; but after all, do not depend too much upon your own _Industry_, and _Frugality_, and _Prudence_, though excellent Things, for they may all be blasted without the Blessing of Heaven; and therefore ask that Blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember _Job_ suffered, and was afterwards prosperous.
And now to conclude, _Experience keeps a dear School, but Fools will learn in no other, and scarce in that_; for it is true, _we may give Advice, but we cannot give Conduct_, as _Poor Richard_ says: However, remember this, _They that won't be counselled, can't be helped_, as _Poor Richard_ says: And farther, That _if you will not hear Reason, she'll surely rap your Knuckles_."
Thus the old Gentleman ended his Harangue. The People heard it, and approved the Doctrine and immediately practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common Sermon; for the Vendue opened, and they began to buy extravagantly, notwithstanding all his Cautions, and their own Fear of Taxes.--I found the good Man had thoroughly studied my Almanacks, and digested all I had dropt on those Topicks during the Course of Five-and-twenty Years. The frequent Mention he made of me must have tired any 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_ I had made of the Sense of all Ages and Nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the Echo of it; and though I had at first determined to buy Stuff for a new Coat, I went away resolved to wear my old One a little longer. _Reader_, if thou wilt do the same, thy Profit will be as great as mine.
_I am, as ever, Thine to serve thee,_ _July 7, 1757._ RICHARD SAUNDERS.
TO HUGH ROBERTS
London, September 16, 1758.
DEAR FRIEND,
Your kind letter of June 1st gave me great pleasure. I thank you for the concern you express about my health, which at present seems tolerably confirmed by my late journey into different parts of the kingdom, that have been highly entertaining as well as useful to me. Your visits to my little family in my absence are very obliging, and I hope you will be so good as to continue them. Your remark on the thistle and the Scotch motto made us very merry, as well as your string of puns. You will allow me to claim a little merit or demerit in the last, as having had some hand in making you a punster; but the wit of the first is keen, and all your own.
Two of the former members of the Junto you tell me are departed this life, Potts and Parsons.[54] Odd characters both of them. Parsons a wise man, that often acted foolishly; Potts a wit, that seldom acted wisely. If _enough_ were the means to make a man happy, one had always the _means_ of happiness, without ever enjoying the _thing_; the other had always the _thing_, without ever possessing the _means_. Parsons, even in his prosperity, always fretting; Potts, in the midst of his poverty, ever laughing. It seems, then, that happiness in this life rather depends on internals than externals; and that, besides the natural effects of wisdom and virtue, vice and folly, there is such a thing as a happy or an unhappy constitution. They were both our friends, and loved us. So, peace to their shades. They had their virtues as well as their foibles; they were both honest men, and that alone, as the world goes, is one of the greatest of characters. They were old acquaintances, in whose company I formerly enjoyed a great deal of pleasure, and I cannot think of losing them, without concern and regret.
I shall, as you suppose, look on every opportunity you give me of doing you service, as a favour, because it will afford me pleasure. I know how to make you ample returns for such favours, by giving you the pleasure of building me a house. You may do it without losing any of your own time; it will only take some part of that you now spend in other folks' business. It is only jumping out of their waters into mine.
I am grieved for our friend Syng's loss. You and I, who esteem him, and have valuable sons ourselves, can sympathize with him sincerely. I hope yours is perfectly recovered, for your sake as well as for his own. I wish he may be, in every respect, as good and as useful as his father. I need not wish him more; and can only add, that I am, with great esteem, dear friend, yours affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. I rejoice to hear of the prosperity of the Hospital, and send the wafers. I do not quite like your absenting yourself from that good old club, the Junto. Your more frequent presence might be a means of keeping them from being all engaged in measures not the best for public welfare. I exhort you, therefore, to return to your duty; and, as the Indians say, to confirm my words, I send you a Birmingham tile. I thought the neatness of the figures would please you.
TO MRS. JANE MECOM
London, September 16, 1758.
DEAR SISTER,
I received your favour of June 17. I wonder you have had no letter from me since my being in England. I have wrote you at least two, and I think a third before this, and what was next to waiting on you in person, sent you my picture. In June last I sent Benny a trunk of books, and wrote to him; I hope they are come to hand, and that he meets with encouragement in his business. I congratulate you on the conquest of Cape Breton, and hope as your people took it by praying, the first time, you will now pray that it may never be given up again, which you then forgot. Billy is well, but in the country. I left him at Tunbridge Wells, where we spent a fortnight, and he is now gone with some company to see Portsmouth. We have been together over a great part of England this summer, and among other places, visited the town our father was born in, and found some relations in that part of the country still living.
Our cousin Jane Franklin, daughter of our uncle John, died about a year ago. We saw her husband, Robert Page, who gave us some old letters to his wife, from uncle Benjamin. In one of them, dated Boston, July 4, 1723, he writes that your uncle Josiah has a daughter Jane, about twelve years old, a good-humoured child. So keep up to your character, and don't be angry when you have no letters. In a little book he sent her, called "None but Christ," he wrote an acrostick on her name, which for namesake's sake, as well as the good advice it contains, I transcribe and send you, viz.
"Illuminated from on high, And shining brightly in your sphere, Ne'er faint, but keep a steady eye, Expecting endless pleasures there.
"Flee vice as you'd a serpent flee; Raise _faith_ and _hope_ three stories higher, And let Christ's endless love to thee Ne'er cease to make thy love aspire. Kindness of heart by words express, Let your obedience be sincere, In prayer and praise your God address, Nor cease, till he can cease to hear."
After professing truly that I had a great esteem and veneration for the pious author, permit me a little to play the commentator and critic on these lines. The meaning of _three stories higher_ seems somewhat obscure. You are to understand, then, that _faith_, _hope_, and _charity_ have been called the three steps of Jacob's ladder, reaching from earth to heaven; our author calls them _stories_, likening religion to a building, and these are the three stories of the Christian edifice. Thus improvement in religion is called _building up_ and _edification_. _Faith_ is then the ground floor, _hope_ is up one pair of stairs. My dear beloved Jenny, don't delight so much to dwell in those lower rooms, but get as fast as you can into the garret, for in truth the best room in the house is _charity_. For my part, I wish the house was turned upside down; 'tis so difficult (when one is fat) to go up stairs; and not only so, but I imagine _hope_ and _faith_ may be more firmly built upon _charity_, than _charity_ upon _faith_ and _hope_. However that may be, I think it the better reading to say--
"Raise faith and hope one story higher."
Correct it boldly, and I'll support the alteration; for, when you are up two stories already, if you raise your building three stories higher you will make five in all, which is two more than there should be, you expose your upper rooms more to the winds and storms; and, besides, I am afraid the foundation will hardly bear them, unless indeed you build with such light stuff as straw and stubble, and that, you know, won't stand fire. Again, where the author says,
"Kindness of heart by words express,"
strike out _words_, and put in _deeds_. The world is too full of compliments already. They are the rank growth of every soil, and choak the good plants of benevolence, and beneficence; nor do I pretend to be the first in this comparison of words and actions to plants; you may remember an ancient poet, whose works we have all studied and copied at school long ago.
"A man of words and not of deeds Is like a garden full of weeds."
'Tis a pity that good works, among some sorts of people, are so little valued, and good words admired in their stead: I mean seemingly pious discourses, instead of humane benevolent actions. Those they almost put out of countenance, by calling morality _rotten morality_, righteousness _ragged righteousness_, and even filthy rags--and when you mention virtue, pucker up their noses as if they smelt a stink; at the same time that they eagerly snuff up an empty canting harangue, as if it was a posey of the choicest flowers: So they have inverted the good old verse, and say now
"A man of deeds and not of words Is like a garden full of ----"
I have forgot the rhyme, but remember 'tis something the very reverse of perfume. So much by way of commentary.
My wife will let you see my letter, containing an account of our travels, which I would have you read to sister Dowse, and give my love to her. I have no thoughts of returning till next year, and then may possibly have the pleasure of seeing you and yours; taking Boston in my way home. My love to brother and all your children, concludes at this time from, dear Jenny, your affectionate brother,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO LORD KAMES[55]
London, May 3, 1760.
MY DEAR LORD,
I have endeavoured to comply with your request in writing something on the present situation of our affairs in America, in order to give more correct notions of the British interest with regard to the colonies, than those I found many sensible men possessed of. Inclosed you have the production, such as it is. I wish it may in any degree be of service to the public. I shall at least hope this from it, for my own part, that you will consider it as a letter from me to you, and take its length as some excuse for being so long a-coming.[56]
I am now reading with great pleasure and improvement your excellent work, _The Principles of Equity_. It will be of the greatest advantage to the Judges in our colonies, not only in those which have Courts of Chancery, but also in those which, having no such courts, are obliged to mix equity with the common law. It will be of more service to the colony Judges, as few of them have been bred to the law. I have sent a book to a particular friend, one of the Judges of the Supreme Court in Pennsylvania.
I will shortly send you a copy of the Chapter you are pleased to mention in so obliging a manner; and shall be extremely obliged in receiving a copy of the collection of _Maxims for the Conduct of Life_, which you are preparing for the use of your children. I purpose likewise a little work for the benefit of youth, to be called _The Art of Virtue_.[57] From the title I think you will hardly conjecture what the nature of such a book may be. I must therefore explain it a little. Many people lead bad lives that would gladly lead good ones, but know not _how_ to make the change. They have frequently _resolved_ and _endeavoured_ it; but in vain, because their endeavours have not been properly conducted. To expect people to be good, to be just, to be temperate, &c., without _shewing_ them _how_ they should _become_ so, seems like the ineffectual charity mentioned by the Apostle, which consisted in saying to the hungry, the cold, and the naked, "Be ye fed, be ye warmed, be ye clothed," without shewing them how they should get food, fire, or clothing.
Most people have naturally _some_ virtues, but none have naturally _all_ the virtues. To _acquire_ those that are wanting, and secure what we acquire, as well as those we have naturally, is the subject of _an art_. It is as properly an art as painting, navigation, or architecture. If a man would become a painter, navigator, or architect, it is not enough that he is _advised_ to be one, that he is _convinced_ by the arguments of his adviser, that it would be for his advantage to be one, and that he resolves to be one, but he must also be taught the principles of the art, be shewn all the methods of working, and how to acquire the habits of using properly all the instruments; and thus regularly and gradually he arrives, by practice, at some perfection in the art. If he does not proceed thus, he is apt to meet with difficulties that discourage him, and make him drop the pursuit.
My _Art of Virtue_ has also its instruments, and teaches the manner of using them. Christians are directed to have faith in Christ, as the effectual means of obtaining the change they desire. It may, when sufficiently strong, be effectual with many: for a full opinion, that a Teacher is infinitely wise, good, and powerful, and that he will certainly reward and punish the obedient and disobedient, must give great weight to his precepts, and make them much more attended to by his disciples. But many have this faith in so weak a degree, that it does not produce the effect. Our _Art of Virtue_ may, therefore, be of great service to those whose faith is unhappily not so strong, and may come in aid of its weakness. Such as are naturally well disposed, and have been so carefully educated, as that good habits have been early established, and bad ones prevented, have less need of this art; but all may be more or less benefited by it. It is, in short, to be adapted for universal use. I imagine what I have now been writing will seem to savour of great presumption: I must therefore speedily finish my little piece, and communicate the manuscript to you, that you may judge whether it is possible to make good such pretensions. I shall at the same time hope for the benefit of your corrections. I am, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
TO MISS MARY STEVENSON[58]
Craven Street, June 11, 1760.
DEAR POLLY:
'Tis a very sensible Question you ask, how the Air can affect the Barometer, when its Opening appears covered with Wood? If indeed it was so closely covered as to admit of no Communication of the outward Air to the Surface of the Mercury, the Change of Weight in the Air could not possibly affect it. But the least Crevice is sufficient for the Purpose; a Pinhole will do the Business. And if you could look behind the Frame to which your Barometer is fixed, you would certainly find some small Opening.
There are indeed some Barometers in which the Body of Mercury at the lower End is contain'd in a close Leather Bag, and so the Air cannot come into immediate Contact with the Mercury; yet the same Effect is produc'd. For, the Leather being flexible, when the Bag is press'd by any additional Weight of Air, it contracts, and the Mercury is forced up into the Tube; when the Air becomes lighter, and its Pressure less, the Weight of the Mercury prevails, and it descends again into the Bag.
Your Observation on what you have lately read concerning Insects is very just and solid. Superficial Minds are apt to despise those who make that Part of the Creation their Study, as mere Triflers; but certainly the World has been much oblig'd to them. Under the Care and Management of Man, the Labours of the little Silkworm afford Employment and Subsistence to Thousands of Families, and become an immense Article of Commerce. The Bee, too, yields us its delicious Honey, and its Wax useful to a Multitude of Purposes. Another Insect, it is said, produces the Cochineal, from whence we have our rich Scarlet Dye. The Usefulness of the Cantharides, or Spanish Flies, in Medicine, is known to all, and Thousands owe their Lives to that Knowledge. By human Industry and Observation, other Properties of other Insects may possibly be hereafter discovered, and of equal Utility. A thorough Acquaintance with the Nature of these little Creatures may also enable Mankind to prevent the Increase of such as are noxious, or secure us against the Mischiefs they occasion. These Things doubtless your Books make mention of: I can only add a particular late Instance which I had from a Swedish Gentleman of good Credit. In the green Timber, intended for Ship-building at the King's Yards in that Country, a kind of Worms were found, which every year became more numerous and more pernicious, so that the Ships were greatly damag'd before they came into Use. The King sent Linnæus, the great Naturalist, from Stockholm, to enquire into the Affair, and see if the Mischief was capable of any Remedy. He found, on Examination, that the Worm was produced from a small Egg, deposited in the little Roughnesses on the Surface of the Wood, by a particular kind of Fly or Beetle; from whence the Worm, as soon as it was hatched, began to eat into the Substance of the Wood, and after some time came out again a Fly of the Parent kind, and so the Species increased. The season in which this Fly laid its Eggs, Linnæus knew to be about a Fortnight (I think) in the Month of May, and at no other time of the Year. He therefore advis'd, that, some Days before that Season, all the green Timber should be thrown into the Water, and kept under Water till the Season was over. Which being done by the King's Order, the Flies missing their usual Nest, could not increase; and the Species was either destroy'd or went elsewhere; and the Wood was effectually preserved; for, after the first Year, it became too dry and hard for their purpose.
There is, however, a prudent Moderation to be used in Studies of this kind. The Knowledge of Nature may be ornamental, and it may be useful; but if, to attain an Eminence in that, we neglect the Knowledge and Practice of essential Duties, we deserve Reprehension. For there is no Rank in Natural Knowledge of equal Dignity and Importance with that of being a good Parent, a good Child, a good Husband or Wife, a good Neighbour or Friend, a good Subject or Citizen, that is, in short, a good Christian. Nicholas Gimcrack, therefore, who neglected the Care of his Family, to pursue Butterflies, was a just Object of Ridicule, and we must give him up as fair Game to the satyrist.
Adieu, my dear Friend, and believe me ever Yours affectionately, B. FRANKLIN.
TO MRS. DEBORAH FRANKLIN
London, June 27, 1760.
MY DEAR CHILD,
I wrote a Line to you by the Pacquet, to let you know we were well, and I promis'd to write you fully by Capt. Budden, and answer all your Letters, which I accordingly now sit down to do. I am concern'd that so much Trouble should be given you by idle Reports concerning me. Be satisfied, my dear, that while I have my Senses, and God vouchsafes me his Protection, I shall do nothing unworthy the Character of an honest Man, and one that loves his Family.
I have not yet seen Mr. Beatty, nor do I know where to write to him. He forwarded your Letter to me from Ireland. The Paragraph of your Letter inserted in the Papers, related to the Negro School. I gave it to the Gentlemen concern'd, as it was a Testimony in favour of their pious Design. But I did not expect they would have printed it with your Name. They have since chosen [me] one of the Society, and I am at present Chairman for the current year. I enclose you an Account of their Proceedings.[59]
I did not receive the _Prospect of Quebec_, which you mention that you sent me. Peter continues with me, and behaves as well as I can expect, in a Country where there are many Occasions of spoiling Servants, if they are ever so good. He has as few Faults as most of them, and I see with only one Eye, and hear only with one Ear; so we rub on pretty comfortably. King, that you enquire after, is not with us. He ran away from our House, near two Years ago, while we were absent in the Country; But was soon found in Suffolk, where he had been taken in the Service of a Lady, that was very fond of the Merit of making him a Christian, and contributing to his Education and Improvement. As he was of little Use, and often in Mischief, Billy consented to her keeping him while we stay in England. So the Lady sent him to School, has him taught to read and write, to play on the Violin and French Horn, with some other Accomplishments more useful in a Servant. Whether she will finally be willing to part with him, or persuade Billy to sell him to her, I know not. In the mean time he is no Expence to us. The dried Venison was very acceptable, and I thank you for it. We have had it constantly shav'd to eat with our Bread and Butter for Breakfast, and this Week saw the last of it. The Bacon still holds out, for we are choice of it. Some Rashers of it, yesterday relish'd a Dish of Green Pease. Mrs. Stevenson thinks there was never any in England so good. The smok'd Beef was also excellent.
The Accounts you give me of the Marriages of our friends are very agreeable. I love to hear of every thing that tends to increase the Number of good People. You cannot conceive how shamefully the Mode here is a single Life. One can scarce be in the Company of a Dozen Men of Circumstance and Fortune, but what it is odds that you find on enquiry eleven of them are single. The great Complaint is the excessive Expensiveness of English Wives.
I am extreamly concern'd with you at the Misfortune of our Friend Mr. Griffith. How could it possibly happen? 'Twas a terrible Fire that of Boston. I shall contribute here towards the Relief of the Sufferers. Our Relations have escap'd I believe generally; but some of my particular Friends must have suffer'd greatly.
I think you will not complain this Year, as you did the last, of being so long without a Letter. I have wrote to you very frequently; and shall not be so much out of the Way of writing this Summer as I was the last. I hope our friend Bartram is safely return'd to his Family. Remember me to him in the kindest Manner.
Poor David Edwards died this Day Week, of a Consumption. I had a Letter from a Friend of his, acquainting me that he had been long ill, and incapable of doing his Business, and was at Board in the Country. I fear'd he might be in Straits, as he never was prudent enough to lay up any thing. So I wrote to him immediately, that, if he had occasion, he might draw on me for Five Guineas. But he died before my Letter got to hand. I hear the Woman, at whose House he long lodg'd and boarded, has buried him and taken all he left, which could not be much, and there are some small Debts unpaid. He maintained a good Character at Bury, where he lived some years, and was well respected, to my Knowledge, by some Persons of Note there. I wrote to you before, that we saw him at Bury, when we went thro' Suffolk into Norfolk, the Year before last. I hope his good Father, my old Friend, continues well.
Give my Duty to Mother, and Love to my dear Sally. Remember me affectionately to all Enquiring Friends, and believe me ever, my dearest Debby, your loving Husband,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO JARED INGERSOLL[60]
Philadelphia, December 11, 1762.
DEAR SIR:--
I thank you for your kind congratulations. It gives me pleasure to hear from an old friend; it will give me much more pleasure to see him. I hope, therefore, nothing will prevent the journey you propose for next summer and the favour you intend me of a visit. I believe I must make a journey early in the spring to Virginia, but purpose being back again before the hot weather. You will be kind enough to let me know beforehand what time you expect to be here, that I may not be out of the way, for that would mortify me exceedingly.
I should be glad to know what it is that distinguishes Connecticut religion from common religion. Communicate, if you please, some of these particulars that you think will amuse me as a virtuoso. When I travelled in Flanders, I thought of your excessively strict observation of Sunday; and that a man could hardly travel on that day among you upon his lawful occasions without hazard of punishment; while, where I was, every one travelled, if he pleased, or diverted himself in any other way; and in the afternoon both high and low went to the play or the opera, where there was plenty of singing, fiddling and dancing. I looked around for God's judgments, but saw no signs of them. The cities were well built and full of inhabitants, the markets filled with plenty, the people well favoured and well clothed, the fields well tilled, the cattle fat and strong, the fences, houses, and windows all in repair, and no Old Tenor anywhere in the country; which would almost make one suspect that the Deity is not so angry at that offence as a New England Justice.
I left our friend Mr. Jackson[61] well, and I had the great pleasure of finding my little family well when I came home, and my friends as cordial and more numerous than ever. May every prosperity attend you and yours. I am, dear friend, yours affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO MISS MARY STEVENSON
Philad^a, March 25, 1763.
MY DEAR POLLEY,
Your pleasing Favour of Nov. 11 is now before me. It found me as you suppos'd it would, happy with my American Friends and Family about me; and it made me more happy in showing me that I am not yet forgotten by the dear Friends I left in England. And indeed, why should I fear they will ever forget me, when I feel so strongly that I shall ever remember them!
I sympathise with you sincerely in your Grief at the Separation from your old Friend, Miss Pitt. The Reflection that she is going to be more happy, when she leaves you, might comfort you, if the Case was likely to be so circumstanc'd; but when the Country and Company she has been educated in, and those she is removing to, are compared, one cannot possibly expect it. I sympathize no less with you in your Joys. But it is not merely on your Account, that I rejoice at the Recovery of your dear Dolly's Health. I love that dear good Girl myself, and I love her other Friends. I am, therefore, made happy by what must contribute so much to the Happiness of them all. Remember me to her, and to every one of that worthy and amiable Family, most affectionately.
Remember me in the same manner to your and my good Doctor and Mrs. Hawkesworth.[62] You have lately, you tell me, had the Pleasure of spending three Days with them at Mr. Stanley's. It was a sweet Society! I too, once partook of that same Pleasure, and can therefore feel what you must have felt. Remember me also to Mr. and Mrs. Stanley,[63] and to Miss Arlond.
Of all the enviable Things England has, I envy it most its People. Why should that petty Island, which compar'd to America, is but like a stepping-Stone in a Brook, scarce enough of it above Water to keep one's Shoes dry; why, I say, should that little Island enjoy in almost every Neighbourhood, more sensible, virtuous, and elegant Minds, than we can collect in ranging 100 Leagues of our vast forests? But 'tis said the Arts delight to travel Westward. You have effectually defended us in this glorious War, and in time you will improve us. After the first Cares for the Necessaries of Life are over, we shall come to think of the Embellishments. Already some of our young Geniuses begin to lisp Attempts at Painting, Poetry, and Musick. We have a young Painter now studying at Rome.[64] Some specimens of our Poetry I send you, which if Dr. Hawkesworth's fine Taste cannot approve, his good Heart will at least excuse. The Manuscript Piece is by a young Friend of mine, and was occasion'd by the Loss of one of his Friends, who lately made a Voyage to Antigua to settle some Affairs, previous to an intended Marriage with an amiable young Lady here, but unfortunately died there. I send it to you, because the Author is a great Admirer of Mr. Stanley's musical Compositions, and has adapted this Piece to an Air in the 6th _Concerto_ of that Gentleman, the sweetly solemn Movement of which he is quite in Raptures with. He has attempted to compose a _Recitativo_ for it, but not being able to satisfy himself in the Bass, wishes I could get it supply'd. If Mr. Stanley would condescend to do that for him, thro' your Intercession, he would esteem it as one of the highest Honours, and it would make him excessively happy. You will say that a _Recitativo_ can be but a poor Specimen of our Music. 'Tis the best and all I have at present, but you may see better hereafter.
I hope Mr. Ralph's[65] Affairs are mended since you wrote. I know he had some Expectations, when I came away, from a Hand that would help him. He has Merit, and one would think ought not to be so unfortunate.
I do not wonder at the behaviour you mention of Dr. Smith towards me, for I have long since known him thoroughly. I made that Man my Enemy by doing him too much Kindness. 'Tis the honestest Way of acquiring an Enemy. And, since 'tis convenient to have at least one Enemy, who by his Readiness to revile one on all Occasions, may make one careful of one's Conduct, I shall keep him an Enemy for that purpose; and shall observe your good Mother's Advice, never again to receive him as a Friend. She once admir'd the benevolent Spirit breath'd in his Sermons. She will now see the Justness of the Lines your Laureat Whitehead addresses to his Poets, and which I now address to her.
"Full many a peevish, envious, slanderous Elf Is, in his Works, Benevolence itself. For all Mankind, unknown, his Bosom heaves; He only injures those, with whom he lives. Read then the Man;--does _Truth_ his Actions guide, Exempt from _Petulance_, exempt from _Pride_? To social Duties does his Heart attend, As Son, as Father, Husband, Brother, _Friend_? _Do those, who know him, love him?_ If they do, You've _my_ Permission: you may love him too."
Nothing can please me more than to see your philosophical Improvements when you have Leisure to communicate them to me. I still owe you a long Letter on that Subject, which I shall pay. I am vex'd with Mr. James, that he has been so dilatory in Mr. Maddison's _Armonica_. I was unlucky in both the Workmen, that I permitted to undertake making those Instruments. The first was fanciful, and never could work to the purpose, because he was ever conceiving some new Improvement, that answer'd no End. The other I doubt is absolutely idle. I have recommended a Number to him from hence, but must stop my hand.
Adieu, my dear Polly, and believe me as ever, with the sincerest Esteem and Regard, your truly affectionate Friend and humble Servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. My love to Mrs. Tickell and Mrs. Rooke, and to Pitty, when you write to her. Mrs. Franklin and Sally desire to be affectionately remember'd to you. I find the printed Poetry I intended to enclose will be too bulky to send per the Packet. I shall send it by a Ship, that goes shortly from hence.
TO JOHN FOTHERGILL, M.D.[66]
March 14, 1764.
DEAR DOCTOR,--
I received your favour of the 10th of December. It was a great deal for one to write whose time was so little his own. By the way, when do you intend to live?--_i.e._, to enjoy life. When will you retire to your villa, give yourself repose, delight in viewing the operations of nature in the vegetable creation, assist her in her works, get your ingenious friends at times about you, make them happy with your conversation, and enjoy theirs: or, if alone, amuse yourself with your books and elegant collections?
To be hurried about perpetually from one sick chamber to another is not living. Do you please yourself with the fancy that you are doing good? You are mistaken. Half the lives you save are not worth saving, as being useless, and almost all the other half ought not to be saved, as being mischievous. Does your conscience never hint to you the impiety of being in constant warfare against the plans of Providence? Disease was intended as the punishment of intemperence, sloth, and other vices, and the example of that punishment was intended to promote and strengthen the opposite virtues. But here you step in officiously with your Art, disappoint those wise intentions of nature, and make men safe in their excesses, whereby you seem to me to be of just the same service to society as some favourite first minister who out of the great benevolence of his heart should procure pardons of all criminals that applied to him; only think of the consequences.
You tell me the Quakers are charged on your side of the water with being, by their aggressions, the cause of the war. Would you believe it that they are charged here, not with offending the Indians and thereby provoking the war, but with gaining their friendship by presents, supplying them privately with arms and ammunition, and engaging them to fall upon and murder the poor white people on the frontiers? Would you think it possible that thousands even here should be made to believe this, and many hundreds of them be raised in arms, not only to kill some converted Indians, supposed to be under the Quakers' protection, but to punish the Quakers who were supposed to give that protection? Would you think these people audacious enough to avow such designs in a public declaration sent to the Governor? Would you imagine that innocent Quakers, men of fortune and character, should think it necessary to fly for safety out of Philadelphia into the Jersies, fearing the violence of such armed mobs, and confiding little in the power or inclination of the government to protect them? And would you imagine that strong suspicions now prevail that those mobs, after committing so barbarous murders hitherto unpunished, are privately tampered with to be made instruments of government to awe the Assembly into proprietary measures? And yet all this has happened within a few weeks past.
More wonders. You know that I don't love the proprietary and that he does not love me. Our totally different tempers forbid it. You might therefore expect that the late new appointments of one of his family would find me ready for opposition. And yet when his nephew arrived, our Governor, I considered government as government, and paid him all respect, gave him on all occasions my best advice, promoted in the Assembly a ready compliance with every thing he proposed or recommended, and when those daring rioters, encouraged by general approbation of the populace, treated his proclamation with contempt, I drew my pen in the cause; wrote a pamphlet (that I have sent you) to render the rioters unpopular; promoted an association to support the authority of the Government and defend the Governor by taking arms, signed it first myself and was followed by several hundreds, who took arms accordingly. The Governor offered me the command of them, but I chose to carry a musket and strengthen his authority by setting an example of obedience to his order. And would you think it, this proprietary Governor did me the honour, in an alarm, to run to my house at midnight, with his counsellors at his heels, for advice, and made it his head-quarters for some time. And within four and twenty hours, your old friend was a common soldier, a counsellor, a kind of dictator, an ambassador to the country mob, and on his returning home, nobody again. All this has happened in a few weeks.
More wonders! The Assembly received a Governor of the Proprietary family with open arms, addressed him with sincere expressions of kindness and respect, opened their purses to them, and presented him with six hundred pounds; made a Riot Act and prepared a Militia Bill immediately, at his instance, granted supplies, and did everything that he requested, and promised themselves great happiness under his administration. But suddenly his dropping all inquiries after the murderers, and his answering the disputes of the rioters privately and refusing the presence of the Assembly who were equally concerned in the matters contained in their remonstrance, brings him under suspicion; his insulting the Assembly without the least provocation by charging them with disloyalty and with making an infringement on the King's prerogatives, only because they had presumed to name in a bill offered for his assent a trifling officer (somewhat like one of your toll-gatherers at a turnpike) without consulting him, and his refusing several of their bills or proposing amendments needless disgusting.
These things bring him and his government into sudden contempt. All regard for him in the Assembly is lost. All hopes of happiness under a Proprietary Government are at an end. It has now scarce authority enough to keep the common peace, and was another to come, I question, though a dozen men were sufficient, whether one could find so many in Philadelphia willing to rescue him or his Attorney General, I won't say from hanging, but from any common insult. All this too happened in a few weeks.
In fine, everything seems in this country, once the land of peace and order, to be running fast into anarchy and confusion. But we hope there is virtue enough in your great nation to support a good Prince in the execution of a good government and the exercise of his just prerogatives against all the attempts of unreasonable faction. I have been already too long. Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever, yours affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO SARAH FRANKLIN
Reedy Island, 7 at night, November 8, 1764.
MY DEAR SALLY,
We got down here at sunset, having taken in more live stock at Newcastle, with some other things we wanted. Our good friends, Mr. Galloway, Mr. Wharton, and Mr. James, came with me in the ship from Chester to Newcastle and went ashore there. It was kind to favour me with their good company as far as they could. The affectionate leave taken of me by so many friends at Chester was very endearing. God bless them and all Pennsylvania.
My dear child, the natural prudence and goodness of heart God has blest you with make it less necessary for me to be particular in giving you advice. I shall therefore only say, that the more attentively dutiful and tender you are towards your good mamma, the more you will recommend yourself to me. But why should I mention _me_, when you have so much higher a promise in the commandments, that such conduct will recommend you to the favour of God. You know I have many enemies, all indeed on the public account, (for I cannot recollect that I have in a private capacity given just cause of offence to any one whatever,) yet they are enemies, and very bitter ones; and you must expect their enmity will extend in some degree to you, so that your slightest indiscretions will be magnified into crimes, in order the more sensibly to wound and afflict me. It is therefore the more necessary for you to be extremely circumspect in all your behaviour, that no advantage may be given to their malevolence.
Go constantly to church, whoever preaches. The act of devotion in the Common Prayer Book is your principal business there, and if properly attended to, will do more towards amending the heart than sermons generally can do. For they were composed by men of much greater piety and wisdom, than our common composers of sermons can pretend to be; and therefore I wish you would never miss the prayer days; yet I do not mean you should despise sermons, even of the preachers you dislike, for the discourse is often much better than the man, as sweet and clear waters come through very dirty earth. I am the more particular on this head, as you seemed to express a little before I came away some inclination to leave our church, which I would not have you do.
For the rest, I would only recommend to you in my absence, to acquire those useful accomplishments, arithmetic and bookkeeping. This you might do with ease, if you would resolve not to see company on the hours you set apart for those studies.
We expect to be at sea to-morrow, if this wind holds; after which I shall have no opportunity of writing to you, till I arrive (if it please God I do arrive) in England. I pray that his blessing may attend you, which is worth more than a thousand of mine, though they are never wanting. Give my love to your brother and sister,[67] as I cannot write to them, and remember me affectionately to the young ladies your friends, and to our good neighbours. I am, my dear child, your affectionate father,
B. FRANKLIN.
_From_ A NARRATIVE OF THE LATE MASSACRES
IN LANCASTER COUNTY, OF A NUMBER OF INDIANS, FRIENDS OF THIS PROVINCE, BY PERSONS UNKNOWN. WITH SOME OBSERVATIONS ON THE SAME.[68]
[1764]
... On _Wednesday_, the 14th of _December_, 1763, Fifty-seven Men, from some of our Frontier Townships, who had projected the Destruction of this little Commonwealth, came, all well mounted, and armed with Firelocks, Hangers and Hatchets, having travelled through the Country in the Night, to _Conestogoe_ Manor. There they surrounded the small Village of _Indian_ Huts, and just at Break of Day broke into them all at once. Only three Men, two Women, and a young Boy, were found at home, the rest being out among the neighbouring White People, some to sell the Baskets, Brooms and Bowls they manufactured, and others on other Occasions. These poor defenceless Creatures were immediately fired upon, stabbed, and hatcheted to Death! The good _Shehaes_, among the rest, cut to Pieces in his Bed. All of them were scalped and otherwise horribly mangled. Then their Huts were set on Fire, and most of them burnt down. When the Troop, pleased with their own Conduct and Bravery, but enraged that any of the poor _Indians_ had escaped the Massacre, rode off, and in small Parties, by different Roads, went home.
The universal Concern of the neighbouring White People on hearing of this Event, and the Lamentations of the younger _Indians_, when they returned and saw the Desolation, and the butchered half-burnt Bodies of their murdered Parents and other Relations, cannot well be expressed.
* * * * *
Notwithstanding this Proclamation [by the Governor], those cruel men again assembled themselves, and hearing that the remaining fourteen _Indians_ were in the Workhouse at _Lancaster_, they suddenly appeared in that Town, on the 27th of _December_. Fifty of them, armed as before, dismounting, went directly to the Workhouse, and by Violence broke open the Door, and entered with the utmost Fury in their Countenances. When the poor Wretches saw they had _no Protection_ nigh, nor could possibly escape, and being without the least Weapon for Defence, they divided into their little Families, the Children clinging to the Parents; they fell on their Knees, protested their Innocence, declared their Love to the _English_, and that, in their whole Lives, they had never done them Injury; and in this Posture they all received the Hatchet! Men, Women and little Children were every one inhumanly murdered!--in cold Blood!
The barbarous Men who committed the atrocious Fact, in defiance of Government, of all Laws human and divine, and to the eternal Disgrace of their Country and Colour, then mounted their Horses, huzza'd in Triumph, as if they had gained a Victory, and rode off--_unmolested_!
The Bodies of the Murdered were then brought out and exposed in the Street, till a Hole could be made in the Earth to receive and cover them.
But the Wickedness cannot be covered, the Guilt will lie on the whole Land, till Justice is done on the Murderers. THE BLOOD OF THE INNOCENT WILL CRY TO HEAVEN FOR VENGEANCE.
* * * * *
If an _Indian_ injures me, does it follow that I may revenge that Injury on all _Indians_? It is well known, that _Indians_ are of different Tribes, Nations and Languages, as well as the White People. In _Europe_ if the _French_, who are White People, should injure the _Dutch_, are they to revenge it on the _English_, because they too are White People? The only Crime of these poor Wretches seems to have been, that they had a reddish-brown Skin, and black Hair; and some People of that Sort, it seems, had murdered some of our Relations. If it be right to kill Men for such a Reason, then, should any Man, with a freckled Face and red Hair, kill a Wife or Child of mine, it would be right for me to revenge it, by killing all the freckled red-haired Men, Women and Children, I could afterwards anywhere meet with.
But it seems these People think they have a better Justification; nothing less than the _Word of God_. With the Scriptures in their Hands and Mouths, they can set at nought that express Command, _Thou shalt do no Murder_; and justify their Wickedness by the Command given _Joshua_ to destroy the Heathen. Horrid Perversion of Scripture and of Religion! To father the worst of Crimes on the God of Peace and Love! Even the _Jews_, to whom that particular Commission was directed, spared the _Gibeonites_, on Account of their Faith once given. The Faith of this Government has been frequently given to those _Indians_; but that did not avail them with People who despise Government.
We pretend to be _Christians_, and, from the superior Light we enjoy, ought to exceed _Heathens_, _Turks_, _Saracens_, _Moors_, _Negroes_ and _Indians_, in the Knowledge and Practice of what is right. I will endeavour to show, by a few Examples from Books and History, the Sense those People have had of such Actions.
Homer wrote his Poem, called the _Odyssey_, some Hundred Years before the Birth of Christ. He frequently speaks of what he calls not only _the Duties_, but _the Sacred Rites of Hospitality_, (exercised towards Strangers, while in our House or Territory) as including, besides all the common Circumstances of Entertainment, full Safety and Protection of Person, from all Danger of Life, from all Injuries, and even Insults. The Rites of Hospitality were called _sacred_, because the Stranger, the Poor, and the Weak, when they applied for Protection and Relief, were, from the Religion of those Times, supposed to be sent by the Deity to try the Goodness of Men, and that he would avenge the Injuries they might receive, where they ought to have been protected. These Sentiments therefore influenced the Manners of all Ranks of People, even the meanest; for we find that when _Ulysses_ came, as a poor Stranger, to the Hut of Eumæus, the Swineherd, and his great Dogs ran out to tear the ragged Man, _Eumæus_ drave them away with Stones; and
"'Unhappy Stranger!' (thus the faithful Swain Began, with Accent gracious and humane,) 'What Sorrow had been mine, if at _my_ Gate Thy rev'rend Age had met a shameful Fate! But enter this my homely Roof, and see Our Woods not void of Hospitality.' He said, and seconding the kind Request, With friendly Step precedes the unknown Guest, A shaggy Goat's soft Hide beneath him spread, And with fresh Rushes heap'd an ample Bed. Joy touch'd the Hero's tender Soul, to find So just Reception from a Heart so kind: And [']Oh, ye Gods! with all your Blessings grace' (He thus broke forth) 'this Friend of human Race!['] The Swain reply'd. [']It never was our guise To slight the Poor, or aught humane despise. For Jove unfolds the hospitable Door, 'Tis Jove that sends the Stranger and the Poor.[']"[69]
These Heathen People thought, that after a Breach of the Rites of Hospitality, a Curse from Heaven would attend them in every thing they did, and even their honest Industry in their Callings would fail of Success. Thus when _Ulysses_ tells _Eumæus_, who doubted the Truth of what he related, "If I deceive you in this, I should deserve Death, and I consent that you should put me to Death," _Eumæus_ rejects the Proposal, as what would be attended with both Infamy and Misfortune, saying ironically,
"Doubtless, O Guest! great Laud and Praise were mine, If, after social Rites and Gifts bestow'd, I stain'd my Hospitable Hearth with Blood. How would the Gods my righteous Toils succeed, And bless the Hand that made a Stranger bleed? No more."--
Even an open Enemy, in the Heat of Battle, throwing down his Arms, submitting to his Foe, and asking Life and Protection, was supposed to acquire an immediate Right to that Protection. Thus one describes his being saved, when his Party was defeated;
"We turn'd to Flight; the gath'ring Vengeance spread On all Parts round, and Heaps on Heaps lie dead. The radiant Helmet from my Brows unlac'd, And lo, on Earth my Shield and Javelin cast, I meet the Monarch with a Suppliant's Face, Approach his Chariot, and his Knees embrace. He heard, he sav'd, he plac'd me at his Side; My State he pity'd, and my Tears he dry'd; Restrain'd the Rage the vengeful Foe express'd, And turn'd the deadly Weapons from my Breast. Pious to guard the Hospitable Rite, And fearing Jove, whom Mercy's Works delight."
The Suitors of _Penelope_ are by the same ancient Poet described as a sett of lawless Men, who were _regardless of the sacred Rites of Hospitality_. And therefore when the Queen was informed they were slain, and that by _Ulysses_, she, not believing that _Ulysses_ was returned, says,
"Ah no! some God the Suitors Deaths decreed, Some God descends, and by his Hand they bleed: Blind, to contemn the Stranger's righteous Cause, And violate all hospitable Laws! ... The Powers they defy'd; But Heav'n is just, and by a God they dy'd."
* * * * *
Now I am about to mention something of _Indians_, I beg that I may not be understood as framing Apologies for _all Indians_. I am far from desiring to lessen the laudable Spirit of Resentment in my Countrymen against those now at War with us, so far as it is justified by their Perfidy and Inhumanity. I would only observe, that the _Six Nations_, as a Body, have kept Faith with the _English_ ever since we knew them, now near an Hundred Years; and that the governing Part of those People have had Notions of Honour, whatever may be the Case with the Rum-debauched, Trader-corrupted Vagabonds and Thieves on the _Sasquehannah_ and _Ohio_, at present in Arms against us.
* * * * *
Unhappy People! to have lived in such Times, and by such Neighbours! We have seen, that they would have been safer among the ancient _Heathens_, with whom the Rites of Hospitality were _sacred_. They would have been considered as _Guests_ of the Publick, and the Religion of the Country would have operated in their Favour. But our Frontier People call themselves _Christians_! They would have been safer, if they had submitted to the _Turks_; for ever since _Mahomet's_ Reproof to _Khaled_, even the cruel _Turks_ never kill Prisoners in cold Blood. These were not even Prisoners. But what is the Example of _Turks_ to Scripture _Christians_? They would have been safer, though they had been taken in actual War against the _Saracens_, if they had once drank Water with them. These were not taken in War against us, and have drank with us, and we with them, for Fourscore Years. But shall we compare _Saracens_ to _Christians_?
They would have been safer among the _Moors_ in _Spain_, though they had been Murderers of Sons; if Faith had once been pledged to them, and a Promise of Protection given. But these have had the Faith of the _English_ given to them many Times by the Government, and, in Reliance on that Faith, they lived among us, and gave us the Opportunity of murdering them. However, what was honourable in _Moors_, may not be a Rule to us; for we are _Christians_! They would have been safer it seems among _Popish Spaniards_, even if Enemies, and delivered into their Hands by a Tempest. These were not Enemies; they were born among us, and yet we have killed them all. But shall we imitate _idolatrous Papists_, we that are _enlightened Protestants_? They would have even been safer among the _Negroes_ of _Africa_, where at least one manly Soul would have been found, with Sense, Spirit and Humanity enough, to stand in their Defence. But shall _Whitemen_ and _Christians_ act like a _Pagan Negroe_? In short it appears, that they would have been safe in any Part of the known World, except in the Neighbourhood of the CHRISTIAN WHITE SAVAGES of _Peckstang_ and _Donesgall_!
O, ye unhappy Perpetrators of this horrid Wickedness! reflect a Moment on the Mischief ye have done, the Disgrace ye have brought on your Country, on your Religion, and your Bible, on your Families and Children! Think on the Destruction of your captivated Country-folks (now among the wild _Indians_) which probably may follow, in Resentment of your Barbarity! Think on the Wrath of the United _Five Nations_, hitherto our Friends, but now provoked by your murdering one of their Tribes, in Danger of becoming our bitter Enemies. Think of the mild and good Government you have so audaciously insulted; the Laws of your King, your Country, and your God, that you have broken; the infamous Death that hangs over your Heads; for Justice, though slow, will come at last. All good People everywhere detest your Actions. You have imbrued your Hands in innocent Blood; how will you make them clean? The dying Shrieks and Groans of the Murdered, will often sound in your Ears: Their Spectres will sometimes attend you, and affright even your innocent Children! Fly where you will, your Consciences will go with you. Talking in your Sleep shall betray you, in the Delirium of a Fever you yourselves shall make your own Wickedness known.
* * * * *
Let us rouze ourselves, for Shame, and redeem the Honour of our Province from the Contempt of its Neighbours; let all good Men join heartily and unanimously in Support of the Laws, and in strengthening the Hands of Government; that JUSTICE may be done, the Wicked punished, and the Innocent protected; otherwise we can, as a People, expect no Blessing from Heaven; there will be no Security for our Persons or Properties; Anarchy and Confusion will prevail over all; and Violence without Judgment, dispose of every Thing.
* * * * *
TO THE EDITOR OF A NEWSPAPER
Monday, May 20, [1765].
SIR,
In your Paper of Wednesday last, an ingenious Correspondent that calls himself THE SPECTATOR, and dates from _Pimlico_, under the Guise of Good Will to the News-writers, whom he calls an "useful Body of Men in this great City," has, in my Opinion, artfully attempted to turn them & their Works into Ridicule, wherein if he could succeed, great Injury might be done to the Public as well as to those good People.
Supposing, Sir, that the "_We hears_" they give us of this & t'other intended Voyage or Tour of this & t'other great Personage, were mere Inventions, yet they at least offer us an innocent Amusement while we read, and useful Matter of Conversation when we are dispos'd to converse.
Englishmen, Sir, are too apt to be silent when they have nothing to say; too apt to be sullen when they are silent; and, when they are sullen, to hang themselves. But, by these _We hears_, we are supplied with abundant funds of Discourse, we discuss the Motives for such Voyages, the Probability of their being undertaken, and the Practicability of their Execution. Here we display our Judgment in Politics, our Knowledge of the Interests of Princes, and our Skill in Geography, and (if we have it) show our Dexterity moreover in Argumentation. In the mean time, the tedious Hour is kill'd, we go home pleas'd with the Applauses we have receiv'd from others, or at least with those we secretly give to ourselves: We sleep soundly, & live on, to the Comfort of our Families. But, Sir, I beg leave to say, that all the Articles of News that seem improbable are not mere Inventions. Some of them, I can assure you on the Faith of a Traveller, are serious Truths. And here, quitting Mr. Spectator of Pimlico, give me leave to instance the various numberless Accounts the Newswriters have given us, with so much honest Zeal for the welfare of _Poor Old England_, of the establishing Manufactures in the Colonies to the Prejudice of those of this Kingdom. It is objected by superficial Readers, who yet pretend to some Knowledge of those Countries, that such Establishments are not only improbable, but impossible, for that their Sheep have but little Wooll, not in the whole sufficient for a Pair of Stockings a Year to each Inhabitant; and that, from the Universal Dearness of Labour among them, the Working of Iron and other Materials, except in some few coarse Instances, is impracticable to any Advantage.
Dear Sir, do not let us suffer ourselves to be amus'd with such groundless Objections. The very Tails of the American Sheep are so laden with Wooll, that each has a little Car or Waggon on four little Wheels, to support & keep it from trailing on the Ground.[70] Would they caulk their Ships, would they fill their Beds, would they even litter their Horses with Wooll, if it were not both plenty and cheap? And what signifies Dearness of Labour, when an English Shilling passes for five and Twenty? Their engaging 300 Silk Throwsters here in one Week, for New York, was treated as a Fable, because, forsooth, they have "no Silk there to throw." Those, who made this Objection, perhaps did not know, that at the same time the Agents from the King of Spain were at Quebec to contract for 1000 Pieces of Cannon to be made there for the Fortification of Mexico, and at N York engaging the annual Supply of woven Floor-Carpets for their West India Houses, other Agents from the Emperor of China were at Boston treating about an Exchange of raw Silk for Wooll, to be carried in Chinese Junks through the Straits of Magellan.
And yet all this is as certainly true, as the Account said to be from Quebec, in all the Papers of last Week, that the Inhabitants of Canada are making Preparations for a Cod and Whale Fishery this "Summer in the upper Lakes." Ignorant People may object that the upper Lakes are fresh, and that Cod and Whale are Salt Water Fish: But let them know, Sir, that Cod, like other Fish when attack'd by their Enemies, fly into any Water where they can be safest; that Whales, when they have a mind to eat Cod, pursue them wherever they fly; and that the grand Leap of the Whale in that Chase up the Fall of Niagara is esteemed, by all who have seen it, as one of the finest Spectacles in Nature. Really, Sir, the World is grown too incredulous. It is like the Pendulum ever swinging from one Extream to another. Formerly every thing printed was believed, because it was in print. Now Things seem to be disbelieved for just the very same Reason. Wise Men wonder at the present Growth of Infidelity. They should have consider'd, when they taught People to doubt the Authority of Newspapers and the Truth of Predictions in Almanacks, that the next Step might be a Disbelief in the well vouch'd Accts of Ghosts Witches, and Doubts even of the Truths of the Creed!
Thus much I thought it necessary to say in favour of an honest Set of Writers, whose comfortable Living depends on collecting & supplying the Printers with News at the small Price of Sixpence an Article, and who always show their Regard to Truth, by contradicting in a subsequent Article such as are wrong,--for another Sixpence,--to the great Satisfaction & Improvement of us Coffee-house Students in History & Politics, and the infinite Advantage of all future Livies, Rapins, Robertsons, Humes, and McAulays, who may be sincerely inclin'd to furnish the World with that _rara Avis_, a true History.
I am, Sir, your humble Servant, A TRAVELLER.
TO LORD KAMES
Craven Street, London, June 2, 1765.
MY DEAR LORD,
... In my passage to America I read your excellent work, the _Elements of Criticism_, in which I found great entertainment: much to admire and nothing to reprove. I only wished you had examined more fully the subject of Music, and demonstrated, that the pleasure which artists feel in hearing much of that composed in the modern taste, is not the natural pleasure arising from melody or harmony of sounds, but of the same kind with the pleasure we feel on seeing the surprising feats of tumblers and rope-dancers, who execute difficult things. For my part I take this to be really the case, and suppose it is the reason why those, who being unpractised in music, and therefore unacquainted with those difficulties have little or no pleasure in hearing this music. Many pieces of it are mere compositions of tricks. I have sometimes, at a concert, attended by a common audience, placed myself so as to see all their faces, and observed no signs of pleasure in them during the performance of a great part that was admired by the performers themselves; while a plain old _Scottish tune_, which they disdained, and could scarcely be prevailed on to play, gave manifest and general delight.
Give me leave on this occasion to extend a little the sense of your position, that "Melody and Harmony are separately agreeable, and in union delightful," and to give it as my opinion, that the reason why the Scotch tunes have lived so long, and will probably live for ever (if they escape being stifled in modern affected ornament), is merely this, that they are really compositions of melody and harmony united, or rather that their melody is harmony. I mean the simple tunes sung by a single voice. As this will appear paradoxical, I must explain my meaning. In common acceptation, indeed, only an agreeable _succession_ of sounds is called _Melody_, and only the _co-existence_ of agreeing sounds, _Harmony_. But, since the memory is capable of retaining for some moments a perfect idea of the pitch of a past sound, so as to compare with it the pitch of a succeeding sound, and judge truly of their agreement or disagreement, there may and does arise from thence a sense of harmony between the present and past sounds, equally pleasing with that between two present sounds.
Now the construction of the old Scotch tunes is this, that almost every succeeding _emphatical_ note is a third, a fifth, an octave, or in short some note that is in concord with the preceding note. Thirds are chiefly used, which are very pleasing concords. I use the word _emphatical_ to distinguish those notes which have a stress laid on them in singing the tune, from the lighter connecting notes, that serve merely, like grammar articles, to tack the others together.
That we have a most perfect idea of a sound just past, I might appeal to all acquainted with music, who know how easy it is to repeat a sound in the same pitch with one just heard. In tuning an instrument, a good ear can as easily determine that two strings are in unison by sounding them separately, as by sounding them together; their disagreement is also as easily, I believe I may say more easily and better distinguished, when sounded separately; for when sounded together, though you know by the beating that one is higher than the other, you cannot tell which it is. [I have ascribed to memory the ability of comparing the pitch of a present tone with that of one past. But, if there should be, as possibly there may be, something in the ear, similar to what we find in the eye, that ability would not be entirely owing to memory. Possibly the vibrations given to the auditory nerves by a particular sound may actually continue some time after the cause of those vibrations is past, and the agreement or disagreement of a subsequent sound become by comparison with them more discernible. For the impression made on the visual nerves by a luminous object will continue for twenty or thirty seconds. Sitting in a room, look earnestly at the middle of a window a little while when the day is bright, and then shut your eyes; the figure of the window will still remain in the eye, and so distinct that you may count the panes.
A remarkable circumstance attending this experiment, is, that the impression of forms is better retained than that of colors; for after the eyes are shut, when you first discern the image of the window, the panes appear dark, and the cross bars of the sashes, with the window frames and walls, appear white or bright; but, if you still add to the darkness in the eyes by covering them with your hand, the reverse instantly takes place, the panes appear luminous and the cross bars dark. And by removing the hand they are again reversed. This I know not how to account for. Nor for the following; that, after looking long through green spectacles, the white paper of a book will on first taking them off appear to have a blush of red; and, after long looking through red glasses, a greenish cast; this seems to intimate a relation between green and red not yet explained.]
Farther, when we consider by whom these ancient tunes were composed, and how they were first performed, we shall see that such harmonical succession of sounds was natural and even necessary in their construction. They were composed by the minstrels of those days to be played on the harp accompanied by the voice. The harp was strung with wire, [which gives a sound of long continuance,] and had no contrivance, like that in the modern harpsichord, by which the sound of the preceding could be stoppt, the moment a succeeding note began. To avoid _actual_ discord, it was therefore necessary that the succeeding emphatic note should be a chord with the preceding, as their sounds must exist at the same time. Hence arose that beauty in those tunes that has so long pleased, and will please for ever, though men scarce know why. That they were originally composed for the harp, and of the most simple kind, I mean a harp without any half notes but those in the natural scale, and with no more than two octaves of strings, from C to C, I conjecture from another circumstance, which is, that not one of those tunes, really ancient, has a single artificial half note in it, and that in tunes where it was most convenient for the voice to use the middle notes of the harp, and place the key in F, there the B, which if used should be a B flat, is always omitted by passing over it with a third. The connoisseurs in modern music will say, I have no taste; but I cannot help adding, that I believe our ancestors, in hearing a good song, distinctly articulated, sung to one of those tunes, and accompanied by the harp, felt more real pleasure than is communicated by the generality of modern operas, exclusive of that arising from the scenery and dancing. Most tunes of late composition, not having this natural harmony united with their melody, have recourse to the artificial harmony of a bass, and other accompanying parts. This support, in my opinion, the old tunes do not need, and are rather confused than aided by it. Whoever has heard James Oswald play them on his violoncello, will be less inclined to dispute this with me. I have more than once seen tears of pleasure in the eyes of his auditors; and yet, I think, even _his_ playing those tunes would please more, if he gave them less modern ornament. My son, when we parted, desired me to present his Affectionate respects to you, Lady Kames, and your amiable children: be so good with those, to accept mine, and believe me, with sincerest esteem, my dear Lord, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. I do promise myself the pleasure of seeing you and my other friends in Scotland, before I return to America.
LETTER CONCERNING THE GRATITUDE OF AMERICA[71]
AND THE PROBABILITY AND EFFECTS OF A UNION WITH GREAT BRITAIN; AND CONCERNING THE REPEAL OR SUSPENSION OF THE STAMP ACT
[London,] January 6, 1766.
SIR,
I have attentively perused the paper you sent me, and am of opinion, that the measure it proposes, of an union with the colonies, is a wise one; but I doubt it will hardly be thought so here, till it is too late to attempt it. The time has been, when the colonies would have esteemed it a great advantage, as well as honour to be permitted to send members to Parliament; and would have asked for that privilege, if they could have had the least hopes of obtaining it. The time is now come when they are indifferent about it, and will probably not ask it, though they might accept it if offered them; and the time will come, when they will certainly refuse it. But if such an union were now established (which methinks it highly imports this country to establish) it would probably subsist as long as Britain shall continue a nation. This people, however, is too proud, and too much despises the Americans, to bear the thought of admitting them to such an equitable participation in the government of the whole.
Then the next best thing seems to be, leaving them in the quiet enjoyment of their respective constitutions; and when money is wanted for any public service, in which they ought to bear a part, calling upon them by requisitorial letters from the crown (according to the long-established custom) to grant such aids as their loyalty shall dictate, and their abilities permit. The very sensible and benevolent author of that paper seems not to have known, that such a constitutional custom subsists, and has always hitherto been practised in America; or he would not have expressed himself in this manner; "It is evident, beyond a doubt, to the intelligent and impartial, that after the very extraordinary efforts, which were effectually made by Great Britain in the late war to save the colonists from destruction, and attended of necessity with an enormous load of debts in consequence, that the same colonists, now firmly secured from foreign enemies, should be somehow induced to contribute some proportion towards the exigencies of state in future." This looks as if he conceived the war had been carried on at the sole expense of Great Britain, and the colonies only reaped the benefit, without hitherto sharing the burden, and were therefore now indebted to Britain on that account. And this is the same kind of argument that is used by those, who would fix on the colonies the heavy charge of unreasonableness and ingratitude, which I think your friend did not intend.
Please to acquaint him, then, that the fact is not so; that, every year during the war, requisitions were made by the crown on the colonies for raising money and men; that accordingly they made more extraordinary efforts, in proportion to their abilities, than Britain did; that they raised, paid, and clothed, for five or six years, near twenty-five thousand men, besides providing for other services, as building forts, equipping guardships, paying transports, &c. And that this was more than their fair proportion is not merely an opinion of mine, but was the judgment of government here, in full knowledge of all the facts; for the then ministry, to make the burthen more equal, recommended the case to Parliament, and obtained a reimbursement to the Americans of about two hundred thousand pounds sterling every year; which amounted only to about two fifths of their expense; and great part of the rest lies still a load of debt upon them; heavy taxes on all their estates, real and personal, being laid by acts of their assemblies to discharge it, and yet will not discharge it in many years.
While, then, these burdens continue; while Britain restrains the colonies in every branch of commerce and manufactures that she thinks interferes with her own; while she drains the colonies, by her trade with them, of all the cash they can procure by every art and industry in any part of the world, and thus keeps them always in her debt; (for they can make no law to discourage the importation of your to _them_ ruinous superfluities, as _you_ do the superfluities of France; since such a law would immediately be reported against by your Board of Trade, and repealed by the crown;) I say, while these circumstances continue, and while there subsists the established method of royal requisitions for raising money on them by their own assemblies on every proper occasion; can it be necessary or prudent to distress and vex them by taxes laid here, in a Parliament wherein they have no representative, and in a manner which they look upon to be unconstitutional and subversive of their most valuable rights? And are they to be thought unreasonable and ungrateful if they oppose such taxes?
Wherewith, they say, shall we show our loyalty to our gracious King, if our money is to be given by others, without asking our consent? And, if the Parliament has a right thus to take from us a penny in the pound, where is the line drawn that bounds that right, and what shall hinder their calling, whenever they please, for the other nineteen shillings and eleven pence? Have we then any thing that we can call our own? It is more than probable, that bringing representatives from the colonies to sit and act here as members of Parliament, thus uniting and consolidating your dominions, would in a little time remove these objections and difficulties, and make the future government of the colonies easy; but, till some such thing is done, I apprehend no taxes, laid there by Parliament here, will ever be collected, but such as must be stained with blood; and I am sure the profit of such taxes will never answer the expense of collecting them, and that the respect and affection of the Americans to this country will in the struggle be totally lost, perhaps never to be recovered; and therewith all the commercial and political advantages, that might have attended the continuance of this respect and this affection.
In my own private judgment, I think an immediate repeal of the Stamp Act would be the best measure for this country; but a suspension of it for three years, the best for that. The repeal would fill them with joy and gratitude, reëstablish their respect and veneration for Parliament, restore at once their ancient and natural love for this country, and their regard for every thing that comes from it; hence the trade would be renewed in all its branches; they would again indulge in all the expensive superfluities you supply them with, and their own new-assumed home industry would languish. But the suspension, though it might continue their fears and anxieties, would at the same time keep up their resolutions of industry and frugality; which in two or three years would grow into habits, to their lasting advantage. However, as the repeal will probably not be now agreed to, from what I think a mistaken opinion, that the honour and dignity of government is better supported by persisting in a wrong measure once entered into, than by rectifying an error as soon as it is discovered; we must allow the next best thing for the advantage of both countries, is the suspension; for, as to executing the act by force, it is madness, and will be ruin to the whole.
The rest of your friend's reasonings and propositions appear to me truly just and judicious. I will therefore only add, that I am as desirous of his acquaintance and intimacy, as he was of my opinion.
I am, with much esteem,
Your obliged friend, B. FRANKLIN.
TO LORD KAMES
London, April 11, 1767.
MY DEAR LORD,--
I received your obliging favour of January the 19th. You have kindly relieved me from the pain I had long been under. You are goodness itself. I ought to have answered yours of December 25, 1765. I never received a letter that contained sentiments more suitable to my own. It found me under much agitation of mind on the very important subject it treated. It fortified me greatly in the judgment I was inclined to form (though contrary to the general vogue) on the then delicate and critical situation of affairs between Great Britain and her Colonies, and on that weighty point, their _Union_. You guessed aright in supposing that I would not be a _mute in that play_. I was extremely busy, attending Members of both Houses, informing, explaining, consulting, disputing, in a continual hurry from morning to night, till the affair was happily ended. During the course of it, being called before the House of Commons, I spoke my mind pretty freely. Inclosed I send you the imperfect account that was taken of that examination. You will there see how entirely we agree, except in a point of fact, of which you could not but be misinformed; the papers at that time being full of mistaken assertions, that the colonies had been the cause of the war, and had ungratefully refused to bear any part of the expence of it.
I send it you now, because I apprehend some late incidents are likely to revive the contest between the two countries. I fear it will be a mischievous one. It becomes a matter of great importance that clear ideas should be formed on solid principles, both in Britain and America, of the true political relation between them, and the mutual duties belonging to that relation. Till this is done, they will be often jarring. I know none whose knowledge, sagacity and impartiality qualify him so thoroughly for such a service, as yours do you. I wish therefore you would consider it. You may thereby be the happy instrument of great good to the nation, and of preventing much mischief and bloodshed. I am fully persuaded with you, that a _Consolidating Union_, by a fair and equal representation of all the parts of this empire in Parliament, is the only firm basis on which its political grandeur and prosperity can be founded. Ireland once wished it, but now rejects it. The time has been, when the colonies might have been pleased with it: they are now _indifferent_ about it; and if it is much longer delayed, they too will _refuse_ it. But the pride of this people cannot bear the thought of it, and therefore it will be delayed. Every man in England seems to consider himself as a piece of a sovereign over America; seems to jostle himself into the throne with the King, and talks of _our subjects in the Colonies_. The Parliament cannot well and wisely make laws suited to the Colonies, without being properly and truly informed of their circumstances, abilities, temper, &c. This it cannot be, without representatives from thence: and yet it is fond of this power, and averse to the only means of acquiring the necessary knowledge for exercising it; which is desiring to be _omnipotent_, without being _omniscient_.
I have mentioned that the contest is likely to be revived. It is on this occasion. In the same session with the stamp act, an act was passed to regulate the quartering of soldiers in America; when the bill was first brought in, it contained a clause, empowering the officers to quarter their soldiers in private houses: this we warmly opposed, and got it omitted. The bill passed, however, with a clause, that empty houses, barns, &c., should be hired for them, and that the respective provinces where they were should pay the expence and furnish firing, bedding, drink, and some other articles to the soldiers _gratis_. There is no way for any province to do this, but by the Assembly's making a law to raise the money. The Pennsylvanian Assembly has made such a law: the New York Assembly has refused to do it: and now all the talk here is of sending a force to compel them.
The reasons given by the Assembly to the Governor, for the refusal, are, that they understand the act to mean the furnishing such things to soldiers, only while on their march through the country, and not to great bodies of soldiers, to be fixt as at present, in the province; the burthen in the latter case being greater than the inhabitants can bear: That it would put it in the power of the Captain-General to oppress the province at pleasure, &c. But there is supposed to be another reason at bottom, which they intimate, though they do not plainly express it; to wit, that it is of the nature of an _internal tax_ laid on them by Parliament, which has no right so to do. Their refusal is here called _Rebellion_, and punishment is thought of.
Now waving that point of right, and supposing the Legislatures in America subordinate to the Legislature of Great Britain, one might conceive, I think, a power in the superior Legislature to forbid the inferior Legislatures making particular laws; but to enjoin it to make a particular law contrary to its own judgment, seems improper; an Assembly or Parliament not being an _executive_ officer of Government, whose duty it is, in law-making, to obey orders, but a _deliberative_ body, who are to consider what comes before them, its propriety, practicability, or possibility, and to determine accordingly: The very nature of a Parliament seems to be destroyed, by supposing it may be bound, and compelled by a law of a superior Parliament, to make a law contrary to its own judgment.
Indeed, the act of Parliament in question has not, as in other acts, when a duty is enjoined, directed a penalty on neglect or refusal, and a mode of recovering that penalty. It seems, therefore, to the people in America as a mere requisition, which they are at liberty to comply with or not, as it may suit or not suit the different circumstances of different provinces. Pennsylvania has therefore voluntarily complied. New York, as I said before, has refused. The Ministry that made the act, and all their adherents, call for vengeance. The present Ministry are perplext, and the measures they will finally take on the occasion, are yet unknown. But sure I am, that, if _Force_ is used, great mischief will ensue; the affections of the people of America to this country will be alienated; your commerce will be diminished; and a total separation of interests be the final consequence.
It is a common, but mistaken notion here, that the Colonies were planted at the expence of Parliament, and that therefore the Parliament has a right to tax them, &c. The truth is, they were planted at the expence of private adventurers, who went over there to settle, with leave of the King, given by charter. On receiving this leave, and those charters, the adventurers voluntarily engaged to remain the King's subjects, though in a foreign country; a country which had not been conquered by either King or Parliament, but was possessed by a free people.
When our planters arrived, they purchased the lands of the natives, without putting King or Parliament to any expence. Parliament had no hand in their settlement, was never so much as consulted about their constitution, and took no kind of notice of them, till many years after they were established. I except only the two modern Colonies, or rather attempts to make Colonies, (for they succeed but poorly, and as yet hardly deserve the name of Colonies), I mean Georgia and Nova Scotia, which have hitherto been little better than Parliamentary jobs. Thus all the colonies acknowledge the King as their sovereign; his Governors there represent his person: Laws are made by their Assemblies or little Parliaments, with the Governor's assent, subject still to the King's pleasure to confirm or annul them: Suits arising in the Colonies, and differences between Colony and Colony, are determined by the King in Council. In this view, they seem so many separate little states, subject to the same Prince. The _sovereignty of the_ King is therefore easily understood. But nothing is more common here than to talk of the _sovereignty_ of PARLIAMENT, and the _sovereignty of_ THIS NATION over the Colonies; a kind of sovereignty, the idea of which is not so clear, nor does it clearly appear on what foundation it is established. On the other hand, it seems necessary for the common good of the empire, that a power be lodged somewhere, to regulate its general commerce: this can be placed nowhere so properly as in the Parliament of Great Britain; and therefore, though that power has in some instances been executed with great partiality to Britain, and prejudice to the Colonies, they have nevertheless always submitted to it. Custom-houses are established in all of them, by virtue of laws made here, and the duties constantly paid, except by a few smugglers, such as are here and in all countries; but internal taxes laid on them by Parliament, are still and ever will be objected to, for the reasons that you will see in the mentioned Examination.
Upon the whole, I have lived so great a part of my life in Britain, and have formed so many friendships in it, that I love it, and sincerely wish it prosperity; and therefore wish to see that Union, on which alone I think it can be secured and established. As to America, the advantages of such a union to her are not so apparent. She may suffer at present under the arbitrary power of this country; she may suffer for a while in a separation from it; but these are temporary evils that she will outgrow. Scotland and Ireland are differently circumstanced. Confined by the sea, they can scarcely increase in numbers, wealth and strength, so as to overbalance England. But America, an immense territory, favoured by Nature with all advantages of climate, soil, great navigable rivers, and lakes, &c. must become a great country, populous and mighty; and will, in a less time than is generally conceived, be able to shake off any shackles that may be imposed on her, and perhaps place them on the imposers. In the mean time, every act of oppression will sour their tempers, lessen greatly, if not annihilate the profits of your commerce with them, and hasten their final revolt; for the seeds of liberty are universally found there, and nothing can eradicate them. And yet, there remains among that people, so much respect, veneration and affection for Britain, that, if cultivated prudently, with kind usage, and tenderness for their privileges, they might be easily governed still for ages, without force, or any considerable expence. But I do not see here a sufficient quantity of the wisdom, that is necessary to produce such a conduct, and I lament the want of it.
I borrowed at Millar's the new edition of your _Principles of Equity_, and have read with great pleasure the preliminary discourse on the Principles of Morality. I have never before met with any thing so satisfactory on the subject. While reading it, I made a few remarks as I went along. They are not of much importance, but I send you the paper.
I know the lady you mention; having, when in England before, met her once or twice at Lord Bath's. I remember I then entertained the same opinion of her that you express. On the strength of your kind recommendation, I purpose soon to wait on her.
This is unexpectedly grown a long letter. The visit to Scotland, and the _Art of Virtue_, we will talk of hereafter. It is now time to say, that I am, with increasing esteem and affection, my dear friend, yours ever,[72]
B. FRANKLIN.
TO MISS MARY STEVENSON
Paris, Sept. 14, 1767.
DEAR POLLY,
I am always pleas'd with a Letter from you, and I flatter myself you may be sometimes pleas'd in receiving one from me, tho' it should be of little Importance, such as this, which is to consist of a few occasional Remarks made here, and in my Journey hither.
Soon after I left you in that agreable Society at Bromley, I took the Resolution of making a Trip with Sir John Pringle[73] into France. We set out the 28th past. All the way to Dover we were furnished with PostChaises, hung so as to lean forward, the Top coming down over one's Eyes, like a Hood, as if to prevent one's seeing the Country; which being one of my great Pleasures, I was engag'd in perpetual Disputes with the Innkeepers, Hostlers, and Postilions, about getting the Straps taken up a Hole or two before, and let down as much behind, they insisting that the Chaise leaning forward was an Ease to the Horses, and that the contrary would kill them. I suppose the chaise leaning forward looks to them like a Willingness to go forward, and that its hanging back shows a Reluctance. They added other Reasons, that were no Reasons at all, and made me, as upon a 100 other Occasions, almost wish that Mankind had never been endow'd with a reasoning Faculty, since they know so little how to make use of it, and so often mislead themselves by it, and that they had been furnish'd with a good sensible Instinct instead of it.
At Dover, the next Morning, we embark'd for Calais with a Number of Passengers, who had never been before at sea. They would previously make a hearty Breakfast, because, if the Wind should fail, we might not get over till Supper time. Doubtless they thought that when they had paid for their Breakfast, they had a Right to it, and that, when they had swallowed it they were sure of it. But they had scarce been out half an Hour, before the Sea laid Claim to it, and they were oblig'd to deliver it up. So it seems there are Uncertainties, even beyond those between the Cup and the Lip. If ever you go to Sea, take my Advice, and live sparingly a Day or two beforehand. The Sickness, if any, will be lighter and sooner over. We got to Calais that Evening.
Various Impositions we suffer'd from Boatmen, Porters, &c. on both Sides the Water. I know not which are most rapacious, the English or French, but the latter have, with their Knavery, the most Politeness.
The Roads we found equally good with ours in England, in some Places pav'd with smooth Stone, like our new Streets, for many Miles together, and Rows of Trees on each Side, and yet there are no Turnpikes. But then the poor Peasants complain'd to us grievously, that they were oblig'd to work upon the Roads full two Months in the Year, without being paid for their Labour. Whether this is Truth, or whether, like Englishmen, they grumble Cause or no Cause, I have not yet been able fully to inform myself.
The Women we saw at Calais, on the Road, at Bouloigne, and in the Inns and Villages, were generally of dark Complexions; but arriving at Abbeville we found a sudden Change, a Multitude of both Women and Men in that Place appearing remarkably fair. Whether this is owing to a small Colony of Spinners, Wool-combers, and Weavers, brought hither from Holland with the Woollen Manufacture about 60 Years ago; or to their being less expos'd to the Sun, than in other Places, their Business keeping them much within Doors, I know not. Perhaps as in some other Cases, different Causes may club in producing the Effect, but the Effect itself is certain. Never was I in a Place of greater Industry, Wheels and Looms going in every House.
As soon as we left Abbeville, the Swarthiness return'd. I speak generally, for here are some fair Women at Paris, who I think are not whiten'd by Art. As to Rouge, they don't pretend to imitate Nature in laying it on. There is no gradual Diminution of the Colour, from the full Bloom in the Middle of the Cheek to the faint Tint near the Sides, nor does it show itself differently in different Faces. I have not had the Honour of being at any Lady's Toylette to see how it is laid on, but I fancy I can tell you how it is or may be done. Cut a Hole of 3 Inches Diameter in a Piece of Paper; place it on the Side of your Face in such a Manner as that the Top of the Hole may be just under your Eye; then with a Brush dipt in the Colour, paint Face and Paper together; so when the Paper is taken off there will remain a round Patch of Red exactly the Form of the Hole. This is the Mode, from the Actresses on the Stage upwards thro' all Ranks of Ladies to the Princesses of the Blood, but it stops there, the Queen not using it, having in the Serenity, Complacence, and Benignity that shine so eminently in, or rather through her Countenance, sufficient Beauty, tho' now an old Woman, to do extreamly well without it.
You see I speak of the Queen as if I had seen her, and so I have; for you must know I have been at Court. We went to Versailles last Sunday, and had the Honour of being presented to the King; he spoke to both of us very graciously and chearfully, is a handsome Man, has a very lively Look, and appears younger than he is. In the Evening we were at the _Grand Couvert_, where the Family sup in Publick. The Form of their Sitting at the Table was this: The table was as you see half a Hollow Square, the Service Gold. When either made a Sign for Drink, the Word was given by one of the Waiters; _A boire pour le Roy_, or, _A boire pour la Reine_. Then two persons within the Square approach'd, one with Wine[,] the other with Water in _Caraffes_; each drank a little Glass of what he brought, and then put both the _Caraffes_ with a Glass on a Salver, and presented it. Their Distance from each other was such, as that other Chairs might have been plac'd between any two of them. An Officer of the Court brought us up thro' the Crowd of Spectators, and plac'd Sir John so as to stand between the King and Madame Adelaide, and me between the Queen and Madame Victoire. The King talk'd a good deal to Sir John, asking many Questions about our Royal Family; and did me too the Honour of taking some Notice of me; that's saying enough, for I would not have you think me so much pleas'd with this King and Queen, as to have a Whit less regard than I us'd to have for ours. No Frenchman shall go beyond me in thinking my own King and Queen the very best in the World, and the most amiable.
Versailles has had infinite Sums laid out in building it and supplying it with Water. Some say the Expences exceeded 80 Millions Sterling. The Range of Building is immense; the Garden-Front most magnificent, all of hewn Stone; the Number of Statues, Figures, Urns, &c., in Marble and Bronze of exquisite Workmanship, is beyond Conception. But the Waterworks are out of Repair, and so is great Part of the Front next the Town, looking with its shabby half-Brick Walls, and broken Windows, not much better than the Houses in Durham Yard. There is, in short, both at Versailles and Paris, a prodigious Mixture of Magnificence and Negligence, with every kind of Elegance except that of Cleanliness, and what we call _Tidyness_. Tho' I must do Paris the Justice to say, that in two Points of Cleanliness they exceed us. The Water they drink, tho' from the River, they render as pure as that of the best Spring, by filtring it thro' Cisterns fill'd with Sand; and the Streets by constant Sweeping are fit to walk in, tho' there is no pav'd footPath. Accordingly, many well-dress'd People are constantly seen walking in them. The Crowds of Coaches and Chairs for this Reason is not so great. Men, as well as Women, carry Umbrellas in their Hands, which they extend in case of Rain or two [_sic_] much sun; and a Man with an Umbrella not taking up more than 3 foot square, or 9 square feet of the Street, when, if in a Coach, he would take up 240 square feet, you can easily conceive that tho' the Streets here are narrower they may be much less encumber'd. They are extreamly well pav'd, and the Stones, being generally Cubes, when worn on one Side, may be turn'd and become new.
The Civilities we everywhere receive give us the strongest Impressions of the French Politeness. It seems to be a Point settled here universally, that Strangers are to be treated with Respect; and one has just the same Deference shewn one here by being a Stranger, as in England by being a Lady. The Customhouse Officers at Port St. Denis, as we enter'd Paris, were about to seize 2 doz of excellent Bordeaux Wine given us at Boulogne, and which we brought with us; but, as soon as they found we were Strangers, it was immediately remitted on that Account. At the Church of Notre Dame, where we went to see a magnificent Illumination, with Figures, &c., for the deceas'd Dauphiness, we found an immense Crowd, who were kept out by Guards; but, the Officer being told that we were Strangers from England, he immediately admitted us, accompanied and show'd us every thing. Why don't we practise this Urbanity to Frenchmen? Why should they be allowed to outdo us in any thing?
Here is an Exhibition of Paintings like ours in London, to which Multitudes flock daily. I am not Connoisseur enough to judge which has most Merit. Every Night, Sundays not excepted here are Plays or Operas; and tho' the Weather has been hot, and the Houses full, one is not incommoded by the Heat so much as with us in Winter. They must have some Way of changing the Air, that we are not acquainted with. I shall enquire into it.
Travelling is one Way of lengthening Life, at least in Appearance. It is but about a Fortnight since we left London, but the Variety of Scenes we have gone through makes it seem equal to Six Months living in one Place. Perhaps I have suffered a greater Change, too, in my own Person, than I could have done in Six Years at home. I had not been here Six Days, before my Taylor and Perruquier had transform'd me into a Frenchman. Only think what a Figure I make in a little Bag-Wig and naked Ears! They told me I was become 20 Years younger, and look'd very galante;
So being in Paris where the Mode is to be sacredly follow'd I was once very near making Love to my Friend's Wife.
This Letter shall cost you a Shilling, and you may consider it cheap, when you reflect, that it has cost me at least 50 Guineas to get into the Situation, that enables me to write it. Besides, I might, if I had staied at home, have won perhaps two Shillings of you at Cribbidge. By the Way, now I mention Cards, let me tell you that Quadrille is quite out of Fashion here, and English Whisk all the Mode at Paris and the Court.
And pray look upon it as no small Matter, that surrounded as I am by the Glories of this World, and Amusements of all Sorts, I remember you and Dolly and all the dear good Folks at Bromley. 'Tis true, I can't help it, but must and ever shall remember you all with Pleasure.
Need I add, that I am particularly, my dear good Friend, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
ON THE LABOURING POOR
[From the _Gentleman's Magazine_, April, 1768.]
SIR,
I have met with much invective in the papers, for these two years past, against the hard-heartedness of the rich, and much complaint of the great oppressions suffered in this country by the labouring poor. Will you admit a word or two on the other side of the question? I do not propose to be an advocate for oppression or oppressors. But when I see that the poor are, by such writings, exasperated against the rich, and excited to insurrections, by which much mischief is done, and some forfeit their lives, I could wish the true state of things were better understood, the poor not made by these busy writers more uneasy and unhappy than their situation subjects them to be, and the nation not brought into disrepute among foreigners, by public groundless accusations of ourselves, as if the rich in England had no compassion for the poor, and Englishmen wanted common humanity.
In justice, then to this country, give me leave to remark, that the condition of the poor here is, by far, the best in Europe, for that, except in England and her American colonies, there is not in any country of the known world, not even in Scotland or Ireland, a provision by law to enforce a support of the poor. Everywhere else necessity reduces to beggary. This law was not made by the poor. The legislators were men of fortune. By that act they voluntarily subjected their own estates, and the estates of all others, to the payment of a tax for the maintenance of the poor, incumbering those estates with a kind of rent-charge for that purpose, whereby the poor are vested with an inheritance, as it were, in all the estates of the rich. I wish they were benefited by this generous provision in any degree equal to the good intention, with which it was made, and is continued: But I fear the giving mankind a dependance on any thing for support, in age or sickness, besides industry and frugality during youth and health, tends to flatter our natural indolence, to encourage idleness and prodigality, and thereby to promote and increase poverty, the very evil it was intended to cure; thus multiplying beggars instead of diminishing them.
Besides this tax, which the rich in England have subjected themselves to, in behalf of the poor, amounting in some places to five or six shillings in the pound, of the annual income, they have, by donations and subscriptions, erected numerous schools in various parts of the kingdom, for educating gratis the children of the poor in reading and writing, and in many of those schools the children are also fed and cloathed. They have erected hospitals at an immense expence for the reception and cure of the sick, the lame, the wounded, and the insane poor, for lying-in women, and deserted children. They are also continually contributing towards making up losses occasioned by fire, by storms, or by floods, and to relieve the poor in severe seasons of frost, in times of scarcity, &c., in which benevolent and charitable contributions no nation exceeds us. Surely, there is some gratitude due for so many instances of goodness.
Add to this all the laws made to discourage foreign manufactures, by laying heavy duties on them, or totally prohibiting them, whereby the rich are obliged to pay much higher prices for what they wear and consume, than if the trade was open: These are so many laws for the support of our labouring poor, made by the rich, and continued at their expence; all the difference of price, between our own and foreign commodities, being so much given by our rich to our poor; who would indeed be enabled by it to get by degrees above poverty, if they did not, as too generally they do, consider every encrease of wages, only as something that enables them to drink more and work less; so that their distress in sickness, age, or times of scarcity, continues to be the same as if such laws had never been made in their favour.
Much malignant censure have some writers bestowed upon the rich for their luxury and expensive living, while the poor are starving, &c.; not considering that what the rich expend, the labouring poor receive in payment for their labour. It may seem a paradox if I should assert, that our labouring poor do in every year receive _the whole revenue of the nation_; I mean not only the public revenue, but also the revenue or clear income of all private estates, or a sum equivalent to the whole.
In support of this position I reason thus. The rich do not work for one another. Their habitations, furniture, cloathing, carriages, food, ornaments, and every thing in short, that they or their families use and consume, is the work or produce of the labouring poor, who are, and must be continually, paid for their labour in producing the same. In these payments the revenues of private estates are expended, for most people live up to their incomes. In cloathing or provision for troops, in arms, ammunition, ships, tents, carriages, &c., &c., (every particular the produce of labour,) much of the public revenue is expended. The pay of officers, civil and military, and of the private soldiers and sailors, requires the rest; and they spend that also in paying for what is produced by the labouring poor.
I allow that some estates may increase by the owners spending less than their income; but then I conceive that other estates do at the same time diminish by the owners spending more than their income, so that when the enriched want to buy more land, they easily find lands in the hands of the impoverished, whose necessities oblige them to sell; and thus this difference is equalled. I allow also, that part of the expence of the rich is in foreign produce or manufactures, for producing which the labouring poor of other nations must be paid; but then I say, we must first pay our own labouring poor for an equal quantity of our manufactures or produce, to exchange for those foreign productions, or we must pay for them in money, which money, not being the natural produce of our country, must first be purchased from abroad, by sending out its value in the produce or manufactures of this country, for which manufactures our labouring poor are to be paid. And indeed, if we did not export more than we import, we could have no money at all. I allow farther, that there are middle men, who make a profit, and even get estates, by purchasing the labour of the poor, and selling it at advanced prices to the rich; but then they cannot enjoy that profit, or the income of estates, but by spending them in employing and paying our labouring poor, in some shape or other, for the products of industry. Even beggars, pensioners, hospitals, and all that are supported by charity, spend their incomes in the same manner. So that finally, as I said at first, _our labouring poor receive annually the whole of the clear revenues of the nation_, and from us they can have no more.
If it be said that their wages are too low, and that they ought to be better paid for their labour, I heartily wish any means could be fallen upon to do it, consistent with their interest and happiness; but, as the cheapness of other things is owing to the plenty of those things, so the cheapness of labour is in most cases owing to the multitude of labourers, and to their under-working one another in order to obtain employment. How is this to be remedied? A law might be made to raise their wages; but, if our manufactures are too dear, they will not vend abroad, and all that part of employment will fail, unless by fighting and conquering we compel other nations to buy our goods, whether they will or no, which some have been mad enough at times to propose.
Among ourselves, unless we give our working people less employment, how can we, for what they do, pay them higher than we do? Out of what fund is the additional price of labour to be paid, when all our present incomes are, as it were, mortgaged to them? Should they get higher wages, would that make them less poor, if, in consequence, they worked fewer days of the week proportionably? I have said, a law might be made to raise their wages; but I doubt much whether it could be executed to any purpose, unless another law, now indeed almost obsolete, could at the same time be revived and enforced; a law, I mean, that many have often heard and repeated, but few have ever duly considered. SIX _days shalt thou labour_. This is as positive a part of the commandment, as that which says, _The_ SEVENTH _day thou shalt rest_. But we remember well to observe the indulgent part, and never think of the other. _Saint Monday_ is generally as duly kept by our working people as _Sunday_; the only difference is, that, instead of employing their time cheaply at church, they are wasting it expensively at the alehouse.
I am, Sir, &c. MEDIUS.
TO DUPONT DE NEMOURS[74]
London, July 28, 1768.
I received your obliging letter of the 10th May, with the most acceptable present of your _Physiocratie_, which I have read with great pleasure, and received from it a great deal of instruction. There is such a freedom from local and national prejudices and partialities, so much benevolence to mankind in general, so much goodness mixt with the wisdom, in the principles of your new philosophy, that I am perfectly charmed with them, and wish I could have stayed in France for some time, to have studied in your school, that I might by conversing with its founders have made myself quite a master of that philosophy.... I had, before I went into your country, seen some letters of yours to Dr. Templeman, that gave me a high opinion of the doctrines you are engaged in cultivating and of your personal talents and abilities, which made me greatly desirous of seeing you. Since I had not that good fortune, the next best thing is the advantage you are so good to offer me of your correspondence, which I shall ever highly value, and endeavour to cultivate with all the diligence I am capable of.
I am sorry to find that that wisdom which sees the welfare of the parts in the prosperity of the whole, seems yet not to be known in this country.... We are so far from conceiving that what is best for mankind, or even for Europe in general, may be best for us, that we are even studying to establish and extend a separate interest of Britain, to the prejudice of even Ireland and our colonies.... It is from your philosophy only that the maxims of a contrary and more happy conduct are to be drawn, which I therefore sincerely wish may grow and increase till it becomes the governing philosophy of the human species, as it must be that of superior beings in better worlds. I will take the liberty of sending you a little fragment that has some tincture of it, which, on that account, I hope may be acceptable.
Be so good as to present my sincere respect to that venerable apostle, Dr. Quesnay, and to the illustrious Ami des Hommes (of whose civilities to me at Paris I retain a grateful remembrance), and believe me to be, with real and very great esteem Sir,
Your obliged and most obedient humble servant B. FRANKLIN.
TO JOHN ALLEYNE[75]
Craven Street, [August 9, 1768].
DEAR SIR
You made an Apology to me for not acquaint^g me sooner with your Marriage. I ought now to make an Apology to you for delaying so long the Answer to your Letter. It was mislaid or hid among my Papers and much Business put it out of my Mind, or prevented my looking for it and writing when I thought of it. So this Account between us if you please may stand balanced. I assure you it gave me great Pleasure to hear you were married, and into a Family of Reputation. This I learnt from the Public Papers. The Character you give me of your Bride (as it includes every Qualification that in the married State conduces to mutual Happiness) is an Addition to that Pleasure. Had you consulted me, as a Friend, on the Occasion, Youth on both sides I should not have thought any Objection. Indeed, from the matches that have fallen under my Observation, I am rather inclin'd to think, that early ones stand the best Chance for Happiness. The Tempers and habits of young People 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, that is necessary to conduct 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 form'd to regular and useful Life; and possibly some of those Accidents, Habits or Connections, that might have injured either the Constitution, or the Reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented.
Particular Circumstances of particular Persons may possibly sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into that State; but in general, when Nature has render'd our Bodies fit for it, the Presumption is in Nature's Favour, that she has not judg'd amiss in making us desire it. Late Marriages are often attended, too, with this further Inconvenience, that there is not the same Chance the parents shall live to see their offspring educated. "_Late Children_," says the Spanish Proverb, "_are early Orphans_." A melancholy Reflection to those, whose Case it may be! With us in America, Marriages 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 Evening of chearful Leisure to ourselves; such as your Friend at present enjoys. By these early Marriages we are blest with more Children; and from the Mode among us, founded in Nature, of every Mother suckling and nursing her own Child, more of them are raised. Thence the swift Progress of Population among us, unparallel'd in Europe.
In fine, I am glad you are married, and congratulate you most cordially upon it. You are now more in the way of becoming a useful Citizen; and you have escap'd the unnatural State of Celibacy for Life, the Fate of many here, who never intended it, but who, having too long postpon'd the Change of their Condition, find at length, that 'tis 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 you know is not worth its proportion of the Set, and what think you of the Usefulness of an odd Half of a Pair of Scissors? It cannot well cut any thing. It may possibly serve to scrape a Trencher.
Pray make my Compliments and best Wishes acceptable to your Spouse. I am old and heavy and grow a little indolent, 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 from her only but from all that observe it. Never use a slighting Expression to her, even in jest, for Slights in Jest, after frequent bandyings, are apt to end in angry earnest. Be studious in your Profession, and you will be learned. Be industrious and frugal, and you 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 Consequences. I pray God to bless you both; being ever your affectionate Friend,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO THE PRINTER OF THE LONDON CHRONICLE[76]
August 18, 1768.
QUERIES, _recommended to the Consideration of those Gentlemen who are for vigorous measures with the Americans._
1. Have the Colonists _refused_ to answer any reasonable requisitions made to their _Assemblies_ by the mother country?
2. If they have _not refused_ to grant reasonable aids in the way, which they think consistent with _liberty_, why must they be stripped of their property without their own _consent_, and in a way, which they think _inconsistent_ with liberty?
3. What is it for a people to be _enslaved_ and _tributary_, if this be not, viz. to be _forced_ to give up their property at the arbitrary pleasure of persons, to whose authority they have not _submitted_ themselves, nor _chosen_ for the purpose of imposing taxes upon them? Wherein consisted the impropriety of King Charles's demanding ship money by his sole authority, but in its being an exercise of power by the King, which the people had not _given_ the King? Have the people of America, as the people of Britain, by sending representatives, _consented_ to a power in the British parliament to tax them?
4. Has not the British parliament, by repealing the stamp act, acknowledged that they judged it _improper_? Is there any difference between the stamp act, and the act obliging the Americans to pay _whatever we please_, for articles which they _cannot do without_, as glass and paper? Is there any difference as to justice between our treatment of the colonists, and the tyranny of the Carthaginians over their conquered Sardinians, when they obliged them to take all their corn from them, and at whatever price they pleased to set upon it?
5. If that be true, what is commonly said, viz. That the mother country gains _two millions_ a year by the colonies, would it not have been wiser to have gone on quietly in the _happy way_ we were in, till our gains by those rising and flourishing countries should amount to _three_, _four_ or _five_ millions a year, than by these new fashioned vigorous measures to kill the goose which lays the golden eggs? Would it not have been better policy, instead of _taxing_ our colonists, to have done whatever we could to _enrich_ them; and encourage them to take off our articles of _luxury_, on which we may put our own price, and thus draw them into paying us a _voluntary_ tax; than deluge them in blood, thin their countries, impoverish and distress them, interrupt their commerce, force them on bankruptcy, by which our merchants must be ruined, or tempt them to emigrations, or alliances with our enemies?
6. The late war could not have been _carried on_ without America, nor without Scotland? Have we treated America and Scotland in such a manner as is likely in future wars to encourage their zeal for the common cause? Or is England alone to be the Drawcansir of the world, and to bully not only their enemies, but her _friends_?
7. Are not the subjects of Britain concerned to check a ministry, who, by this rage of heaping taxes on taxes, are only drawing into their own hands more and more wealth and power, while they are hurting the _commercial_ interest of the empire in general, at the same time that, amidst profound _peace_, the national debt and burden on the public continue undiminished?
N. M. C. N. P. C. H.
POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED, CONCERNING NATIONAL WEALTH
Dated April 4, 1769.
1. All food or subsistence for mankind arises from the earth or waters.
2. Necessaries of life, that are not food, and all other conveniences, have their values estimated by 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 labour than that of gathering the vegetables and catching the animals.
4. A large people, with a small territory, finds these insufficient, and, to subsist, must labour the earth, to make it produce greater quantities of vegetable food, suitable for the nourishment of men, and of the animals they intend to eat.
5. From this labour 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 labour employed in building our houses, cities, &c., which are therefore only subsistence thus metamorphosed.
6. _Manufactures_ are only _another shape_ into which so much provisions and subsistence are turned, as were equal in value to the manufactures produced. This appears from hence, that the manufacturer does not, in fact, obtain from the employer, for his labour, _more_ than a mere subsistence, including raiment, fuel, and shelter; all which derive their value from the provisions consumed in procuring them.
7. The produce of the earth, thus converted into manufactures, may be more easily carried to 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 labour 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 bushel of wheat, A and B meeting at half distance with their commodities 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 labour and expense of producing both commodities 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 advantage of ignorance.
10. Thus, he that carries one 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 subsisting therewith the workmen while producing those manufactures; since there are many expediting and facilitating methods of working, not generally known; and strangers to the manufactures, though they know pretty well the expense of raising wheat, are unacquainted with those short methods of working, and, thence being apt to suppose more labour employed in the manufactures 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 country does not consist, as is commonly supposed, in their highly advancing the value of rough materials, of which they are formed; since, though six pennyworth 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 their shape provisions may be more easily carried to a foreign market; and, by their means, our traders may more easily cheat strangers. Few, where it is not made, are judges of the value of lace. The importer may demand forty, and perhaps get thirty, shillings for that which cost him but twenty.
12. Finally, there seem to be but three ways for a nation to acquire wealth. The first is by _war_, as the Romans did, in plundering their conquered neighbours. This is _robbery_. The second by _commerce_, which is generally _cheating_. 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 favour, as a reward for his innocent life and his virtuous industry.
TO MISS MARY STEVENSON
Saturday Evening, Sept^r 2, 1769.
Just come home from a Venison Feast, where I have drank more than a Philosopher ought, I find my dear Polly's chearful, chatty Letter that exhilerates me more than all the Wine.
Your good Mother says there is no Occasion for any Intercession of mine in your behalf. She is sensible that she is more in fault than her Daughter. She received an affectionate, tender Letter from you, and she has not answered it, tho' she intended to do it; but her Head, not her Heart, has been bad, and unfitted her for Writing. She owns, that she is not so good a Subject as you are, and that she is more unwilling to pay Tribute to Cesar, and has less Objection to Smuggling; but 'tis not, she says, mere Selfishness or Avarice; 'tis rather an honest Resentment at the Waste of those Taxes in Pensions, Salaries, Perquisites, Contracts, and other Emoluments for the Benefit of People she does not love, and who do not deserve such Advantages, because--I suppose--because they are not of her Party.
Present my Respects to your good Landlord and his Family. I honour them for their conscientious Aversion to illicit Trading. There are those in the World, who would not wrong a Neighbour, but make no Scruple of cheating the King. The Reverse, however, does not hold; for whoever scruples cheating the King, will certainly not wrong his Neighbour.
You ought not to wish yourself an Enthusiast. They have, indeed, their imaginary Satisfactions and Pleasures, but these are often ballanc'd by imaginary Pains and Mortifications. You can continue to be a good Girl, and thereby lay a solid Foundation for expected future Happiness, without the Enthusiasm that may perhaps be necessary to some others. As those Beings, who have a good sensible Instinct, have no need of Reason, so those, who have Reason to regulate their Actions, have no Occasion for Enthusiasm. However, there are certain Circumstances in Life, sometimes, wherein 'tis perhaps best not to hearken to Reason. For instance; possibly, if the Truth were known, I have Reason to be jealous of this same insinuating, handsome young Physician;[77] but, as it flatters more my Vanity, and therefore gives me more Pleasure, to suppose you were in Spirits on acc^t of my safe Return, I shall turn a deaf Ear to Reason in this Case, as I have done with Success in twenty others. But I am sure you will always give me Reason enough to continue ever your affectionate Friend,
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. Our Love to Mrs. Tickell. We all long for your Return. Your Dolly was well last Tuesday; the Girls were there on a Visit to her; I mean at Bromley. Adieu. No time now to give you any acc^t of my French Journey.
TO JOSEPH PRIESTLEY
London, Sept. 19: 1772.
DEAR SIR,
In the Affair of so much Importance to you, wherein you ask my Advice, I cannot for want of sufficient Premises, advise you _what_ to determine, but if you please I will tell you _how_. When those difficult Cases occur, they are difficult, chiefly because while we have them under Consideration, all the Reasons _pro_ and _con_ are not present to the Mind at the same time; but sometimes one Set present themselves, and at other times another, the first being out of Sight. Hence the various Purposes or Inclinations that alternately prevail, and the Uncertainty that perplexes us.
To get over this, my Way is, to divide half a Sheet of Paper by a Line into two Columns; writing over the one _Pro_, and over the other _Con_. Then during three or four Days Consideration, I put down under the different Heads short Hints of the different Motives, that at different Times occur to me, _for_ or _against_ the Measure. When I have thus got them all together in one View, I endeavour to estimate their respective Weights; and where I find two, one on each side, that seem equal, I strike them both out. If I find a Reason _pro_ equal to some two Reasons _con_, I strike out the three. If I judge some two Reasons _con_, equal to some three Reasons _pro_, I strike out the five; and thus proceeding I find at length where the Ballance lies; and if after a Day or two of farther Consideration, nothing new that is of Importance occurs on either side, I come to a Determination accordingly. And, tho' the Weight of Reasons cannot be taken with the Precision of Algebraic Quantities, yet, when each is thus considered, separately and comparatively, and the whole lies before me, I think I can judge better, and am less liable to make a rash Step; and in fact I have found great Advantage from this kind of Equation, in what may be called _Moral_ or _Prudential Algebra_.
Wishing sincerely that you may determine for the best, I am ever, my dear Friend, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO MISS GEORGIANA SHIPLEY[78]
London, September 26, 1772.
DEAR MISS,
I lament with you most sincerely the unfortunate end of poor MUNGO. Few squirrels were better accomplished; for he had had a good education, had travelled far, and seen much of the world. As he had the honour of being, for his virtues, your favourite, he should not go, like common skuggs, without an elegy or an epitaph. Let us give him one in the monumental style and measure, which, being neither prose nor verse, is perhaps the properest for grief; since to use common language would look as if we were not affected, and to make rhymes would seem trifling in sorrow.
EPITAPH.
Alas! poor MUNGO! Happy wert thou, hadst thou known Thy own felicity. Remote from the fierce bald eagle, Tyrant of thy native woods, Thou hadst nought to fear from his piercing talons, Nor from the murdering gun Of the thoughtless sportsman. Safe in thy wired castle, GRIMALKIN never could annoy thee. Daily wert thou fed with the choicest viands, By the fair hand of an indulgent mistress; But, discontented, Thou wouldst have more freedom.
Too soon, alas! didst thou obtain it; And wandering, Thou art fallen by the fangs of wanton, cruel RANGER!
Learn hence, Ye who blindly seek more liberty, Whether subjects, sons, squirrels or daughters, That apparent restraint may be real protection; Yielding peace and plenty With security.
You see, my dear Miss, how much more decent and proper this broken style is, than if we were to say, by way of epitaph,
Here SKUGG Lies snug, As a bug In a rug.
and yet, perhaps, there are people in the world of so little feeling as to think that this would be a good-enough epitaph for poor Mungo.
If you wish it, I shall procure another to succeed him; but perhaps you will now choose some other amusement.
Remember me affectionately to all the good family, and believe me ever,
Your affectionate friend, B. FRANKLIN.
TO PETER FRANKLIN
[No date.][79]
DEAR BROTHER,
I like your ballad, and think it well adapted for your purpose of discountenancing expensive foppery, and encouraging industry and frugality. If you can get it generally sung in your country, it may probably have a good deal of the effect you hope and expect from it. But as you aimed at making it general, I wonder you chose so uncommon a measure in poetry, that none of the tunes in common use will suit it. Had you fitted it to an old one, well known, it must have spread much faster than I doubt it will do from the best new tune we can get compos'd for it. I think too, that if you had given it to some country girl in the heart of the _Massachusetts_, who has never heard any other than psalm tunes, or _Chevy Chace_, the _Children in the Wood_, the _Spanish Lady_, and such old simple ditties, but has naturally a good ear, she might more probably have made a pleasing popular tune for you, than any of our masters here, and more proper for your purpose, which would best be answered, if every word could as it is sung be understood by all that hear it, and if the emphasis you intend for particular words could be given by the singer as well as by the reader; much of the force and impression of the song depending on those circumstances. I will however get it as well done for you as I can.
Do not imagine that I mean to depreciate the skill of our composers of music here; they are admirable at pleasing _practised_ ears, and know how to delight _one another_; but, in composing for songs, the reigning taste seems to be quite out of nature, or rather the reverse of nature, and yet like a torrent, hurries them all away with it; one or two perhaps only excepted.
You, in the spirit of some ancient legislators, would influence the manners of your country by the united powers of poetry and music. By what I can learn of _their_ songs, the music was simple, conformed itself to the usual pronunciation of words, as to measure, cadence or emphasis, &c., never disguised and confounded the language by making a long syllable short, or a short one long, when sung; their singing was only a more pleasing, because a melodious manner of speaking; it was capable of all the graces of prose oratory, while it added the pleasure of harmony. A modern song, on the contrary, neglects all the proprieties and beauties of common speech, and in their place introduces its _defects_ and _absurdities_ as so many graces. I am afraid you will hardly take my word for this, and therefore I must endeavour to support it by proof. Here is the first song I lay my hand on. It happens to be a composition of one of our greatest masters, the ever-famous _Handel_. It is not one of his juvenile performances, before his taste could be improved and formed: It appeared when his reputation was at the highest, is greatly admired by all his admirers, and is really excellent in its kind. It is called, "_The additional_ Favourite _Song in_ Judas Maccabeus." Now I reckon among the defects and improprieties of common speech, the following, viz.
1. _Wrong placing the accent or emphasis_, by laying it on words of no importance, or on wrong syllables.
2. _Drawling_; or extending the sound of words or syllables beyond their natural length.
3. _Stuttering_; or making many syllables of one.
4. _Unintelligibleness_; the result of the three foregoing united.
5. _Tautology_; and
6. _Screaming_, without cause.
For the _wrong placing of the accent, or emphasis_, see it on the word _their_ instead of being on the word _vain_.
And on the word _from_, and the wrong syllable _like_.
For the _drawling_, see the last syllable of the word _wounded_. And in the syllable _wis_, and the word _from_, and syllable _bove_.
For the _stuttering_, see the words _ne'er relieve_, in
Here are four syllables made of one, and eight of three; but this is moderate. I have seen in another song, that I cannot now find, seventeen syllables made of three, and sixteen of one. The latter I remember was the word _charms_; viz. _cha, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, a, arms_. Stammering with a witness!
For the _unintelligibleness_; give this whole song to any taught singer, and let her sing it to any company that have never heard it; you shall find they will not understand three words in ten. It is therefore that at the oratorios and operas one sees with books in their hands all those who desire to understand what they hear sung by even our best performers.
For the _Tautology_; you have, _with their vain mysterious art_, twice repeated; _magic charms can ne'er relieve you_, three times. _Nor can heal the wounded heart_, three times. _Godlike wisdom from above_, twice; and, _this alone can ne'er deceive you_, two or three times. But this is reasonable when compared with _the Monster Polypheme, the Monster Polypheme_, a hundred times over and over, in his admired _Acis and Galatea_.
As to the _screaming_, perhaps I cannot find a fair instance in this song; but whoever has frequented our operas will remember many. And yet here methinks the words _no_ and _e'er_, when sung to these notes, have a little of the air of _screaming_, and would actually be screamed by some singers.
I send you inclosed the song with its music at length. Read the words without the repetitions. Observe how few they are, and what a shower of notes attend them: You will then perhaps be inclined to think with me, that though the words might be the principal part of an ancient song, they are of small importance in a modern one; they are in short only a _pretence for singing_.
I am, as ever, Your affectionate brother, B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. I might have mentioned _inarticulation_ among the defects in common speech that are assumed as beauties in modern singing. But as that seems more the fault of the singer than of the composer, I omitted it in what related merely to the composition. The fine singer, in the present mode, stifles all the hard consonants, and polishes away all the rougher parts of words that serve to distinguish them one from another; so that you hear nothing but an admirable pipe, and understand no more of the song, than you would from its tune played on any other instrument. If ever it was the ambition of musicians to make instruments that should imitate the human voice, that ambition seems now reversed, the voice aiming to be like an instrument. Thus wigs were first made to imitate a good natural head of hair; but when they became fashionable, though in unnatural forms, we have seen natural hair dressed to look like wigs.
ON THE PRICE OF CORN, AND MANAGEMENT OF THE POOR[80]
TO THE PUBLIC
I am one of that class of people, that feeds you all, and at present is abused by you all; in short I am a _farmer_.
By your newspapers we are told, that God had sent a very short harvest to some other countries of Europe. I thought this might be in favour of Old England; and that now we should get a good price for our grain, which would bring millions among us, and make us flow in money; that to be sure is scarce enough.
But the wisdom of government forbade the exportation.
"Well," says I, "then we must be content with the market price at home."
"No;" say my lords the mob, "you sha'nt have that. Bring your corn to market if you dare; we'll sell it for you for less money, or take it for nothing."
Being thus attacked by both ends _of the constitution_, the head and tail _of government_, what am I to do?
Must I keep my corn in the barn, to feed and increase the breed of rats? Be it so; they cannot be less thankful than those I have been used to feed.
Are we farmers the only people to be grudged the profits of our honest labour? And why? One of the late scribblers against us gives a bill of fare of the provisions at my daughter's wedding, and proclaims to all the world, that we had the insolence to eat beef and pudding! Has he not read the precept in the good Book, _Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn_; or does he think us less worthy of good living than our oxen?
"O, but the manufacturers! the manufacturers! they are to be favoured, and they must have bread at a cheap rate!"
Hark ye, Mr. Oaf, the farmers live spendidly, you say. And pray, would you have them hoard the money they get? Their fine clothes and furniture, do they make them themselves, or for one another, and so keep the money among them? Or do they employ these your darling manufacturers, and so scatter it again all over the nation?
The wool would produce me a better price, if it were suffered to go to foreign markets; but that, Messieurs the Public, your laws will not permit. It must be kept all at home, that our _dear_ manufacturers may have it the cheaper. And then, having yourselves thus lessened our encouragement for raising sheep, you curse us for the scarcity of mutton!
I have heard my grandfather say, that the farmers submitted to the prohibition on the exportation of wool, being made to expect and believe, that, when the manufacturer bought his wool cheaper, they should also have their cloth cheaper. But the deuce a bit. It has been growing dearer and dearer from that day to this. How so? Why, truly, the cloth is exported; and that keeps up the price.
Now, if it be a good principle, that the exportation of a commodity is to be restrained, that so our people at home may have it the cheaper, stick to that principle, and go thorough-stitch with it. Prohibit the exportation of your cloth, your leather, and shoes, your iron ware, and your manufactures of all sorts, to make them all cheaper at home. And cheap enough they will be, I will warrant you; till people leave off making them.
Some folks seem to think they ought never to be easy till England becomes another Lubberland, where it is fancied that streets are paved with penny-rolls, the houses tiled with pancakes, and chickens, ready roasted, cry, "Come eat me."
I say, when you are sure you have got a good principle, stick to it, and carry it through. I hear it is said, that though it was _necessary and right_ for the ministry to advise a prohibition of the exportation of corn, yet it was _contrary to law_; and also, that though it was _contrary to law_ for the mob to obstruct wagons, yet it was _necessary and right_. Just the same thing to a tittle. Now they tell me, an act of indemnity ought to pass in favour of the ministry, to secure them from the consequences of having acted illegally. If so, pass another in favour of the mob. Others say, some of the mob ought to be hanged, by way of example. If so,--but I say no more than I have said before, _when you are sure that you have a good principle, go through with it_.
You say, poor labourers cannot afford to buy bread at a high price, unless they had higher wages. Possibly. But how shall we farmers be able to afford our labourers higher wages, if you will not allow us to get, when we might have it, a higher price for our corn?
By all that I can learn, we should at least have had a guinea a quarter more, if the exportation had been allowed. And this money England would have got from foreigners.
But, it seems, we farmers must take so much less, that the poor may have it so much cheaper.
This operates, then, as a tax for the maintenance of the poor. A very good thing you will say. But I ask, Why a partial tax? why laid on us farmers only? If it be a good thing, pray, Messieurs the Public, take your share of it, by indemnifying us a little out of your public treasury. In doing a good thing, there is both honour and pleasure; you are welcome to your share of both.
For my own part, I am not so well satisfied of the goodness of this thing. I am for doing good to the poor, but I differ in opinion about the means. I think the best way of doing good to the poor, is, not making them easy _in_ poverty, but leading or driving them _out_ of it. In my youth, I travelled much, and I observed in different countries, that the more public provisions were made for the poor, the less they provided for themselves, and of course became poorer. And, on the contrary, the less was done for them, the more they did for themselves, and became richer. There is no country in the world where so many provisions are established for them; so many hospitals to receive them when they are sick or lame, founded and maintained by voluntary charities; so many almshouses for the aged of both sexes, together with a solemn general law made by the rich to subject their estates to a heavy tax for the support of the poor. Under all these obligations, are our poor modest, humble, and thankful? And do they use their best endeavours to maintain themselves, and lighten our shoulders of this burthen? On the contrary, I affirm, that there is no country in the world in which the poor are more idle, dissolute, drunken, and insolent. The day you passed that act, you took away from before their eyes the greatest of all inducements to industry, frugality, and sobriety, by giving them a dependence on somewhat else than a careful accumulation during youth and health, for support in age or sickness.
In short, you offered a premium for the encouragement of idleness, and you should not now wonder, that it has had its effect in the increase of poverty. Repeal that law, and you will soon see a change in their manners. _Saint Monday_ and _Saint Tuesday_ will soon cease to be holidays. SIX _days shalt thou labour_, though one of the old commandments long treated as out of date, will again be looked upon as a respectable precept; industry will increase, and with it plenty among the lower people; their circumstances will mend, and more will be done for their happiness by inuring them to provide for themselves, than could be done by dividing all your estates among them.
Excuse me, Messieurs the Public, if, upon this _interesting_ subject, I put you to the trouble of reading a little of _my_ nonsense. I am sure I have lately read a great deal of _yours_, and therefore from you (at least from those of you who are writers) I deserve a little indulgence.
I am yours, &c. ARATOR.
AN EDICT BY THE KING OF PRUSSIA[81]
[From the _Gentleman's Magazine_, October, 1773.]
Dantzic, Sept. 5, [1773].
We have long wondered here at the supineness of the English nation, under the Prussian impositions upon its trade entering our port. We did not, till lately, know the claims, ancient and modern, that hang over that nation; and therefore could not suspect that it might submit to those impositions from a sense of duty or from principles of equity. The following Edict, just made publick, may, if serious, throw some light upon this matter.
"FREDERIC, by the grace of God, King of Prussia, &c., &c., &c., to all present and to come, (_à tous présens et à venir_,) Health. The peace now enjoyed throughout our dominions, having afforded us leisure to apply ourselves to the regulation of commerce, the improvement of our finances, and at the same time the easing our domestic subjects in their taxes: For these causes, and other good considerations us thereunto moving, we hereby make known, that, after having deliberated these affairs in our council, present our dear brothers, and other great officers of the state, members of the same, we, of our certain knowledge, full power, and authority royal, have made and issued this present Edict, viz.
"Whereas it is well known to all the world, that the first German settlements made in the Island of Britain, were by colonies of people, subject to our renowned ducal ancestors, and drawn from their dominions, under the conduct of Hengist, Horsa, Hella, Uff, Cerdicus, Ida, and others; and that the said colonies have nourished under the protection of our august house for ages past; have never been emancipated therefrom; and yet have hitherto yielded little profit to the same: And whereas we ourself have in the last war fought for and defended the said colonies, against the power of France, and thereby enabled them to make conquests from the said power in America, for which we have not yet received adequate compensation: And whereas it is just and expedient that a revenue should be raised from the said colonies in Britain, towards our indemnification; and that those who are descendants of our ancient subjects, and thence still owe us due obedience, should contribute to the replenishing of our royal coffers as they must have done, had their ancestors remained in the territories now to us appertaining: We do therefore hereby ordain, and command, that, from and after the date of these presents, there shall be levied and paid to our officers of the _customs_, on all goods, wares, and merchandizes, and on all grain and other produce of the earth, exported from the said Island of Britain, and on all goods of whatever kind imported into the same, a duty of four and a half per cent _ad valorem_, for the use of us and our successors. And that the said duty may more effectually be collected, we do hereby ordain, that all ships or vessels bound from Great Britain to any other part of the world, or from any other part of the world to Great Britain, shall in their respective voyages touch at our port of Koningsberg, there to be unladen, searched, and charged with the said duties.
"And whereas there hath been from time to time discovered in the said island of Great Britain, by our colonists there, many mines or beds of iron-stone; and sundry subjects, of our ancient dominion, skilful in converting the said stone into metal, have in time past transported themselves thither, carrying with them and communicating that art; and the inhabitants of the said island, presuming that they had a natural right to make the best use they could of the natural productions of their country for their own benefit, have not only built furnaces for smelting the said stone into iron, but have erected plating-forges, slitting-mills, and steel-furnaces, for the more convenient manufacturing of the same; thereby endangering a diminution of the said manufacture in our ancient dominion;--we do therefore hereby farther ordain, that, from and after the date hereof, no mill or other engine for slitting or rolling of iron, or any plating-forge to work with a tilt-hammer, or any furnace for making steel, shall be erected or continued in the said island of Great Britain: And the Lord Lieutenant of every county in the said island is hereby commanded, on information of any such erection within his county, to order and by force to cause the same to be abated and destroyed; as he shall answer the neglect thereof to us at his peril. But we are nevertheless graciously pleased to permit the inhabitants of the said island to transport their iron into Prussia, there to be manufactured, and to them returned; they paying our Prussian subjects for the workmanship, with all the costs of commission, freight, and risk, coming and returning; any thing herein contained to the contrary notwithstanding.
"We do not, however, think fit to extend this our indulgence to the article of wool; but, meaning to encourage, not only the manufacturing of woollen cloth, but also the raising of wool, in our ancient dominions, and to prevent both, as much as may be, in our said island, we do hereby absolutely forbid the transportation of wool from thence, even to the mother country, Prussia; and that those islanders may be farther and more effectually restrained in making any advantage of their own wool in the way of manufacture, we command that none shall be carried out of one county into another; nor shall any worsted, bay, or woollen yarn, cloth, says, bays, kerseys, serges, frizes, druggets, cloth-serges, shalloons, or any other drapery stuffs, or woollen manufactures whatsoever, made up or mixed with wool in any of the said counties, be carried into any other county, or be waterborne even across the smallest river or creek, on penalty of forfeiture of the same, together with the boats, carriages, horses, &c., that shall be employed in removing them. Nevertheless, our loving subjects there are hereby permitted (if they think proper) to use all their wool as manure for the improvement of their lands.
"And whereas the art and mystery of making hats hath arrived at great perfection in Prussia, and the making of hats by our remoter subjects ought to be as much as possible restrained: And forasmuch as the islanders before mentioned, being in possession of wool, beaver and other furs, have presumptuously conceived they had a right to make some advantage thereof, by manufacturing the same into hats, to the prejudice of our domestic manufacture: We do therefore hereby strictly command and ordain, that no hats or felts whatsoever, dyed or undyed, finished or unfinished, shall be loaded or put into or upon any vessel, cart, carriage, or horse, to be transported or conveyed out of one county in the said island into another county, or to any other place whatsoever, by any person or persons whatsoever; on pain of forfeiting the same, with a penalty of five hundred pounds sterling for every offence. Nor shall any hat-maker, in any of the said counties, employ more than two apprentices, on penalty of five pounds sterling per month; we intending hereby, that such hatmakers, being so restrained, both in the production and sale of their commodity, may find no advantage in continuing their business. But, lest the said islanders should suffer inconveniency by the want of hats, we are farther graciously pleased to permit them to send their beaver furs to Prussia; and we also permit hats made thereof to be exported from Prussia to Britain; the people thus favoured to pay all costs and charges of manufacturing, interest, commission to our merchants, insurance and freight going and returning, as in the case of iron.
"And, lastly, being willing farther to favour our said colonies in Britain, we do hereby also ordain and command, that all the _thieves_, highway and street robbers, house-breakers, forgerers, murderers, s--d--tes, and villains of every denomination, who have forfeited their lives to the law in Prussia; but whom we, in our great clemency, do not think fit here to hang, shall be emptied out of our gaols into the said island of Great Britain, for the better peopling of that country.
"We flatter ourselves, that these our royal regulations and commands will be thought just and reasonable by our much-favoured colonists in England; the said regulations being copied from their statutes of 10 and 11 William III. c. 10, 5 Geo. II, c. 22, 23, Geo. II. c. 29, 4 Geo. I. c. 11, and from other equitable laws made by their parliaments; or from instructions given by their Princes; or from resolutions of both Houses, entered into for the good government of their _own colonies in Ireland and America_.
"And all persons in the said island are hereby cautioned: not to oppose in any wise the execution of this our Edict, or any part thereof, such opposition being high treason; of which all who are suspected shall be transported in fetters from Britain to Prussia, there to be tried and executed according to the Prussian law.
"Such is our pleasure.
"Given at Potsdam, this twenty-fifth day of the month of August, one thousand seven hundred and seventy-three, and in the thirty-third year of our reign.
"By the King, in his Council.
"RECHTMAESSIG, _Sec._"
Some take this Edict to be merely one of the King's _Jeux d'Esprit_: others suppose it serious, and that he means a quarrel with England; but all here think the assertion it concludes with, "that these regulations are copied from acts of the English parliament respecting their colonies," a very injurious one; it being impossible to believe, that a people distinguished for their love of liberty, a nation so wise, so liberal in its sentiments, so just and equitable towards its neighbours, should, from mean and injudicious views of petty immediate profit, treat its own children in a manner so arbitrary and tyrannical!
RULES BY WHICH A GREAT EMPIRE MAY BE REDUCED TO A SMALL ONE
Presented to a late Minister, when he entered upon his Administration
[From the _Gentleman's Magazine_, Sept., 1773.]
An ancient Sage boasted, that, tho' he could not fiddle, he knew how to make a _great city_ of _a little one_. The science that I, a modern simpleton, am about to communicate, is the very reverse.
I address myself to all ministers who have the management of extensive dominions, which from their very greatness are become troublesome to govern, because the multiplicity of their affairs leaves no time for _fiddling_.
I. In the first place, gentlemen, you are to consider, that a great empire, like a great cake, is most easily diminished at the edges. Turn your attention, therefore, first to your _remotest_ provinces; that, as you get rid of them, the next may follow in order.
II. That the possibility of this separation may always exist, take special care the provinces are never incorporated with the mother country; that they do not enjoy the same common rights, the same privileges in commerce; and that they are governed by _severer_ laws, all of _your enacting_, without allowing them any share in the choice of the legislators. By carefully making and preserving such distinctions, you will (to keep to my simile of the cake) act like a wise ginger-bread-baker, who, to facilitate a division, cuts his dough half through in those places where, when baked, he would have it _broken to pieces_.
III. Those remote provinces have perhaps been acquired, purchased, or conquered, at the _sole expence_ of the settlers, or their ancestors, without the aid of the mother country. If this should happen to increase her _strength_, by their growing numbers, ready to join in her wars; her _commerce_, by their growing demand for her manufactures; or her _naval power_, by greater employment for her ships and seamen, they may probably suppose some merit in this, and that it entitles them to some favour; you are therefore to _forget it all_, _or resent it_, as if they had done you injury. If they happen to be zealous whigs, friends of liberty, nurtured in revolution principles, _remember all that_ to their prejudice, and resolve to punish it; for such principles, after a revolution is thoroughly established, are of _no more use_; they are even _odious_ and _abominable_.
IV. However peaceably your colonies have submitted to your government, shewn their affection to your interests, and patiently borne their grievances; you are to _suppose_ them always inclined to revolt, and treat them accordingly. Quarter troops among them, who by their insolence may _provoke_ the rising of mobs, and by their bullets and bayonets _suppress_ them. By this means, like the husband who uses his wife ill _from suspicion_, you may in time convert your _suspicions_ into _realities_.
V. Remote provinces must have _Governors_ and _Judges_, to represent the Royal Person, and execute everywhere the delegated parts of his office and authority. You ministers know, that much of the strength of government depends on the _opinion_ of the people; and much of that opinion on the _choice of rulers_ placed immediately over them. If you send them wise and good men for governors, who study the interest of the colonists, and advance their prosperity, they will think their King wise and good, and that he wishes the welfare of his subjects. If you send them learned and upright men for Judges, they will think him a lover of justice. This may attach your provinces more to his government. You are therefore to be careful whom you recommend for those offices. If you can find prodigals, who have ruined their fortunes, broken gamesters or stockjobbers, these may do well as _governors_; for they will probably be rapacious, and provoke the people by their extortions. Wrangling proctors and pettifogging lawyers, too, are not amiss; for they will be for ever disputing and quarrelling with their little parliaments. If withal they should be ignorant, wrong-headed, and insolent, so much the better. Attornies' clerks and Newgate solicitors will do for _Chief Justices_, especially if they hold their places _during your pleasure_; and all will contribute to impress those ideas of your government, that are proper for a people _you would wish to renounce it_.
VI. To confirm these impressions, and strike them deeper, whenever the injured come to the capital with complaints of maladministration, oppression, or injustice, punish such suitors with long delay, enormous expence, and a final judgment in favour of the oppressor. This will have an admirable effect every way. The trouble of future complaints will be prevented, and Governors and Judges will be encouraged to farther acts of oppression and injustice; and thence the people may become more disaffected, and at length desperate.
VII. When such Governors have crammed their coffers, and made themselves so odious to the people that they can no longer remain among them, with safety to their persons, _recall and reward_ them with pensions. You may make them _baronets_ too, if that respectable order should not think fit to resent it. All will contribute to encourage new governors in the same practice, and make the supreme government, _detestable_.
VIII. If, when you are engaged in war, your colonies should vie in liberal aids of men and money against the common enemy, upon your simple requisition, and give far beyond their abilities, reflect that a penny taken from them by your power is more honourable to you, than a pound presented by their benevolence; despise therefore their voluntary grants; and resolve to harass them with novel taxes. They will probably complain to your parliaments, that they are taxed by a body in which they have no representative, and that this is contrary to common right. They will petition for redress. Let the Parliaments flout their claims, reject their petitions, refuse even to suffer the reading of them, and treat the petitioners with the utmost contempt. Nothing can have a better effect in producing the alienation proposed; for though many can forgive injuries, _none ever forgave contempt_.
IX. In laying these taxes, never regard the heavy burthens those remote people already undergo, in defending their own frontiers, supporting their own provincial governments, making new roads, building bridges, churches, and other public edifices, which in old countries have been done to your hands by your ancestors, but which occasion constant calls and demands on the purses of a new people. Forget the _restraints_ you lay on their trade for _your own_ benefit, and the advantage a _monopoly_ of this trade gives your exacting merchants. Think nothing of the wealth those merchants and your manufacturers acquire by the colony commerce; their encreased ability thereby to pay taxes at home; their accumulating, in the price of their commodities, most of those taxes, and so levying them from their consuming customers; all this, and the employment and support of thousands of your poor by the colonists, you are _intirely to forget_. But remember to make your arbitrary tax more grievous to your provinces, by public declarations importing that your power of taxing them has _no limits_; so that when you take from them without their consent one shilling in the pound, you have a clear right to the other nineteen. This will probably weaken every idea of _security in their property_, and convince them, that under such a government they _have nothing they can call their own_; which can scarce fail of producing the _happiest consequences_!
X. Possibly, indeed, some of them might still comfort themselves, and say, "Though we have no property, we have yet _something_ left that is valuable; we have constitutional _liberty_, both of person and of conscience. This King, these Lords, and these Commons, who it seems are too remote from us to know us, and feel for us, cannot take from us our _Habeas Corpus_ right, or our right of trial _by a jury of our neighbours_; they cannot deprive us of the exercise of our religion, alter our ecclesiastical constitution, and compel us to be Papists, if they please, or Mahometans." To annihilate this comfort, begin by laws to perplex their commerce with infinite regulations, impossible to be remembered and observed; ordain seizures of their property for every failure; take away the trial of such property by Jury, and give it to arbitrary Judges of your own appointing, and of the lowest characters in the country, whose salaries and emoluments are to arise out of the duties or condemnations, and whose appointments are _during pleasure_. Then let there be a formal declaration of both Houses, that opposition to your edicts is _treason_, and that any person suspected of treason in the provinces may, according to some obsolete law, be seized and sent to the metropolis of the empire for trial; and pass an act, that those there charged with certain other offences, shall be sent away in chains from their friends and country to be tried in the same manner for felony. Then erect a new Court of Inquisition among them, accompanied by an armed force, with instructions to transport all such suspected persons; to be ruined by the expence, if they bring over evidences to prove their innocence, or be found guilty and hanged, if they cannot afford it. And, lest the people should think you cannot possibly go any farther, pass another solemn declaratory act, "that King, Lords, Commons had, hath, and of right ought to have, full power and authority to make statutes of sufficient force and validity to bind the unrepresented provinces IN ALL CASES WHATSOEVER." This will include _spiritual_ with temporal, and, taken together, must operate wonderfully to your purpose; by convincing them, that they are at present under a power something like that spoken of in the scriptures, which can not only _kill their bodies_, but _damn their souls_ to all eternity, by compelling them, if it pleases, _to worship the Devil_.
XI. To make your taxes more odious, and more likely to procure resistance, send from the capital a board of officers to superintend the collection, composed of the most _indiscreet_, _ill-bred_, and _insolent_ you can find. Let these have large salaries out of the extorted revenue, and live in open, grating luxury upon the sweat and blood of the industrious; whom they are to worry continually with groundless and expensive prosecutions before the abovementioned arbitrary revenue Judges; _all at the cost of the party prosecuted_, tho' acquitted, because _the King is to pay no costs_. Let these men, _by your order_, be exempted from all the common taxes and burthens of the province, though they and their property are protected by its laws. If any revenue officers are _suspected_ of the least tenderness for the people, discard them. If others are justly complained of, protect and reward them. If any of the under officers behave so as to provoke the people to drub them, promote those to better offices: this will encourage others to procure for themselves such profitable drubbings, by multiplying and enlarging such provocations, and _all will work towards the end you aim at_.
XII. Another way to make your tax odious, is to misapply the produce of it. If it was originally appropriated for the _defence_ of the provinces, the better support of government, and the administration of justice, where it may be _necessary_, then apply none of it to that _defence_, but bestow it where it is _not necessary_, in augmented salaries or pensions to every governor, who has distinguished himself by his enmity to the people, and by calumniating them to their sovereign. This will make them pay it more unwillingly, and be more apt to quarrel with those that collect it and those that imposed it, who will quarrel again with them, and all shall contribute to your _main purpose_, of making them _weary of your government_.
XIII. If the people of any province have been accustomed to support their own Governors and Judges to satisfaction, you are to apprehend that such Governors and Judges may be thereby influenced to treat the people kindly, and to do them justice. This is another reason for applying part of that revenue in larger salaries to such Governors and Judges, given, as their commissions are, _during your pleasure_ only; forbidding them to take any salaries from their provinces; that thus the people may no longer hope any kindness from their Governors, or (in Crown cases) any justice from their Judges. And, as the money thus misapplied in one province is extorted from all, probably _all will resent the misapplication_.
XIV. If the parliaments of your provinces should dare to claim rights, or complain of your administration, order them to be harassed with _repeated dissolutions_. If the same men are continually returned by new elections, adjourn their meetings to some country village, where they cannot be accommodated, and there keep them _during pleasure_; for this, you know, is your PREROGATIVE; and an excellent one it is, as you may manage it to promote discontents among the people, diminish their respect, and _increase their disaffection_.
XV. Convert the brave, honest officers of your _navy_ into pimping tide-waiters and colony officers of the _customs_. Let those, who in time of war fought gallantly in defence of the commerce of their countrymen, in peace be taught to prey upon it. Let them learn to be corrupted by great and real smugglers; but (to shew their diligence) scour with armed boats every bay, harbour, river, creek, cove, or nook throughout the coast of your colonies; stop and detain every coaster, every wood-boat, every fisherman, tumble their cargoes and even their ballast inside out and upside down; and, if a penn'orth of pins is found unentered, let the whole be seized and confiscated. Thus shall the trade of your colonists suffer more from their friends in time of peace, than it did from their enemies in war. Then let these boats crews land upon every farm in their way, rob the orchards, steal the pigs and the poultry, and insult the inhabitants. If the injured and exasperated farmers, unable to procure other justice, should attack the aggressors, drub them, and burn their boats; you are to call this _high treason and rebellion_, order fleets and armies into their country, and threaten to carry all the offenders three thousand miles to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. _O! this will work admirably!_
XVI. If you are told of discontents in your colonies, never believe that they are general, or that you have given occasion for them; therefore do not think of applying any remedy, or of changing any offensive measure. Redress no grievance, lest they should be encouraged to demand the redress of some other grievance. Grant no request that is just and reasonable, lest they should make another that is unreasonable. Take all your informations of the state of the colonies from your Governors and officers in enmity with them. Encourage and reward these _leasing-makers_; secrete their lying accusations, lest they should be confuted; but act upon them as the clearest evidence; and believe nothing you hear from the friends of the people: suppose all _their_ complaints to be invented and promoted by a few factious demagogues, whom if you could catch and hang, all would be quiet. Catch and hang a few of them accordingly; and the _blood of the Martyrs_ shall _work miracles_ in favour of your purpose.
XVII. If you see _rival nations_ rejoicing at the prospect of your disunion with your provinces, and endeavouring to promote it; if they translate, publish, and applaud all the complaints of your discontented colonists, at the same time privately stimulating you to severer measures, let not that _alarm_ or offend you. Why should it, since you all mean _the same thing_?
XVIII. If any colony should at their own charge erect a fortress to secure their port against the fleets of a foreign enemy, get your Governor to betray that fortress into your hands. Never think of paying what it cost the country, for that would look, at least, like some regard for justice; but turn it into a citadel to awe the inhabitants and curb their commerce. If they should have lodged in such fortress the very arms they bought and used to aid you in your conquests, seize them all; it will provoke like _ingratitude_ added to _robbery_. One admirable effect of these operations will be, to discourage every other colony from erecting such defences, and so your enemies may more easily invade them; to the great disgrace of your government, and of course _the furtherance of your project_.
XIX. Send armies into their country under pretence of protecting the inhabitants; but, instead of garrisoning the forts on their frontiers with those troops, to prevent incursions, demolish those forts, and order the troops into the heart of the country, that the savages may be encouraged to attack the frontiers, and that the troops may be protected by the inhabitants. This will seem to proceed from your ill will or your ignorance, and contribute farther to produce and strengthen an opinion among them, _that you are no longer fit to govern them_.
XX. Lastly, invest the General of your army in the provinces, with great and unconstitutional powers, and free him from the controul of even your own Civil Governors. Let him have troops enow under his command, with all the fortresses in his possession; and who knows but (like some provincial Generals in the Roman empire, and encouraged by the universal discontent you have produced) he may take it into his head to set up for himself? If he should, and you have carefully practised these few _excellent rules_ of mine, take my word for it, all the provinces will immediately join him; and you will that day (if you have not done it sooner) get rid of the trouble of governing them, and all the _plagues_ attending their _commerce_ and connection from henceforth and for ever.
Q. E. D.
TO WILLIAM FRANKLIN
London, October 6, 1773.
DEAR SON,
I wrote to you the 1st of last month, since which I have received yours of July 29, from New York. I know not what letters of mine Governor H[utchinson] could mean, as advising the people to insist on their independency. But whatever they were, I suppose he has sent copies of them hither, having heard some whisperings about them. I shall however, be able at any time to justify every thing I have written; the purport being uniformly this, that they should carefully avoid all tumults and every violent measure, and content themselves with verbally keeping up their claims, and holding forth their rights whenever occasion requires; secure, that, from the growing importance of America, those claims will ere long be attended to and acknowledged.
From a long and thorough consideration of the subject, I am indeed of opinion, that the parliament has no right to make any law whatever, binding on the colonies; that the king, and not the king, lords, and commons collectively, is their sovereign; and that the king, with their respective parliaments, is their only legislator. I know your sentiments differ from mine on these subjects. You are a thorough government man, which I do not wonder at, nor do I aim at converting you. I only wish you to act uprightly and steadily, avoiding that duplicity, which in Hutchinson, adds contempt to indignation. If you can promote the prosperity of your people, and leave them happier than you found them, whatever your political principles are, your memory will be honoured.
I have written two pieces here lately for the _Public Advertiser_, on American affairs, designed to expose the conduct of this country towards the colonies in a short, comprehensive, and striking view, and stated, therefore, in out-of-the-way forms, as most likely to take the general attention. The first was called "_Rules by which a Great Empire may be reduced to a small one_;" the second, "_An Edict of the King of Prussia_." I sent you one of the first, but could not get enough of the second to spare you one, though my clerk went the next morning to the printer's, and wherever they were sold. They were all gone but two. In my own mind I preferred the first, as a composition for the quantity and variety of the matter contained, and a kind of spirited ending of each paragraph. But I find that others here generally prefer the second.
I am not suspected as the author, except by one or two friends; and have heard the latter spoken of in the highest terms, as the keenest and severest piece that has appeared here for a long time. Lord Mansfield, I hear, said of it, that it _was very_ ABLE _and very_ ARTFUL _indeed_; and would do mischief by giving here a bad impression of the measures of government; and in the colonies, by encouraging them in their contumacy. It is reprinted in the _Chronicle_, where you will see it, but stripped of all the capitaling and italicing, that intimate the allusions and mark the emphasis of written discourses, to bring them as near as possible to those spoken: printing such a piece all in one even small character, seems to me like repeating one of Whitefield's sermons in the monotony of a schoolboy.
What made it the more noticed here was, that people in reading it were, as the phrase is, _taken in_, till they had got half through it, and imagined it a real edict, to which mistake I suppose the King of Prussia's _character_ must have contributed. I was down at Lord Le Despencer's when the post brought that day's papers. Mr. Whitehead was there, too, (Paul Whitehead, the author of "Manners,") who runs early through all the papers, and tells the company what he finds remarkable. He had them in another room, and we were chatting in the breakfast parlour, when he came running in to us, out of breath, with the paper in his hand. Here! says he, here's news for ye! _Here's the King of Prussia, claiming a right to this kingdom!_ All stared, and I as much as anybody; and he went on to read it. When he had read two or three paragraphs, a gentleman present said, _Damn his impudence, I dare say, we shall hear by next post that he is upon his march with one hundred thousand men to back this_. Whitehead, who is very shrewd, soon after began to smoke it, and looking in my face said, _I'll be hanged if this is not some of your American jokes upon us_. The reading went on, and ended with abundance of laughing, and a general verdict that it was a fair hit: and the piece was cut out of the paper and preserved in my Lord's collection.
I do not wonder that Hutchinson should be dejected. It must be an uncomfortable thing to live among people who he is conscious universally detest him. Yet I fancy he will not have leave to come home, both because they know not well what to do with him, and because they do not very well like his conduct. I am ever your affectionate father,
B. FRANKLIN.
PREFACE TO "AN ABRIDGMENT OF THE BOOK OF COMMON PRAYER"[82]
[1773]
The editor of the following abridgment of the Liturgy of the Church of England thinks it but decent and respectful to all, more particularly to the reverend body of clergy, who adorn the Protestant religion by their good works, preaching, and example, that he should humbly offer some reason for such an undertaking. He addresses himself to the serious and discerning. He professes himself to be a Protestant of the Church of England, and holds in the highest veneration the doctrines of Jesus Christ. He is a sincere lover of social worship, deeply sensible of its usefulness to society; and he aims at doing some service to religion, by proposing such abbreviations and omissions in the forms of our Liturgy (retaining everything he thinks essential) as might, if adopted, procure a more general attendance. For, besides the differing sentiments of many pious and well-disposed persons in some speculative points, who in general have a good opinion of our Church, it has often been observed and complained of, that the Morning and Evening Service, as practised in England and elsewhere, are so long, and filled with so many repetitions, that the continued attention suitable to so serious a duty becomes impracticable, the mind wanders, and the fervency of devotion is slackened. Also the propriety of saying the same prayer more than once in the same service is doubted, as the service is thereby lengthened without apparent necessity; our Lord having given us a short prayer as an example, and censured the heathen for thinking to be heard because of much speaking.
Moreover, many pious and devout persons, whose age or infirmities will not suffer them to remain for hours in a cold church, especially in the winter season, are obliged to forego the comfort and edification they would receive by their attendance at divine service. These, by shortening the time, would be relieved, and the younger sort, who have had some principles of religion instilled into them, and who have been educated in a belief of the necessity of adoring their Maker, would probably more frequently, as well as cheerfully, attend divine service, if they were not detained so long at any one time. Also many well disposed tradesmen, shopkeepers, artificers, and others, whose habitations are not remote from churches, could, and would, more frequently at least, find [time to attend divine service on other than Sundays, if the prayers were reduced to a much narrower compass.
Formerly there were three services performed at different times of the day, which three services are now usually joined in one. This may suit the convenience of the person who officiates, but it is too often inconvenient and tiresome to the congregation. If this abridgment, therefore, should ever meet with acceptance, the well-disposed clergy who are laudably desirous to encourage the _frequency_ of divine service, may promote so great and good a purpose by repeating it three times on a Sunday, without so much fatigue to themselves as at present. Suppose, at nine o'clock, at eleven, and at one in the evening; and by preaching no more sermons than usual of a moderate length; and thereby accommodate a greater number of people with convenient hours.
These were general reasons for wishing and proposing an abridgment. In attempting it we do not presume to dictate even to a single Christian. We are sensible there is a proper authority in the rulers of the Church for ordering such matters; and whenever the time shall come when it may be thought not unreasonable to revise our Liturgy, there is no doubt but every suitable improvement will be made, under the care and direction of so much learning, wisdom, and piety, in one body of men collected. Such a work as this must then be much better executed. In the meantime this humble performance may serve to show the practicability of shortening the service near one half, without the omission of what is essentially necessary; and we hope, moreover, that the book may be occasionally of some use to families, or private assemblies of Christians.
To give now some account of particulars. We have presumed upon this plan of abridgment to omit the First Lesson, which is taken from the Old Testament, and retain only the Second from the New Testament, which, we apprehend, is more suitable to teach the so-much-to-be-revered doctrine of Christ, and of more immediate importance to Christians;] although the Old Testament is allowed by all to be an accurate and concise history, and, as such, may more properly be read at home.
[We do not conceive it necessary for Christians to make use of more than one creed. Therefore, in this abridgment are omitted the Nicene Creed and that of St. Athanasius. Of the Apostle's Creed we have retained the parts that are most intelligible and most essential. And as the _Father_, _Son_, and _Holy Ghost_ are there confessedly and avowedly a part of the belief, it does not appear necessary, after so solemn a confession, to repeat again, in the Litany, the _Son_ and _Holy Ghost_, as that part of the service is otherwise very prolix.
The Psalms being a collection of odes written by different persons, it hath happened that many of them are on the same subjects and repeat the same sentiments--such as those that complain of enemies and persecutors, call upon God for protection, express a confidence therein, and thank him for it when afforded. A very great part of the book consists of repetitions of this kind, which may therefore well bear abridgment. Other parts are merely historical, repeating the mention of facts more fully narrated in the preceding books, and which, relating to the ancestors of the Jews, were more interesting to them than to us. Other parts are _local_, and allude to places of which we have no knowledge, and therefore do not affect us. Others are _personal_, relating to the particular circumstances of David or Solomon, as kings, and can therefore seldom be rehearsed with any propriety by private Christians. Others imprecate, in the most bitter terms, the vengeance of God on our adversaries, contrary to the spirit of Christianity, which commands us to love our enemies, and to pray for those that hate us and despitefully use us. For these reasons it is to be wished that the same liberty were by the governors of our Church allowed to the minister with regard to the _reading Psalms_, as is taken by the clerk with regard to those that are to be sung, in directing the parts that he may judge most suitable to be read at the time, from the present circumstances of the congregation, or the tenor of his sermon, by saying, "Let us _read_" such and such parts of the Psalms named. Until this is done our abridgment, it is hoped, will be found to contain what may be most generally proper to be joined in by an assembly of Christian people. The Psalms are still apportioned to the days of the month, as heretofore, though the several parts for each day are generally a full third shorter.
We humbly suppose the same service contained in this abridgment might properly serve for all the saints' days, fasts, and feasts, reading only the Epistle and Gospel appropriated to each day of the month.
The Communion is greatly abridged, on account of its great length; nevertheless, it is hoped and believed that all those parts are retained which are material and necessary.
Infant Baptism in Churches being performed during divine service, would greatly add to the length of that service, if it were not abridged. We have ventured, therefore, to leave out the less material parts.
The Catechism, as a compendium of systematic theology, which learned divines have written folio volumes to explain, and which, therefore, it may be presumed, they thought scarce intelligible without such expositions, is, perhaps, taken altogether, not so well adapted to the capacities of children as might be wished. Only those plain answers, therefore, which express our duty towards God, and our duty towards our neighbor, are retained here. The rest is recommended to their reading and serious consideration, when more years shall have ripened their understanding.]
The Confirmation is here shortened.
The Commination, and all cursing of mankind, is, we think, best omitted in this abridgment.
The form of solemnization of Matrimony is often abbreviated by the officiating minister at his discretion. We have selected what appears to us the material parts, and which we humbly hope, will be deemed sufficient.
The long prayers in the service for the Visitation of the Sick seem not so proper, when the afflicted person is very weak and in distress.
The Order for the Burial of the Dead is very solemn and moving; nevertheless, to preserve the health and lives of the living, it appeared to us that this service ought particularly to be shortened. For numbers standing in the open air with their hats off, often in tempestuous weather, during the celebration, its great length is not only inconvenient, but may be dangerous to the attendants. We hope, therefore, that our abridgment of it will be approved by the rational and prudent.
The Thanksgiving of women after childbirth being, when read, part of the service of the day, we have also, in some measure, abridged that.
Having thus stated very briefly our motives and reasons, and our manner of proceeding in the prosecution of this work, we hope to be believed, when we declare the rectitude of our intentions. We mean not to lessen or prevent the practice of religion, but to honour and promote it. We acknowledge the excellency of our present Liturgy, and, though we have shortened it, we have not presumed to alter a word in the remaining text; not even to substitute _who_ for _which_ in the Lord's Prayer, and elsewhere, although it would be more correct. We respect the characters of bishops and other dignitaries of our Church, and, with regard to the inferior clergy we wish that they were more equally provided for, than by that odious and vexatious as well as unjust method of gathering tithes in kind, which creates animosities and litigations, to the interruption of the good harmony and respect which might otherwise subsist between the rectors and their parishioners.
And thus, conscious of upright meaning, we submit this abridgment to the serious consideration of the prudent and dispassionate, and not to enthusiasts and bigots; being convinced in our own breasts, that this shortened method, or one of the same kind better executed, would further religion, increase unanimity, and occasion a more frequent attendance on the worship of God.
A PARABLE AGAINST PERSECUTION[83]
1. And it came to pass after these things, that Abraham sat in the door of his tent, about the going down of the sun.
2. And behold a man, bent with age, coming from the way of the wilderness, leaning on a staff.
3. And Abraham arose and met him, and said unto him, Turn in, I pray thee, and wash thy feet, and tarry all night, and thou shalt arise early in the morning, and go on thy way.
4. But the man said, Nay, for I will abide under this tree.
5. And Abraham pressed him greatly; so he turned, and they went into the tent; and Abraham baked unleavened bread, and they did eat.
6. And when Abraham saw that the man blessed not God, he said unto him, Wherefore dost thou not worship the most high God, Creator of heaven and earth?
7. And the man answered and said, I do not worship thy God, neither do I call upon his name; for I have made to myself a god, which abideth always in mine house, and provideth me with all things.
8. And Abraham's zeal was kindled against the man, and he arose and fell upon him, and drove him forth with blows into the wilderness.
9. And God called unto Abraham, saying, Abraham, where is the stranger?
10. And Abraham answered and said, Lord, he would not worship thee, neither would he call upon thy name; therefore have I driven him out from before my face into the wilderness.
11. And God said, Have I borne with him these hundred and ninety and eight years, and nourished him, and cloathed him, notwithstanding his rebellion against me; and couldst not thou, who art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night?
12. And Abraham said, Let not the anger of the Lord wax hot against his servant; lo, I have sinned; lo, I have sinned; forgive me, I pray thee.
13. And Abraham arose, and went forth into the wilderness, and sought diligently for the man, and found him, and returned with him to the tent; and when he had entreated him kindly, he sent him away on the morrow with gifts.
14. And God spake again unto Abraham, saying, For this thy sin shall thy seed be afflicted four hundred years in a strange land;
15. But for thy repentance will I deliver them; and they shall come forth with power, and with gladness of heart, and with much substance.
A PARABLE ON BROTHERLY LOVE[84]
1. In those days there was no worker of iron in all the land. And the merchants of Midian passed by with their camels, bearing spices, and myrrh, and balm, and wares of iron.
2. And Reuben bought an axe of the Ishmaelite merchants, which he prized highly, for there was none in his father's house.
3. And Simeon said unto Reuben his brother, "Lend me, I pray thee, thine axe." But he refused, and would not.
4. And Levi also said unto him, "My brother, lend me, I pray thee, thine axe;" and he refused him also.
5. Then came Judah unto Reuben, and entreated him, saying, "Lo, thou lovest me, and I have always loved thee; do not refuse me the use of thine axe."
6. But Reuben turned from him, and refused him likewise.
7. Now it came to pass, that Reuben hewed timber on the bank of the river, and his axe fell therein, and he could by no means find it.
8. But Simeon, Levi, and Judah had sent a messenger after the Ishmaelites with money, and had bought for themselves each an axe.
9. Then came Reuben unto Simeon, and said, "Lo, I have lost mine axe, and my work is unfinished; lend me thine, I pray thee."
10. And Simeon answered him, saying, "Thou wouldest not lend me thine axe, therefore will I not lend thee mine."
11. Then went he unto Levi, and said unto him, "My brother, thou knowest my loss and my necessity; lend me, I pray thee, thine axe."
12. And Levi reproached him, saying, "Thou wouldest not lend me thine axe when I desired it, but I will be better than thou, and will lend thee mine."
13. And Reuben was grieved at the rebuke of Levi and being ashamed, turned from him, and took not the axe, but sought his brother Judah.
14. And as he drew near, Judah beheld his countenance as it were covered with grief and shame; and he prevented him, saying, "My brother, I know thy loss; but why should it trouble thee? Lo, have I not an axe that will serve both thee and me? Take it, I pray thee, and use it as thine own."
15. And Reuben fell on his neck, and kissed him, with tears, saying, "Thy kindness is great, but thy goodness in forgiving me is greater. Thou are indeed my brother, and whilst I live, will I surely love thee."
16. And Judah said, "Let us also love our other brethren; behold, are we not all of one blood?"
17. And Joseph saw these things, and reported them to his father Jacob.
18. And Jacob said, "Reuben did wrong, but he repented. Simeon also did wrong; and Levi was not altogether blameless.
19. "But the heart of Judah is princely. Judah hath the soul of a king. His father's children shall bow down before him, and he shall rule over his brethren."
TO WILLIAM STRAHAN[85]
Philad^a July 5, 1775.
MR. STRAHAN,
You are a Member of Parliament, and one of that Majority which has doomed my Country to Destruction.--You have begun to burn our Towns, and murder our People.--Look upon your Hands! They are stained with the Blood of your Relations!--You and I were long Friends:--You are now my Enemy,--and I am
Yours, B. FRANKLIN.
TO JOSEPH PRIESTLEY
Philadelphia, July 7, 1775.
DEAR FRIEND,
The Congress met at a time when all minds were so exasperated by the perfidy of General Gage, and his attack on the country people, that propositions of attempting an accommodation were not much relished; and it has been with difficulty that we have carried another humble petition to the crown, to give Britain one more chance, one opportunity more, of recovering the friendship of the colonies; which, however, I think she has not sense enough to embrace, and so I conclude she has lost them for ever.
She has begun to burn our seaport towns; secure, I suppose, that we shall never be able to return the outrage in kind. She may doubtless destroy them all; but, if she wishes to recover our commerce, are these the probable means? She must certainly be distracted; for no tradesman out of Bedlam ever thought of encreasing the number of his customers, by knocking them on the head; or of enabling them to pay their debts, by burning their houses. If she wishes to have us subjects, and that we should submit to her as our compound sovereign, she is now giving us such miserable specimens of her government, that we shall ever detest and avoid it, as a complication of robbery, murder, famine, fire, and pestilence.
You will have heard, before this reaches you, of the treacherous conduct [of General Gage] to the remaining people in Boston, in detaining their _goods_, after stipulating to let them go out with their _effects_, on pretence that merchants' goods were not effects; the defeat of a great body of his troops by the country people at Lexington; some other small advantages gained in skirmishes with their troops; and the action at Bunker's Hill, in which they were twice repulsed, and the third time gained a dear victory. Enough has happened, one would think, to convince your ministers, that the Americans will fight, and that this is a harder nut to crack than they imagined.
We have not yet applied to any foreign power for assistance, nor offered our commerce for their friendship. Perhaps we never may; yet it is natural to think of it, if we are pressed. We have now an army on our establishment, which still holds yours besieged. My time was never more fully employed. In the morning at six, I am at the Committee of Safety, appointed by the Assembly to put the province in a state of defence; which committee holds till near nine, when I am at the Congress, and that sits till after four in the afternoon. Both these bodies proceed with the greatest unanimity, and their meetings are well attended. It will scarce be credited in Britain, that men can be as diligent with us from zeal for the public good, as with you for thousands per annum. Such is the difference between uncorrupted new states, and corrupted old ones.
Great frugality and great industry are now become fashionable here. Gentlemen, who used to entertain with two or three courses, pride themselves now in treating with simple beef and pudding. By these means, and the stoppage of our consumptive trade with Britain, we shall be better able to pay our voluntary taxes for the support of our troops. Our savings in the article of trade amount to near five millions sterling per annum.
I shall communicate your letter to Mr. Winthrop; but the camp is at Cambridge, and he has as little leisure for philosophy as myself. Believe me ever with sincere esteem, my dear friend, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO A FRIEND IN ENGLAND[86]
Philadelphia, Oct. 3, 1775.
DEAR SIR,
I wish as ardently as you can do for peace, and should rejoice exceedingly in coöperating with you to that end. But every ship from Britain brings some intelligence of new measures that tend more and more to exasperate; and it seems to me, that until you have found by dear experience the reducing us by force impracticable, you will think of nothing fair and reasonable.
We have as yet resolved only on defensive measures. If you would recall your forces and stay at home, we should meditate nothing to injure you. A little time so given for cooling on both sides would have excellent effects. But you will goad and provoke us. You despise us too much; and you are insensible of the Italian adage, that there is no _little enemy_. I am persuaded that the body of the British people are our friends; but they are changeable, and by your lying Gazettes may soon be made our enemies. Our respect for them will proportionably diminish, and I see clearly we are on the high road to mutual Enmity[,] hatred and detestation. A separation of course will be inevitable. 'Tis a million of pities so fair a plan as we have hitherto been engaged in, for increasing strength and empire with _public felicity_, should be destroyed by the mangling hands of a few blundering ministers. It will not be destroyed; God will protect and prosper it, you will only exclude yourselves from any share in it. We hear, that more ships and troops are coming out. We know, that you may do us a great deal of mischief, and are determined to bear it patiently as long as we can. But, if you flatter yourselves with beating us into submission, you know neither the people nor the country. The Congress are still sitting, and will wait the result of their _last_ petition. Yours, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
TO LORD HOWE
Philadelphia, July 30th,[87] 1776.
MY LORD,
I receiv'd safe the Letters your Lordship so kindly forwarded to me, and beg you to accept my thanks.
The official dispatches, to which you refer me, contain nothing more than what we had seen in the Act of Parliament, viz. Offers of Pardon upon Submission, which I was sorry to find, as it must give your Lordship Pain to be sent upon so fruitless a Business.
Directing Pardons to be offered to the Colonies, who are the very Parties injured, expresses indeed that Opinion of our Ignorance, Baseness, and Insensibility, which your uninform'd and proud Nation has long been pleased to entertain of us; but it can have no other effect than that of increasing our Resentments. It is impossible we should think of Submission to a Government, that has with the most wanton Barbarity and Cruelty burnt our defenceless Towns in the midst of Winter, excited the Savages to massacre our Peacefull Farmers, and our Slaves to murder their Masters, and is even now bringing foreign Mercenaries to deluge our Settlements with Blood. These atrocious Injuries have extinguished every remaining Spark of Affection for that Parent Country we once held so dear; but, were it possible for _us_ to forget and forgive them, it is not possible for _you_ (I mean the British Nation) to forgive the People you have so heavily injured. You can never confide again in those as Fellow Subjects, and permit them to enjoy equal Freedom, to whom you know you have given such just Cause of lasting Enmity. And this must impel you, were we again under your Government, to endeavour the breaking our Spirit by the severest Tyranny, and obstructing, by every Means in your Power, our growing Strength and Prosperity.
But your Lordship mentions "the King's paternal solicitude for promoting the Establishment of lasting _Peace_ and Union with the Colonies." If by Peace is here meant a Peace to be entered into between Britain and America, as distinct States now at War, and his Majesty has given your Lordship Powers to treat with us of such a Peace, I may venture to say, though without Authority, that I think a Treaty for that purpose not yet quite impracticable, before we enter into foreign Alliances. But I am persuaded you have no such Powers. Your nation, though, by punishing those American Governors, who have fomented the Discord, rebuilding our burnt Towns, and repairing as far as possible the mischiefs done us, might yet recover a great Share of our Regard, and the greatest Part of our growing Commerce, with all the Advantage of that additional Strength to be derived from a Friendship with us; but I know too well her abounding Pride and deficient Wisdom, to believe she will ever take such salutary Measures. Her Fondness for Conquest, as a warlike Nation, her lust of Dominion, as an ambitious one, and her wish for a gainful Monopoly, as a commercial One, (none of them legitimate Causes of War,) will all join to hide from her Eyes every view of her true Interests, and continually goad her on in those ruinous distant Expeditions, so destructive both of Lives and Treasure, that must prove as pernicious to her in the End, as the Crusades formerly were to most of the Nations in Europe.
I have not the Vanity, my Lord, to think of intimidating by thus predicting the Effects of this War; for I know it will in England have the Fate of all my former Predictions, not to be believed till the Event shall verify it.
Long did I endeavour, with unfeigned and unwearied Zeal, to preserve from breaking that fine and noble China Vase, the British Empire; for I knew, that, being once broken, the separate Parts could not retain even their Shares of the Strength and Value that existed in the Whole, and that a perfect Reunion of those Parts could scarce ever be hoped for. Your Lordship may possibly remember the tears of Joy that wet my Cheek, when, at your good Sister's in London, you once gave me Expectations that a Reconciliation might soon take Place. I had the Misfortune to find those Expectations disappointed, and to be treated as the Cause of the Mischief I was laboring to prevent. My Consolation under that groundless and malevolent Treatment was, that I retained the Friendship of many wise and good Men in that country, and, among the rest, some Share in the Regard of Lord Howe.
The well-founded Esteem, and, permit me to say, Affection, which I shall always have for your Lordship, makes it Painful to me to see you engaged in conducting a War, the great Ground of which, as expressed in your Letter, is "the necessity of preventing the American trade from passing into foreign Channels." To me it seems, that neither the Obtaining or Retaining of any trade, how valuable soever, is an Object for which men may justly spill each other's Blood; that the true and sure Means of extending and securing Commerce is the goodness and Cheapness of Commodities; and that the profit of no trade can ever be equal to the Expence of compelling it, and of holding it, by Fleets and Armies.
I consider this War against us, therefore, as both unjust and unwise; and I am persuaded, that cool, dispassionate Posterity will condemn to Infamy those who advised it; and that even Success will not save from some Degree of Dishonor those, who voluntarily engaged to Conduct it. I know your great motive in coming hither was the hope of being Instrumental in a Reconciliation; and I believe, when you find _that_ to be impossible on any Terms given you to propose, you will relinquish so odious a Command, and return to a more honourable private Station.
With the greatest and most sincere Respect, I have the Honour to be, my Lord, your Lordship's most obedient humble Servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
THE SALE OF THE HESSIANS[88]
FROM THE COUNT DE SCHAUMBERGH TO THE BARON HOHENDORF, COMMANDING THE HESSIAN TROOPS IN AMERICA
Rome, February 18, 1777.
MONSIEUR LE BARON:--
On my return from Naples, I received at Rome your letter of the 27th December of last year. I have learned with unspeakable pleasure the courage our troops exhibited at Trenton, and you cannot imagine my joy on being told that of the 1,950 Hessians engaged in the fight, but 345 escaped. There were just 1,605 men killed, and I cannot sufficiently commend your prudence in sending an exact list of the dead to my minister in London. This precaution was the more necessary, as the report sent to the English ministry does not give but 1,455 dead. This would make 483,450 florins instead of 643,500 which I am entitled to demand under our convention. You will comprehend the prejudice which such an error would work in my finances, and I do not doubt you will take the necessary pains to prove that Lord North's list is false and yours correct.
The court of London objects that there were a hundred wounded who ought not to be included in the list, nor paid for as dead; but I trust you will not overlook my instructions to you on quitting Cassel, and that you will not have tried by human succor to recall the life of the unfortunates whose days could not be lengthened but by the loss of a leg or an arm. That would be making them a pernicious present, and I am sure they would rather die than live in a condition no longer fit for my service. I do not mean by this that you should assassinate them; we should be humane, my dear Baron, but you may insinuate to the surgeons with entire propriety that a crippled man is a reproach to their profession, and that there is no wiser course than to let every one of them die when he ceases to be fit to fight.
I am about to send to you some new recruits. Don't economize them. Remember glory before all things. Glory is true wealth. There is nothing degrades the soldier like the love of money. He must care only for honour and reputation, but this reputation must be acquired in the midst of dangers. A battle gained without costing the conqueror any blood is an inglorious success, while the conquered cover themselves with glory by perishing with their arms in their hands. Do you remember that of the 300 Lacedæmonians who defended the defile of Thermopylae, not one returned? How happy should I be could I say the same of my brave Hessians!
It is true that their king, Leonidas, perished with them: but things have changed, and it is no longer the custom for princes of the empire to go and fight in America for a cause with which they have no concern. And besides, to whom should they pay the thirty guineas per man if I did not stay in Europe to receive them? Then, it is necessary also that I be ready to send recruits to replace the men you lose. For this purpose I must return to Hesse. It is true, grown men are becoming scarce there, but I will send you boys. Besides, the scarcer the commodity the higher the price. I am assured that the women and little girls have begun to till our lands, and they get on not badly. You did right to send back to Europe that Dr. Crumerus who was so successful in curing dysentery. Don't bother with a man who is subject to looseness of the bowels. That disease makes bad soldiers. One coward will do more mischief in an engagement than ten brave men will do good. Better that they burst in their barracks than fly in a battle, and tarnish the glory of our arms. Besides, you know that they pay me as killed for all who die from disease, and I don't get a farthing for runaways. My trip to Italy, which has cost me enormously, makes it desirable that there should be a great mortality among them. You will therefore promise promotion to all who expose themselves; you will exhort them to seek glory in the midst of dangers; you will say to Major Maundorff that I am not at all content with his saving the 345 men who escaped the massacre of Trenton. Through the whole campaign he has not had ten men killed in consequence of his orders. Finally, let it be your principal object to prolong the war and avoid a decisive engagement on either side, for I have made arrangements for a grand Italian opera, and I do not wish to be obliged to give it up. Meantime I pray God, my dear Baron de Hohendorf, to have you in his holy and gracious keeping.
MODEL OF A LETTER OF RECOMMENDATION[89]
Paris, April 2, 1777.
SIR:--
The bearer of this, who is going to America, presses me to give him a Letter of Recommendation, tho' I know nothing of him, not even his Name. This may seem extraordinary, but I assure you it is not uncommon here. Sometimes, indeed one unknown Person brings another equally unknown, to recommend him; and sometimes they recommend one another! As to this Gentleman, I must refer you to himself for his Character and Merits, with which he is certainly better acquainted than I can possibly be. I recommend him however to those Civilities, which every Stranger, of whom one knows no Harm, has a Right to; and I request you will do him all the good Offices, and show him all the Favour that, on further Acquaintance, you shall find him to deserve. I have the Honour to be, etc.
[B. F.]
TO --------
Passy, Oct. 4, 1777.
SIR,
I am much obliged by your communication of the letter from England. I am of your opinion, that it is not proper for publication here. Our friend's expressions concerning Mr. Wilson, will be thought too angry to be made use of by one philosopher when speaking of another, and on a philosophical question. He seems as much heated about this _one point_, as the Jansenists and Molinists were about the _five_. As to my writing any thing on the subject, which you seem to desire, I think it not necessary, especially as I have nothing to add to what I have already said upon it in a paper read to the committee, who ordered the conductors at Purfleet; which paper is printed in the last French edition of my writings.
I have never entered into any controversy in defence of my philosophical opinions; I leave them to take their chance in the world. If they are _right_, truth and experience will support them; if _wrong_, they ought to be refuted and rejected. Disputes are apt to sour one's temper, and disturb one's quiet. I have no private interest in the reception of my inventions by the world, having never made, nor proposed to make, the least profit by any of them. The King's changing his _pointed_ conductors for _blunt_ ones is, therefore, a matter of small importance to me. If I had a wish about it, it would be that he had rejected them altogether as ineffectual. For it is only since he thought himself and family safe from the thunder of Heaven, that he dared to use his own thunder in destroying his innocent subjects.[90] I am, Sir, yours, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
TO DAVID HARTLEY[91]
Passy, Oct. 14, 1777.
_Dear Sir_,
I received duly your letter of May 2, 1777, including a copy of one you had sent me the year before, which never came to hand, and which it seems has been the case with some I wrote to you from America. Filled tho' our letters have always been with sentiments of good will to both countries, and earnest desires of preventing their ruin and promoting their mutual felicity, I have been apprehensive, that, if it were known that a correspondence subsisted between us, it might be attended with inconvenience to you. I have therefore been backward in writing, not caring to trust the post, and not well knowing whom else to trust with my letters. But being now assured of a safe conveyance, I venture to write to you, especially as I think the subject such an one as you may receive a letter upon without censure.
Happy should I have been, if the honest warnings I gave, of the fatal separation of interests, as well as of affections, that must attend the measures commenced while I was in England, had been attended to, and the horrid mischief of this abominable war been thereby prevented. I should still be happy in any successful endeavours for restoring peace, consistent with the liberties, the safety, and honour of America. As to our submitting to the government of Great Britain, it is vain to think of it. She has given us, by her numberless barbarities in the prosecution of the war, and in the treatment of prisoners, by her malice in bribing slaves to murder their masters, and savages to massacre the families of farmers, with her baseness in rewarding the unfaithfulness of servants, and debauching the virtue of honest seamen, intrusted with our property, so deep an impression of her depravity, that we never again can trust her in the management of our affairs and interests. It is now impossible to persuade our people, as I long endeavoured, that the war was merely ministerial, and that the nation bore still a good will to us. The infinite number of addresses printed in your gazettes, all approving this conduct of your government towards us, and encouraging our destruction by every possible means, the great majority in Parliament constantly manifesting the same sentiments, and the popular public rejoicings on occasion of any news of the slaughter of an innocent and virtuous people, fighting only in defence of their just rights; these, together with the recommendations of the same measures by even your celebrated moralists and divines, in their writings and sermons, that are cited approved and applauded in your great national assemblies; all join in convincing us, that you are no longer the magnanimous and enlightened nation, we once esteemed you, and that you are unfit and unworthy to govern us, as not being able to govern your own passions.
But, as I have said, I should be nevertheless happy in seeing peace restored. For tho', if my friends and the friends of liberty and virtue, who still remain in England, could be drawn out of it, a continuance of this war to the ruin of the rest would give me less concern, I cannot, as that removal is impossible, but wish for peace for their sakes, as well as for the sake of humanity, and preventing further carnage.
This wish of mine, ineffective as it may be, induces me to mention to you, that, between nations long exasperated against each other in war, some act of generosity and kindness towards prisoners on one side has softened resentment, and abated animosity on the other, so as to bring on an accommodation. You in England, if you wish for peace, have at present the opportunity of trying this means, with regard to the prisoners now in your goals [_sic_]. They complain of very severe treatment. They are far from their friends and families, and winter is coming on, in which they must suffer extremely, if continued in their present situation; fed scantily on bad provisions, without warm lodging, clothes, or fire, and not suffered to invite or receive visits from their friends, or even from the humane and charitable of their enemies.
I can assure you, from my own certain knowledge, that your people, prisoners in America, have been treated with great kindness; they have been served with the same rations of wholesome provisions with our own troops, comfortable lodgings have been provided for them, and they have been allowed large bounds of villages in a healthy air, to walk and amuse themselves with on their parole. Where you have thought fit to employ contractors to supply your people, these contractors have been protected and aided in their operations. Some considerable act of kindness towards our people would take off the reproach of inhumanity in that respect from the nation, and leave it where it ought with more certainty to lay, on the conductors of your war in America. This I hint to you, out of some remaining good will to a nation I once sincerely loved. But, as things are, and in my present temper of mind, not being over fond of receiving obligations, I shall content myself with proposing, that your government would allow us to send or employ a commissary to take some care of those unfortunate people. Perhaps on your representations this might speedily be obtained in England, though it was refused most inhumanly at New York.
If you could have leisure to visit the goals [_sic_] in which they are confined, and should be desirous of knowing the truth relative to the treatment they receive, I wish you would take the trouble of distributing among the most necessitous according to their wants, two or three hundred pounds, for which your drafts on me here shall be punctually honour'd. You could then be able to speak with some certainty to the point in Parliament, and this might be attended with good effect.
If you cannot obtain for us permission to send a commissary, possibly you may find a trusty, humane, discreet person at Plymouth, and another at Portsmouth, who would undertake to communicate what relief we may be able to afford those unhappy, brave men, martyrs to the cause of liberty. [Your King will not reward you for taking this trouble, but God will.] I shall not mention the good will of America; you have what is better, the applause of your own good conscience. Our captains have set at liberty above 200 of your people, made prisoners by our armed vessels and brought into France, besides a great number dismissed at sea on your coasts, to whom vessels were given to carry them in: But you have not returned us a man in exchange. If we had sold your people to the Moors at Sallee, as you have many of ours to the African and East India Companies, could you have complained?
In revising what I have written, I found too much warmth in it, and was about to strike out some parts. Yet I let them go, as they will afford you this one reflection; "If a man naturally cool, and render'd still cooler by old age, is so warmed by our treatment of his country, how much must those people in general be exasperated against us? And why are we making inveterate enemies by our barbarity, not only of the present inhabitants of a great country, but of their infinitely more numerous posterity; who will in future ages detest the name of _Englishman_, as much as the children in Holland now do those of _Alva_ and _Spaniard_." This will certainly happen, unless your conduct is speedily changed, and the national resentment falls where it ought to [fall] heavily, on your ministry, [or perhaps rather on the King, whose will they only execute].
With the greatest esteem and affection, and best wishes for your prosperity, I have the honour to be, dear Sir, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
A DIALOGUE BETWEEN BRITAIN, FRANCE, SPAIN, HOLLAND, SAXONY AND AMERICA [92]
_Britain._ Sister of Spain, I have a Favour to ask of you. My Subjects in America are disobedient, and I am about to chastize them; I beg you will not furnish them with any Arms or Ammunition.
_Spain._ Have you forgotten, then, that when my Subjects in the Low Countries rebelled against me, you not only furnish'd them with military Stores, but join'd them with an Army and a Fleet? I wonder how you can have the Impudence to ask such a Favour of me, or the Folly to expect it!
_Britain._ You, my dear Sister of France, will surely not refuse me this Favour.
_France._ Did you not assist my Rebel Hugenots with a Fleet and an Army at Rochelle? And have you not lately aided privately and sneakingly my Rebel Subjects in Corsica? And do you not at this Instant keep their Chief, pension'd, and ready to head a fresh Revolt there, whenever you can find or make an Opportunity? Dear Sister, you must be a little silly!
_Britain._ Honest Holland! You see it is remembered that I was once your Friend; you will therefore be mine on this Occasion. I know, indeed, you are accustom'd to smuggle with these Rebels of mine. I will wink at that; sell 'em as much Tea as you please, to enervate the Rascals, since they will not take it of me; but for God's sake don't supply them with any Arms!
_Holland._ 'Tis true you assisted me against Philip, my Tyrant of Spain, but have I not assisted you against one of your Tyrants;[H] and enabled you to expell him? Surely that Accompt, as we Merchants say, is _ballanced_, and I am nothing in your Debt. I have indeed some Complaints against _you_, for endeavouring to starve me by your _Navigation Acts_; but, being peaceably dispos'd, I do not quarrel with you for that. I shall only go on quietly with my own Business. Trade is my Profession: 't is all I have to subsist on. And, let me tell you, I shall make no scruple (on the prospect of a good Market for that Commodity) even to send my ships to Hell and supply the Devil with Brimstone. For you must know, I can insure in London against the Burning of my Sails.
[H] James 2d. [_Franklin's note._]
_America to Britain._ Why, you old bloodthirsty Bully! You who have been everywhere vaunting your own Prowess, and defaming the Americans as poltroons! You who have boasted of being able to march over all their Bellies with a single Regiment! You who by Fraud have possessed yourself of their strongest Fortress, and all the arms they had stored up in it! You who have a disciplin'd Army in their Country, intrench'd to the Teeth, and provided with every thing! Do _you_ run about begging all Europe not to supply those poor People with a little Powder and Shot? Do you mean, then, to fall upon them naked and unarm'd, and butcher them in cold Blood? Is this your Courage? Is this your Magnanimity?
_Britain._ Oh! you wicked--Whig--Presbyterian--Serpent! Have you the Impudence to appear before me after all your Disobedience? Surrender immediately all your Liberties and Properties into my Hands, or I will cut you to Pieces. Was it for this that I planted your country at so great an Expence? That I protected you in your Infancy, and defended you against all your Enemies?
_America._ I shall not surrender my Liberty and Property, but with my Life. It is not true, that my Country was planted at your expence. Your own Records refute that Falshood to your Face. Nor did you ever afford me a Man or a Shilling to defend me against the Indians, the only Enemies I had upon my own Account. But, when you have quarrell'd with all Europe, and drawn me with you into all your Broils, then you value yourself upon protecting me from the Enemies you have made for me. I have no natural Cause of Difference with Spain, France, or Holland, and yet by turns I have join'd with you in Wars against them all. You would not suffer me to make or keep a separate Peace with any of them, tho' I might easily have done it to great Advantage. Does your protecting me in those Wars give you a Right to fleece me? If so, as I fought for you, as well as you for me, it gives me a proportionable Right to fleece you. What think you of an American Law to make a Monopoly of you and your Commerce, as you have done by your Laws of me and mine? Content yourself with that Monopoly if you are Wise, and learn Justice if you would be respected!
_Britain._ You impudent b----h! Am not I your Mother Country? Is that not a sufficient Title to your Respect and Obedience?
_Saxony._ _Mother country!_ Hah, hah, he! What Respect have _you_ the front to claim as a Mother Country? You know that _I_ am _your_ Mother Country, and yet you pay me none. Nay, it is but the other day, that you hired Ruffians[I] to rob me on the Highway,[J] and burn my House![K] For shame! Hide your Face and hold your Tongue. If you continue this Conduct, you will make yourself the Contempt of Europe!
[I] Prussians.
[J] They enter'd and rais'd Contributions in Saxony.
[K] And they burnt the fine Suburbs of Dresden, the Capital of Saxony. [_Franklin's notes._]
_Britain._ O Lord! Where are my friends?
_France, Spain, Holland, and Saxony, all together._ Friends! Believe us, you have none, nor ever will have any, 'till you mend your Manners. How can we, who are your Neighbours, have any regard for you, or expect any Equity from you, should your Power increase, when we see how basely and unjustly you have us'd both your _own Mother and your own Children_?
TO CHARLES DE WEISSENSTEIN[93]
Passy, July 1, 1778.
SIR,
I received your letter, dated at Brussels the 16th past. My vanity might possibly be nattered by your expressions of compliment to my understanding, if your _proposals_ did not more clearly manifest a mean opinion of it.
You conjure me, in the name of the omniscient and just God, before whom I must appear, and by my hopes of future fame, to consider if some expedient cannot be found to put a stop to the desolation of America, and prevent the miseries of a general war. As I am conscious of having taken every step in my power to prevent the breach, and no one to widen it, I can appear cheerfully before that God, fearing nothing from his justice in this particular, though I have much occasion for his mercy in many others. As to my future fame, I am content to rest it on my past and present conduct, without seeking an addition to it in the crooked, dark paths, you propose to me, where I should most certainly lose it. This your solemn address would therefore have been more properly made to your sovereign and his venal Parliament. He and they, who wickedly began, and madly continue, a war for the desolation of America, are alone accountable for the consequences.
You endeavour to impress me with a bad opinion of French faith; but the instances of their friendly endeavours to serve a race of weak princes, who, by their own imprudence, defeated every attempt to promote their interest, weigh but little with me, when I consider the steady friendship of France to the Thirteen United States of Switzerland, which has now continued inviolate two hundred years. You tell me, that she will certainly cheat us, and that she despises us already. I do not believe that she will cheat us, and I am not certain that she despises us; but I see clearly that you are endeavouring to cheat us by your conciliatory bills; that you actually despised our understandings, when you flattered yourselves those artifices would succeed; and that not only France, but all Europe, yourselves included, most certainly and for ever would despise us, if we were weak enough to accept your insidious propositions.
Our expectations of the future grandeur of America are not so magnificent, and therefore not so vain or visionary, as you represent them to be. The body of our people are not merchants, but humble husbandmen, who delight in the cultivation of their lands, which, from their fertility and the variety of our climates, are capable of furnishing all the necessaries and conveniences of life without external commerce; and we have too much land to have the least temptation to extend our territory by conquest from peaceable neighbours, as well as too much justice to think of it. Our militia, you find by experience, are sufficient to defend our lands from invasion; and the commerce with us will be defended by all the nations who find an advantage in it. We, therefore, have not the occasion you imagine, of fleets or standing armies, but may leave those expensive machines to be maintained for the pomp of princes, and the wealth of ancient states. We propose, if possible, to live in peace with all mankind; and after you have been convinced, to your cost, that there is nothing to be got by attacking us, we have reason to hope, that no other power will judge it prudent to quarrel with us, lest they divert us from our own quiet industry, and turn us into corsairs preying upon theirs. The weight therefore of an independent empire, which you seem certain of our inability to bear, will not be so great as you imagine. The expense of our civil government we have always borne, and can easily bear, because it is small. A virtuous and laborious people may be cheaply governed. Determining, as we do, to have no offices of profit, nor any sinecures or useless appointments, so common in ancient or corrupted states, we can govern ourselves a year, for the sum you pay in a single department, or for what one jobbing contractor, by the favour of a minister, can cheat you out of in a single article.
You think we flatter ourselves, and are deceived into an opinion that England _must_ acknowledge our independency. We, on the other hand, think you flatter yourselves in imagining such an acknowledgment a vast boon, which we strongly desire, and which you may gain some great advantage by granting or withholding. We have never asked it of you; we only tell you, that you can have no treaty with us but as an independent state; and you may please yourselves and your children with the rattle of your right to govern us, as long as you have done with that of your King's being King of France, without giving us the least concern, if you do not attempt to exercise it. That this pretended right is indisputable, as you say, we utterly deny. Your Parliament never had a right to govern us, and your King has forfeited it by his bloody tyranny. But I thank you for letting me know a little of your mind, that, even if the Parliament should acknowledge our independency, the act would not be binding to posterity, and that your nation would resume and prosecute the claim as soon as they found it convenient from the influence of your passions, and your present malice against us. We suspected before, that you would not be actually bound by your conciliatory acts, longer than till they had served their purpose of inducing us to disband our forces; but we were not certain, that you were knaves by principle, and that we ought not to have the least confidence in your offers, promises, or treaties, though confirmed by Parliament.
I now indeed recollect my being informed, long since, when in England, that a certain very great personage, then young, studied much a certain book, called _Arcana Imperii_.[94] I had the curiosity to procure the book and read it. There are sensible and good things in it, but some bad ones; for, if I remember rightly, a particular king is applauded for his politically exciting a rebellion among his subjects, at a time when they had not strength to support it, that he might, in subduing them, take away their privileges, which were troublesome to him; and a question is formally stated and discussed, _Whether a prince, who, to appease a revolt, makes promises of indemnity to the revolters, is obliged to fulfil those promises._ Honest and good men would say, Ay; but this politician says, as you say, No. And he gives this pretty reason, that, though it was right to make the promises, because otherwise the revolt would not be suppressed, yet it would be wrong to keep them, because revolters ought to be punished to deter from future revolts.
If these are the principles of your nation, no confidence can be placed in you; it is in vain to treat with you; and the wars can only end in being reduced to an utter inability of continuing them.
One main drift of your letter seems to be, to impress me with an idea of your own impartiality, by just censures of your ministers and measures, and to draw from me propositions of peace, or approbations of those you have enclosed to me which you intimate may by your means be conveyed to the King directly, without the intervention of those ministers. You would have me give them to, or drop them for, a stranger, whom I may find next Monday in the church of Notre Dame, to be known by a rose in his hat. You yourself, Sir, are quite unknown to me; you have not trusted me with your true name. Our taking the least step towards a treaty with England through you, might, if you are an enemy, be made use of to ruin us with our new and good friends. I may be indiscreet enough in many things; but certainly, if I were disposed to make propositions (which I cannot do, having none committed to me to make), I should never think of delivering them to the Lord knows who, to be carried to the Lord knows where, to serve no one knows what purposes. Being at this time one of the most remarkable figures in Paris, even my appearance in the church of Notre Dame, where I cannot have any conceivable business, and especially being seen to leave or drop any letter to any person there, would be a matter of some speculation, and might, from the suspicions it must naturally give, have very mischievous consequences to our credit here.
The very proposing of a correspondence so to be managed, in a manner not necessary where fair dealing is intended, gives just reason to suppose you intend the contrary. Besides, as your court has sent Commissioners to treat with the Congress, with all the powers that could be given them by the crown under the act of Parliament, what good purpose can be served by privately obtaining propositions from us? Before those Commissioners went, we might have treated in virtue of our general powers, (with the knowledge, advice, and approbation of our friends), upon any propositions made to us. But, under the present circumstances, for us to make propositions, while a treaty is supposed to be actually on foot with the Congress, would be extremely improper, highly presumptuous with regard to our constituents, and answer no good end whatever.
I write this letter to you, notwithstanding; (which I think I can convey in a less mysterious manner, and guess it may come to your hands;) I write it because I would let you know our sense of your procedure, which appears as insidious as that of your conciliatory bills. Your true way to obtain peace, if your ministers desire it, is, to propose openly to the Congress fair and equal terms, and you may possibly come sooner to such a resolution, when you find, that personal flatteries, general cajolings, and panegyrics on our _virtue_ and _wisdom_ are not likely to have the effect you seem to expect; the persuading us to act basely and foolishly, in betraying our country and posterity into the hands of our most bitter enemies, giving up or selling our arms and warlike stores, dismissing our ships of war and troops, and putting those enemies in possession of our forts and ports.
This proposition of delivering ourselves, bound and gagged, ready for hanging, without even a right to complain, and without a friend to be found afterwards among all mankind, you would have us embrace upon the faith of an act of Parliament! Good God! an act of your Parliament! This demonstrates that you do not yet know us, and that you fancy we do not know you; but it is not merely this flimsy faith, that we are to act upon; you offer us _hope_, the hope of PLACES, PENSIONS, and PEERAGES. These, judging from yourselves, you think are motives irresistible. This offer to corrupt us, Sir, is with me your credential, and convinces me that you are not a private volunteer in your application. It bears the stamp of British court character. It is even the signature of your King. But think for a moment in what light it must be viewed in America. By PLACES, you mean places among us, for you take care by a special article to secure your own to yourselves. We must then pay the salaries in order to enrich ourselves with these places. But you will give us PENSIONS, probably to be paid too out of your expected American revenue, and which none of us can accept without deserving, and perhaps obtaining, a SUS-_pension_. PEERAGES! alas! Sir, our long observation of the vast servile majority of your peers, voting constantly for every measure proposed by a minister, however weak or wicked, leaves us small respect for that title. We consider it as a sort of _tar-and-feather_ honour, or a mixture of foulness and folly, which every man among us, who should accept it from your King, would be obliged to renounce, or exchange for that conferred by the mobs of their own country, or wear it with everlasting infamy. I am, Sir, your humble Servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
THE EPHEMERA[95]
_An Emblem of Human Life_
[1778]
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 ephemera, 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 national 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, seemingly as regardless of the shortness of 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 subject of contention but the perfections and imperfections of foreign music. I turned my head from them to an old grey-headed one, who was single on another leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his soliloquy, I put it down in writing, in hopes it will likewise amuse her to whom I am so much indebted for the most pleasing of all amusements, her delicious company and heavenly harmony.
"It was," said 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 life to all nature, and which in my time has evidently declined considerably towards the ocean at the end of our earth, it must then finish its course, be extinguished in the waters that surround us, and leave the world in cold and darkness, necessarily producing universal death and destruction. I have lived seven of those hours, a great age, being no less than four hundred and twenty 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 grandchildren of the friends of my youth, who are now, alas, no more! And I must soon follow them; for, by the course of nature, though still in health, I cannot 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 the political struggles I have been engaged in, for the good of my compatriot inhabitants of this bush, or my philosophical studies for the benefit of our race in general! for, in politics, what can laws do without morals? Our present race of ephemeræ will in a course of minutes become corrupt, like those of other and older bushes, and consequently as wretched. And in philosophy how small our progress! Alas! art is long, and life is short! My friends would comfort me with the idea of a name, they say, I shall leave behind me; and they tell me I have lived long enough to nature and to glory. But what will fame be to an ephemera 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 buried in universal ruin?"
To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures now remain, but the reflection of a long life spent in meaning well, the sensible conversation of a few good lady ephemeræ, and now and then a kind smile and a tune from the ever amiable _Brillante_.
B. FRANKLIN.
TO RICHARD BACHE
Passy, June 2, 1779.
--I am very easy about the efforts Messrs. Lee and Izard are using, as you tell me, to injure me on that side of the water. I trust in the justice of the Congress, that they will listen to no accusations against me, that I have not first been acquainted with, and had an opportunity of answering. I know those gentlemen have plenty of ill will to me, though I have never done to either of them the smallest injury, or given the least just cause of offence. But my too great reputation, and the general good will this people have for me, and the respect they show me, and even the compliments they make me, all grieve those unhappy gentlemen; unhappy indeed in their tempers, and in the dark, uncomfortable passions of jealousy, anger, suspicion, envy, and malice. It is enough for good minds to be affected at other people's misfortunes; but they, that are vexed at everybody's good luck, can never be happy. I take no other revenge of such enemies, than to let them remain in the miserable situation in which their malignant natures have placed them, by endeavouring to support an estimable character; and thus, by continuing the reputation the world has hitherto indulged me with, I shall continue them in their present state of damnation; and I am not disposed to reverse my conduct for the alleviation of their torments.
I am surprised to hear, that my grandson, Temple Franklin, being with me, should be an objection against me, and that there is a cabal for removing him.[96] Methinks it is rather some merit, that I have rescued a valuable young man from the danger of being a Tory, and fixed him in honest republican Whig principles; as I think, from the integrity of his disposition, his industry, his early sagacity, and uncommon abilities for business, he may in time become of great service to his country. It is enough that I have lost my _son_; would they add my _grandson_? An old man of seventy, I undertook a winter voyage at the command of the Congress, and for the public service, with no other attendant to take care of me. I am continued here in a foreign country, where, if I am sick, his filial attention comforts me, and, if I die, I have a child to close my eyes and take care of my remains. His dutiful behaviour towards me, and his diligence and fidelity in business, are both pleasing and useful to me. His conduct, as my private secretary, has been unexceptionable, and I am confident the Congress will never think of separating us.
I have had a great deal of pleasure in Ben too.[97] He is a good, honest lad, and will make, I think, a valuable man. He had made as much proficiency in his learning, as the boarding school he was at could well afford him; and, after some consideration where to find a better for him, I at length fixed on sending him to Geneva. I had a good opportunity by a gentleman of that city; who had a place for him in his chaise, and has a son about the same age at the same school. He promised to take care of him, and enclosed I send you the letters I have since received relating to him and from him. He went very cheerfully, and I understand is very happy. I miss his company on Sundays at dinner. But, if I live, and I can find a little leisure, I shall make the journey next spring to see him, and to see at the same time _the old thirteen United States_ of Switzerland.
Thanks be to God, I continue well and hearty. Undoubtedly I grow older, but I think the last ten years have made no great difference. I have sometimes the gout, but they say that is not so much a disease as a remedy. God bless you. I am your affectionate father,
B. FRANKLIN.
MORALS OF CHESS[98]
[1779]
[Playing at chess is the most ancient and most universal game known among men; for its original is beyond the memory of history, and it has, for numberless ages, been the amusement of all the civilised nations of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and the Chinese. Europe has had it above a thousand years; the Spaniards have spread it over their part of America; and it has lately begun to make its appearance in the United States. It is so interesting in itself, as not to need the view of gain to induce engaging in it; and thence it is seldom played for money. Those therefore who have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one that is more innocent: and the following piece, written with a view to correct (among a few young friends) some little improprieties in the practice of it, shows at the same time that it may, in its effects on the mind, be not merely innocent, but advantageous, to the vanquished as well as the victor.]
The Game of Chess is not merely an idle Amusement. Several very valuable qualities of the Mind, useful in the course of human Life, are to be acquir'd or strengthened by it, so as to become habits, ready on all occasions. For Life is a kind of Chess, in which we often have Points to gain, & Competitors or Adversaries to contend with; and in which there is a vast variety of good and ill Events, that are in some degree the Effects of Prudence or the want of it. By playing at Chess, then, we may learn,
I. _Foresight_, which looks a little into futurity, and considers the Consequences that may attend an action; for it is continually occurring to the Player, "If I move this piece, what will be the advantages or disadvantages of my new situation? What Use can my Adversary make of it to annoy me? What other moves can I make to support it, and to defend myself from his attacks?"
II. _Circumspection_, which surveys the whole Chessboard, or scene of action; the relations of the several pieces and situations, the Dangers they are respectively exposed to, the several possibilities of their aiding each other, the probabilities that the Adversary may make this or that move, and attack this or the other Piece, and what different Means can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences against him.
III. _Caution_, not to make our moves too hastily. This habit is best acquired, by observing strictly the laws of the Game; such as, _If you touch a Piece, you must move it somewhere; if you set it down, you must let it stand_. And it is therefore best that these rules should be observed, as the Game becomes thereby more the image of human Life, and particularly of War; in which, if you have incautiously put yourself 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 discouraged by present appearances in the state of our affairs, the habit of hoping for a favourable Change, and that of persevering in the search of resources. The Game is so full of Events, there is such a variety of turns in it, the Fortune of it is so subject to sudden 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 hopes of Victory from our own skill, or at least [of getting a stale mate] from the Negligence of our Adversary. And whoever considers, what in Chess he often sees instances of, that [particular pieces of] success is [are] apt to produce Presumption, & its consequent Inattention, by which more is afterwards lost than was gain'd by the preceding Advantage, while misfortunes produce more care and attention, by which the loss may be recovered, will learn not to be too much discouraged by any 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 chuse this beneficial amusement, in preference to others which are not attended with the same advantages, every Circumstance that may increase the pleasure of it should be regarded; and every action or word that is unfair, disrespectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should be avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both the Players, which is to pass the Time agreably.
Therefore, first, if it is agreed to play according to the strict rules, then those rules are to be exactly observed by both parties, and should not be insisted on for one side, while deviated from by the other--for this is not equitable.
Secondly, if it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, but one party demands indulgencies, 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 difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected in such unfair practice.
Fourthly, if your adversary is long in playing, you ought not to hurry him, or express any uneasiness at his delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your 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 endeavour to amuse and deceive your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying that you have now lost the game, in order to make him secure and careless, and inattentive to your schemes: for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the game.
Sixthly, you must not, when you have gained a victory, use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too much pleasure; but endeavour to console your adversary, and make him less dissatisfied with himself, by every kind of civil expression that may be used with truth, such as, "you understand the game better than I, but you are a little inattentive;" or, "you play too fast;" or, "you had the best of the game, but something happened to divert your thoughts, and that turned it in my favour."
Seventhly, if you are a spectator while others play, observe the most perfect silence. For, if you give advice, you offend both parties, him against whom you give it, because it may cause the loss of his game, him in whose favour you give it, because, though it be good, and he follows it, he loses the pleasure he might have had, if you had permitted him to think until it had occurred to himself. Even after a move or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, show how they might have been placed better; for that displeases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about their true situation. All talking to the players lessens or diverts their 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 criticizing, or meddling with, or counselling the play of others.
Lastly, if the game is not to be played rigorously, according to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your desire of victory over your adversary, and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage offered by his unskilfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly, that by such a move he places or leaves a piece in danger and unsupported; that by another he will put his king in a perilous situation, &c. By this generous civility (so opposite to the unfairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to lose the game to your opponent; but you will win what is better, his esteem, his respect, and his affection, together with the silent approbation and good-will of impartial spectators.
TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN
Passy, Nov. 9, 1779.
DEAR SIR,
I have received several kind Letters from you, which I have not regularly answered. They gave me however great Pleasure, as they acquainted me with your Welfare, and that of your Family and other Friends; and I hope you will continue writing to me as often as you can do it conveniently.
I thank you much for the great Care and Pains you have taken in regulating and correcting the Edition of those Papers. Your Friendship for me appears in almost every Page; and if the Preservation of any of them should prove of Use to the Publick, it is to you that the Publick will owe the Obligation. In looking them over, I have noted some Faults of Impression that hurt the Sense, and some other little Matters, which you will find all in a Sheet under the title of _Errata_. You can best judge whether it may be worth while to add any of them to the Errata already printed, or whether it may not be as well to reserve the whole for Correction in another Edition, if such should ever be. Inclos'd I send a more perfect copy of the _Chapter_.[99]
If I should ever recover the Pieces that were in the Hands of my Son, and those I left among my Papers in America, I think there may be enough to make three more such Volumes, of which a great part would be more interesting.
As to the _Time_ of publishing, of which you ask my Opinion I am not furnish'd with any Reasons, or Ideas of Reasons, on which to form any Opinion. Naturally I should suppose the Bookseller to be from Experience the best Judge, and I should be for leaving it to him.
I did not write the Pamphlet you mention. I know nothing of it. I suppose it is the same, concerning which Dr. Priestley formerly asked me the same Question. That for which he took it was intitled, _A Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain_, with these Lines in the Title Page.
"Whatever is, is right. But purblind Man Sees but a part o' the Chain, the nearest Link; His Eye not carrying to that equal Beam, That poises all above." DRYDEN.
_London, Printed M. D. C. C. X. X. V._
It was addressed to Mr. J. R., that is, James Ralph, then a youth of about my age, and my intimate friend; afterwards a political writer and historian. The purport of it was to prove the doctrine of fate, from the supposed attributes of God; in some such manner as this: that in erecting and governing the world, as he was infinitely wise, he knew what would be best; infinitely good, he must be disposed, and infinitely powerful, he must be able to execute it: consequently all is right. There were only an hundred copies printed, of which I gave a few to friends, and afterwards disliking the piece, as conceiving it might have an ill tendency, I burnt the rest, except one copy, the margin of which was filled with manuscript notes by Lyons, author of the Infallibility of Human Judgment, who was at that time another of my acquaintance in London. I was not nineteen years of age when it was written. In 1730, I wrote a piece on the other side of the question, which began with laying for its foundation this fact: "That almost all men in all ages and countries, have at times made use of prayer." Thence I reasoned, that if all things are ordained, prayer must among the rest be ordained. But as prayer can produce no change in things that are ordained, praying must then be useless and an absurdity. God would therefore not ordain praying if everything else was ordained. But praying exists, therefore all things are not ordained, etc. This pamphlet was never printed, and the manuscript has been long lost. The great uncertainty I found in metaphysical reasonings disgusted me, and I quitted that kind of reading and study for others more satisfactory.
I return the Manuscripts you were so obliging as to send me; I am concern'd at your having no other copys, I hope these will get safe to your hands. I do not remember the Duke de Chaulnes showing me the Letter you mention. I have received Dr. Crawford's book, but not your Abstract, which I wait for as you desire.
I send you also M. Dupont's _Table Economique_, which I think an excellent Thing, as it contains in a clear Method all the principles of that new sect, called here _les Économistes_.
Poor Henley's dying in that manner is inconceivable to me. Is any Reason given to account for it, besides insanity?
Remember me affectionately to all your good Family, and believe me, with great Esteem, my dear Friend, yours, most sincerely,
B. FRANKLIN.
THE WHISTLE[100]
TO MADAME BRILLON
Passy, November 10, 1779.
I received my dear friend's two letters, one for Wednesday and one for Saturday. This is again Wednesday. I do not deserve one for to-day, because I have not answered the former. But, indolent as I am, and averse to writing, the fear of having no more of your pleasing epistles, if I do not contribute to the correspondence, obliges me to take up my pen; and as Mr. B. has kindly sent me word, that he sets out to-morrow to see you, instead of spending this Wednesday evening as I have done its namesakes, in your delightful company, I sit down to spend it in thinking of you, in writing to you, and in reading over and over again your letters.
I am charmed with your description of Paradise, and with your plan of living there; and I approve much of your conclusion, that, in the mean time, we should draw all the good we can from this world. In my opinion, we might all draw more good from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if we would take care not to give too much for _whistles_. For to me it seems, that most of the unhappy people we meet with, are become so by neglect of that caution.
You ask what I mean? You love stories, and will excuse my telling one of myself.
When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop where they sold toys for children; and, being charmed with the sound of a _whistle_, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered and gave 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 bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth; put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of the money; and laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation; and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the _whistle_ gave me pleasure.
This however was afterwards of use to me, the 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 I saved my money.
As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who _gave too much for the whistle_.
When I saw one too ambitious of court favour, sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, _This man gives too much for his whistle_.
When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect, _He pays, indeed_, said I, _too much for his whistle_.
If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth, _Poor man_, said I, _you pay too much for your whistle_.
When I met with a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal sensations, and ruining his health in their pursuit, _Mistaken man_, said I, _you are providing pain for yourself, instead of pleasure; you give too much for your whistle_.
If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine houses, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his career in a prison, _Alas!_ say I, _he has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle_.
When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married to an ill-natured brute of a husband, _What a pity_, say I, _that she should pay so much for a whistle_!
In short, I conceive that great part of the miseries of mankind are brought upon them by the false estimates they have made of the value of things, and by their _giving too much for their whistles_.
Yet I ought to have charity for these unhappy people, when I consider, that, with all this wisdom of which I am boasting, there are certain things in the world so tempting, for example, the apples of King John, which happily are not to be bought; for if they were put to sale by auction, I might very easily be led to ruin myself in the purchase, and find that I had once more given too much for the _whistle_.
Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever yours very sincerely and with unalterable affection,
B. FRANKLIN.
THE LORD'S PRAYER
[1779?]
OLD VERSION
1. Our Father which art in Heaven,
2. Hallowed be thy Name.
3. Thy Kingdom come.
4. Thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven.
5. Give us this Day our daily Bread.
6. Forgive us our Debts as we forgive our Debtors. And lead us not into Temptation, but deliver us from Evil.
NEW VERSION BY B. F.
1. Heavenly Father,
2. May all revere thee,
3. And become thy dutiful Children and faithful Subjects.
4. May thy Laws be obeyed on Earth as perfectly as they are in Heaven.
5. Provide for us this Day as thou hast hitherto daily done.
6. Forgive us our Trespasses and enable us likewise to forgive those that offend us.
7. Keep us out of Temptation, and deliver us from Evil.--
_Reasons for the Change of Expression_
Old Version. _Our Father which art in Heaven._
New V.--_Heavenly Father_, is more concise, equally expressive, and better modern English.--
Old V.--_Hallowed be thy Name._ This seems to relate to an Observance among the Jews not to pronounce the proper or peculiar Name of God, they deeming it a Profanation so to do. We have in our Language no _proper Name_ for God; the Word _God_ being a common or general Name, expressing all chief Objects of Worship, true or false. The Word _hallowed_ is almost obsolete. People now have but an imperfect Conception of the Meaning of the Petition. It is therefore proposed to change the expression into
New V.--_May all revere thee._
Old V.--_Thy Kingdom come._ This Petition seems suited to the then Condition of the Jewish Nation. Originally their State was a Theocracy. God was their King. Dissatisfied with that kind of Government, they desired a visible earthly King in the manner of the Nations round them. They had such Kings accordingly; but their Offerings were _due_ to God on many Occasions by the Jewish Law, which when People could not pay, or had forgotten as Debtors are apt to do, it was proper to pray that those Debts might be forgiven. Our Liturgy uses neither the _Debtors_ of Matthew, nor the _indebted_ of Luke, but instead of them speaks of _those that trespass against us_. Perhaps the Considering it as a Christian Duty to forgive Debtors, was by the Compilers thought an inconvenient Idea in a trading Nation.--There seems however something presumptuous in this Mode of Expression, which has the Air of proposing ourselves as an Example of Goodness fit for God to imitate. _We hope you will at least be as good as we are_; you see we forgive one another, and therefore we pray that you would forgive us. Some have considered it in another sense, _Forgive us as we forgive others_; i.e. If we do not forgive others we pray that thou wouldst not forgive us. But this being a kind of conditional _Imprecation_ against ourselves, seems improper in such a Prayer; and therefore it may be better to say humbly & modestly
New V.--_Forgive us our Trespasses, and enable us likewise to forgive those that offend us._ This instead of assuming that we have already in & of ourselves the Grace of Forgiveness, acknowledges our Dependance on God, the Fountain of Mercy for any Share we may have in it, praying that he would communicate of it to us.--
Old V.--_And lead us not into Temptation._ The Jews had a Notion, that God sometimes tempted, or directed or permitted the Tempting of People. Thus it was said he tempted Pharaoh; directed Satan to tempt Job; and a false Prophet to tempt Ahab, &c. Under this Persuasion it was natural for them to pray that he would not put them to such severe Trials. We now suppose that Temptation, so far as it is supernatural, comes from the Devil only, and this Petition continued conveys a Suspicion which in our present Conception seems unworthy of God, therefore might be altered to
New V.--_Keep us out of Temptation._ Happiness was not increas'd by the Change, and they had reason to wish and pray for a Return of the Theocracy, or Government of God. Christians in these Times have other Ideas when they speak of the Kingdom of God, such as are perhaps more adequately express'd by
New V.--_And become thy dutiful Children & faithful Subjects._
Old V.--_Thy Will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven._
New V.--_May thy Laws be obeyed on Earth as perfectly as they are in Heaven._
Old V.--_Give us this Day our daily Bread._ Give us what is _ours_, seems to put us in a Claim of Right, and to contain too little of the grateful Acknowledgment and Sense of Dependance that becomes Creatures who live on the daily Bounty of their Creator. Therefore it is changed to
New V.--_Provide for us this Day, as thou hast hitherto daily done._
Old V.--_Forgive us our Debts as we forgive our Debtors._ Matthew.
_Forgive us our Sins, for we also forgive every one that is indebted to us._ Luke.
THE LEVÉE
[1779?]
In the first chapter of Job we have an account of a transaction said to have arisen in the court, or at the _levée_, of the best of all possible princes, or of governments by a single person, viz. that of God himself.
At this _levée_, in which the sons of God were assembled, Satan also appeared.
It is probable the writer of that ancient book took his idea of this _levée_ from those of the eastern monarchs of the age he lived in.
It is to this day usual at the _levées_ of princes, to have persons assembled who are enemies to each other, who seek to obtain favor by whispering calumny and detraction, and thereby ruining those that distinguish themselves by their virtue and merit. And kings frequently ask a familiar question or two, of every one in the circle, merely to show their benignity. These circumstances are particularly exemplified in this relation.
If a modern king, for instance, finds a person in the circle who has not lately been there, he naturally asks him how he has passed his time since he last had the pleasure of seeing him? the gentleman perhaps replies that he has been in the country to view his estates, and visit some friends. Thus Satan being asked whence he cometh? answers, "From going to and fro in the earth, and walking up and down in it." And being further asked, whether he had considered the uprightness and fidelity of the prince's servant Job, he immediately displays all the malignance of the designing courtier, by answering with another question: "Doth Job serve God for naught? Hast thou not given him immense wealth, and protected him in the possession of it? Deprive him of that, and he will curse thee to thy face." In modern phrase, Take away his places and his pensions, and your Majesty will soon find him in the opposition.
This whisper against Job had its effect. He was delivered into the power of his adversary, who deprived him of his fortune, destroyed his family, and completely ruined him.
The book of Job is called by divines a sacred poem, and, with the rest of the Holy Scriptures, is understood to be written for our instruction.
What then is the instruction to be gathered from this supposed transaction?
Trust not a single person with the government of your state. For if the Deity himself, being the monarch may for a time give way to calumny, and suffer it to operate the destruction of the best of subjects; what mischief may you not expect from such power in a mere man, though the best of men, from whom the truth is often industriously hidden, and to whom falsehood is often presented in its place, by artful, interested, and malicious courtiers?
And be cautious in trusting him even with limited powers, lest sooner or later he sap and destroy those limits, and render himself absolute.
For by the disposal of places, he attaches to himself all the placeholders, with their numerous connexions, and also all the expecters and hopers of places, which will form a strong party in promoting his views. By various political engagements for the interest of neighbouring states or princes, he procures their aid in establishing his own personal power. So that, through the hopes of emolument in one part of his subjects, and the fear of his resentment in the other, all opposition falls before him.
PROPOSED NEW VERSION OF THE BIBLE[101]
[1779?]
TO THE PRINTER OF***
SIR,
It is now more than one hundred and seventy years since the translation of our common English Bible. The language in that time is much changed, and the style, being obsolete, and thence less agreeable, is perhaps one reason why the reading of that excellent book is of late so much neglected. I have therefore thought it would be well to procure a new version, in which, preserving the sense, the turn of phrase and manner of expression should be modern. I do not pretend to have the necessary abilities for such a work myself; I throw out the hint for the consideration of the learned; and only venture to send you a few verses of the first chapter of Job, which may serve as a sample of the kind of version I would recommend.
A. B.
PART OF THE FIRST CHAPTER OF JOB MODERNIZED
OLD TEXT
NEW VERSION
Verse 6. Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also amongst them.
Verse 6. And it being _levée_ day in heaven, all God's nobility came to court, to present themselves before him; and Satan also appeared in the circle, as one of the ministry.
7. And the Lord said unto Satan, Whence comest thou? Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking up and down in it.
7. And God said to Satan, You have been some time absent; where were you? And Satan answered[,] I have been at my country-seat, and in different places visiting my friends.
8. And the Lord said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil?
8. And God said, Well, what think you of Lord Job? You see he is my best friend, a perfectly honest man, full of respect for me, and avoiding every thing that might offend me.
9. Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, Doth Job fear God for naught?
9. And Satan answered, Does your Majesty imagine that his good conduct is the effect of mere personal attachment and affection?
10. Hast thou not made an hedge about his house, and about all that he hath on every side? Thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land.
10. Have you not protected him, and heaped your benefits upon him, till he is grown enormously rich?
11. But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face.
11. Try him;--only withdraw your favor, turn him out of his places, and withhold his pensions, and you will soon find him in the opposition.
TO JOSEPH PRIESTLEY
Passy, Feb. 8, 1780.
Dear Sir,
Your kind Letter of September 27 came to hand but very lately, the Bearer having staied long in Holland. I always rejoice to hear of your being still employ'd in experimental Researches into Nature, and of the Success you meet with. The rapid Progress _true_ Science now makes, occasions my regretting sometimes that I was born so soon. It is impossible to imagine the Height to which may be carried, in a thousand years, the Power of Man over Matter. We may perhaps learn to deprive large Masses of their Gravity, and give them absolute Levity, for the sake of easy Transport. Agriculture may diminish its Labour and double its Produce; all Diseases may by sure means be prevented or cured, not excepting even that of Old Age, and our Lives lengthened at pleasure even beyond the antediluvian Standard. O that moral Science were in as fair a way of Improvement, that Men would cease to be Wolves to one another, and that human Beings would at length learn what they now improperly call Humanity![102]
I am glad my little Paper on the _Aurora Borealis_ pleased. If it should occasion further Enquiry, and so produce a better Hypothesis, it will not be wholly useless. I am ever, with the greatest and most sincere Esteem, dear Sir, yours very affectionately
B. FRANKLIN.
TO GEORGE WASHINGTON
Passy, March 5, 1780.
SIR,
I have received but lately the Letter your Excellency did me the honour of writing to me in Recommendation of the Marquis de la Fayette. His modesty detained it long in his own Hands. We became acquainted, however, from the time of his Arrival at Paris; and his Zeal for the Honour of our Country, his Activity in our Affairs here, and his firm Attachment to our Cause and to you, impress'd me with the same Regard and Esteem for him that your Excellency's Letter would have done, had it been immediately delivered to me.
Should peace arrive after another Campaign or two, and afford us a little Leisure, I should be happy to see your Excellency in Europe, and to accompany you, if my Age and Strength would permit, in visiting some of its ancient and most famous Kingdoms. You would, on this side of the Sea, enjoy the great Reputation you have acquir'd, pure and free from those little Shades that the Jealousy and Envy of a Man's Countrymen and Cotemporaries are ever endeavouring to cast over living Merit. Here you would know, and enjoy, what Posterity will say of Washington. For 1000 Leagues have nearly the same Effect with 1000 Years. The feeble Voice of those grovelling Passions cannot extend so far either in Time or Distance. At present I enjoy that Pleasure for you, as I frequently hear the old Generals of this martial Country, (who study the Maps of America, and mark upon them all your Operations,) speak with sincere Approbation and great Applause of your conduct; and join in giving you the Character of one of the greatest Captains of the Age.
I must soon quit the Scene, but you may live to see our Country nourish, as it will amazingly and rapidly after the War is over. Like a Field of young Indian Corn, which long Fair weather and Sunshine had enfeebled and discolored, and which in that weak State, by a Thunder Gust, of violent Wind, Hail, and Rain, seem'd to be threaten'd with absolute Destruction; yet the Storm being past, it recovers fresh Verdure, shoots up with double Vigour, and delights the Eye, not of its Owner only, but of every observing Traveller.[103]
The best Wishes that can be form'd for your Health, Honour, and Happiness, ever attend you from your Excellency's most obedient and most humble servant
B. F.
TO MISS GEORGIANA SHIPLEY
Passy, Oct. 8, 1780.
It is long, very long, my dear Friend, since I had the great Pleasure of hearing from you, and receiving any of your very pleasing Letters. But it is my fault. I have long omitted my Part of the Correspondence. Those who love to receive Letters should write Letters. I wish I could safely promise an Amendment of that Fault. But, besides the Indolence attending Age, and growing upon us with it, my Time is engross'd by too much Business; and I have too many Inducements to postpone doing, what I feel I ought to do for my own Sake, and what I can never resolve to omit entirely.
Your Translations from Horace, as far as I can judge of Poetry and Translations, are very good. That of the _Quò, quò ruitis?_ is so suitable to the Times, that the Conclusion, (in your Version,) seems to threaten like a Prophecy; and methinks there is at least some Appearance of Danger that it may be fulfilled. I am unhappily an Enemy, yet I think there has been enough of Blood spilt, and I wish what is left in the Veins of that once lov'd People, may be spared by a Peace solid and everlasting.
It is a great while since I have heard any thing of the _good Bishop_. Strange, that so simple a Character should sufficiently distinguish one of that sacred Body! _Donnez-moi de ses Nouvelles._ I have been some time flatter'd with the Expectation of seeing the Countenance of that most honoured and ever beloved Friend, delineated by your Pencil. The Portrait is said to have been long on the way, but is not yet arriv'd; nor can I hear where it is.
Indolent as I have confess'd myself to be, I could not, you see, miss this good and safe Opportunity of sending you a few Lines, with my best Wishes for your Happiness, and that of the whole dear and amiable Family in whose sweet Society I have spent so many happy Hours. Mr. Jones[104] tells me, he shall have a Pleasure in being the Bearer of my Letter, of which I make no doubt. I learn from him, that to your Drawing, and Music, and Painting, and Poetry, and Latin, you have added a Proficiency in Chess, so that you are, as the French say, _tout plein de talens_. May they and you fall to the Lot of one, that shall duly value them, and love you as much as I do. Adieu.
B. F[RANKLIN].
TO RICHARD PRICE
Passy, Oct. 9, 1780.
DEAR SIR,
Besides the Pleasure of their Company, I had the great Satisfaction of hearing by your two valuable Friends, and learning from your Letter, that you enjoy a good State of Health. May God continue it, as well for the Good of Mankind as for your Comfort. I thank you much for the second Edition of your excellent Pamphlet.[105] I forwarded that you sent to Mr. Dana, he being in Holland. I wish also to see the Piece you have written (as Mr. Jones tells me) on Toleration. I do not expect that your new Parliament will be either wiser or honester than the last. All Projects to procure an honest one, by Place Bills, &c., appear to me vain and Impracticable. The true Cure, I imagine, is to be found only in rendring all Places unprofitable, and the King too poor to give Bribes and Pensions. Till this is done, which can only be by a Revolution (and I think you have not Virtue enough left to procure one), your Nation will always be plundered, and obliged to pay by Taxes the Plunderers for Plundering and Ruining. Liberty and Virtue therefore join in the call, COME OUT OF HER, MY PEOPLE!
I am fully of your Opinion respecting religious Tests; but, tho' the People of Massachusetts have not in their new Constitution kept quite clear of them, yet, if we consider what that People were 100 Years ago, we must allow they have gone great Lengths in Liberality of Sentiment on religious Subjects; and we may hope for greater Degrees of Perfection, when their Constitution, some years hence, shall be revised. If Christian Preachers had continued to teach as Christ and his Apostles did, without Salaries, and as the Quakers now do, I imagine Tests would never have existed; for I think they were invented, not so much to secure Religion itself, as the Emoluments of it. When a Religion is good, I conceive that it will support itself; and, when it cannot support itself, and God does not take care to support, so that its Professors are oblig'd to call for the help of the Civil Power, it is a sign, I apprehend, of its being a bad one. But I shall be out of my Depth, if I wade any deeper in Theology, and I will not trouble you with Politicks, nor with News which are almost as uncertain; but conclude with a heartfelt Wish to embrace you once more, and enjoy your sweet Society in Peace, among our honest, worthy, ingenious Friends at the _London_[106] Adieu,
B. FRANKLIN.
DIALOGUE BETWEEN FRANKLIN AND THE GOUT
Midnight, October 22, 1780.
FRANKLIN. Eh! Oh! Eh! What have I done to merit these cruel sufferings?
GOUT. Many things; you have ate and drank too freely, and too much indulged those legs of yours in their indolence.
FRANKLIN. Who is it that accuses me?
GOUT. It is I, even I, the Gout.
FRANKLIN. What! my enemy in person?
GOUT. No, not your enemy.
FRANKLIN. I repeat it; my enemy; for you would not only torment my body to death, but ruin my good name; you reproach me as a glutton and a tippler; now all the world, that knows me, will allow that I am neither the one nor the other.
GOUT. The world may think as it pleases; it is always very complaisant to itself, and sometimes to its friends; but I very well know that the quantity of meat and drink proper for a man, who takes a reasonable degree of exercise, would be too much for another, who never takes any.
FRANKLIN. I take--Eh! Oh!--as much exercise--Eh!--as I can, Madam Gout. You know my sedentary state, and on that account, it would seem, Madam Gout, as if you might spare me a little, seeing it is not altogether my own fault.
GOUT. Not a jot; your rhetoric and your politeness are thrown away; your apology avails nothing. If your situation in life is a sedentary one, your amusements, your recreations, at least, should be active. You ought to walk or ride; or, if the weather prevents that play at billiards. But let us examine your course of life. While the mornings are long, and you have leisure to go abroad, what do you do? Why, instead of gaining an appetite for breakfast, by salutary exercise, you amuse yourself, with books, pamphlets, or newspapers, which commonly are not worth the reading. Yet you eat an inordinate breakfast, four dishes of tea, with cream, and one or two buttered toasts, with slices of hung beef, which I fancy are not things the most easily digested. Immediately afterward you sit down to write at your desk, or converse with persons who apply to you on business. Thus the time passes till one, without any kind of bodily exercise. But all this I could pardon, in regard, as you say, to your sedentary condition. But what is your practice after dinner? Walking in the beautiful gardens of those friends, with whom you have dined, would be the choice of men of sense; yours is to be fixed down to chess, where you are found engaged for two or three hours! This is your perpetual recreation, which is the least eligible of any for a sedentary man, because, instead of accelerating the motion of the fluids, the rigid attention it requires helps to retard the circulation and obstruct internal secretions. Wrapt in the speculations of this wretched game, you destroy your constitution. What can be expected from such a course of living, but a body replete with stagnant humours, ready to fall a prey to all kinds of dangerous maladies, if I, the Gout, did not occasionally bring you relief by agitating those humours, and so purifying or dissipating them? If it was in some nook or alley in Paris, deprived of walks, that you played awhile at chess after dinner, this might be excusable; but the same taste prevails with you in Passy, Auteuil, Montmartre, or Sanoy, places where there are the finest gardens and walks, a pure air, beautiful women, and most agreeable and instructive conversation; all which you might enjoy by frequenting the walks. But these are rejected for this abominable game of chess. Fie, then Mr. Franklin! But amidst my instructions, I had almost forgot to administer my wholesome corrections; so take that twinge,--and that.
FRANKLIN. Oh! Eh! Oh! Ohhh! As much instruction as you please, Madam Gout, and as many reproaches; but pray, Madam, a truce with your corrections!
GOUT. No, Sir, no,--I will not abate a particle of what is so much for your good,--therefore--
FRANKLIN. Oh! Ehhh!--It is not fair to say I take no exercise, when I do very often, going out to dine and returning in my carriage.
GOUT. That, of all imaginable exercises, is the most slight and insignificant, if you allude to the motion of a carriage suspended on springs. By observing the degree of heat obtained by different kinds of motion, we may form an estimate of the quantity of exercise given by each. Thus, for example, if you turn out to walk in winter with cold feet, in an hour's time you will be in a glow all over; ride on horseback, the same effect will scarcely be perceived by four hours' round trotting; but if you loll in a carriage, such as you have mentioned, you may travel all day, and gladly enter the last inn to warm your feet by a fire. Flatter yourself then no longer, that half an hour's airing in your carriage deserves the name of exercise. Providence has appointed few to roll in carriages, while he has given to all a pair of legs, which are machines infinitely more commodious and serviceable. Be grateful, then, and make a proper use of yours. Would you know how they forward the circulation of your fluids, in the very action of transporting you from place to place; observe when you walk, that all your weight is alternately thrown from one leg to the other; this occasions a great pressure on the vessels of the foot, and repels their contents; when relieved, by the weight being thrown on the other foot, the vessels of the first are allowed to replenish, and, by a return of this weight, this repulsion again succeeds; thus accelerating the circulation of the blood. The heat produced in any given time, depends on the degree of this acceleration; the fluids are shaken, the humours attenuated, the secretions facilitated, and all goes well; the cheeks are ruddy, and health is established. Behold your fair friend at Auteuil;[107] a lady who received from bounteous nature more really useful science, than half a dozen such pretenders to philosophy as you have been able to extract from all your books. When she honours you with a visit, it is on foot. She walks all hours of the day, and leaves indolence, and its concomitant maladies, to be endured by her horses. In this see at once the preservative of her health and personal charms. But when you go to Auteuil, you must have your carriage, though it is no further from Passy to Auteuil than from Auteuil to Passy.
FRANKLIN. Your reasonings grow very tiresome.
GOUT. I stand corrected. I will be silent and continue my office; take that, and that.
FRANKLIN. Oh! Ohh! Talk on, I pray you!
GOUT. No, no; I have a good number of twinges for you to-night, and you may be sure of some more to-morrow.
FRANKLIN. What, with such a fever! I shall go distracted. Oh! Eh! Can no one bear it for me?
GOUT. Ask that of your horses; they have served you faithfully.
FRANKLIN. How can you so cruelly sport with my torments?
GOUT. Sport! I am very serious. I have here a list of offences against your own health distinctly written, and can justify every stroke inflicted on you.
FRANKLIN. Read it then.
GOUT. It is too long a detail; but I will briefly mention some particulars.
FRANKLIN. Proceed. I am all attention.
GOUT. Do you remember how often you have promised yourself, the following morning, a walk in the grove of Boulogne, in the garden de la Muette, or in your own garden, and have violated your promise, alleging, at one time, it was too cold, at another too warm, too windy, too moist, or what else you pleased; when in truth it was too nothing, but your insuperable love of ease?
FRANKLIN. That I confess may have happened occasionally, probably ten times in a year.
GOUT. Your confession is very far short of the truth; the gross amount is one hundred and ninety-nine times.
FRANKLIN. Is it possible?
GOUT. So possible, that it is fact; you may rely on the accuracy of my statement. You know M. Brillon's gardens, and what fine walks they contain; you know the handsome flight of an hundred steps, which lead from the terrace above to the lawn below. You have been in the practice of visiting this amiable family twice a week, after dinner, and it is a maxim of your own, that "a man may take as much exercise in walking a mile, up and down stairs, as in ten on level ground." What an opportunity was here for you to have had exercise in both these ways! Did you embrace it, and how often?
FRANKLIN. I cannot immediately answer that question.
GOUT. I will do it for you; not once.
FRANKLIN. Not once?
GOUT. Even so. During the summer you went there at six o'clock. You found the charming lady, with her lovely children and friends, eager to walk with you, and entertain you with their agreeable conversation; and what has been your choice? Why to sit on the terrace, satisfying yourself with the fine prospect, and passing your eye over the beauties of the garden below, without taking one step to descend and walk about in them. On the contrary, you call for tea and the chess-board; and lo! you are occupied in your seat till nine o'clock, and that besides two hours' play after dinner; and then, instead of walking home, which would have bestirred you a little, you step into your carriage. How absurd to suppose that all this carelessness can be reconcilable with health, without my interposition!
FRANKLIN. I am convinced now of the justness of poor Richard's remark, that "Our debts and our sins are always greater than we think for."
GOUT. So it is. You philosophers are sages in your maxims, and fools in your conduct.
FRANKLIN. But do you charge among my crimes, that I return in a carriage from Mr. Brillon's?
GOUT. Certainly; for, having been seated all the while, you cannot object the fatigue of the day, and cannot want therefore the relief of a carriage.
FRANKLIN. What then would you have me do with my carriage?
GOUT. Burn it if you choose; you would at least get heat out of it once in this way; or, if you dislike that proposal, here's another for you; observe the poor peasants, who work in the vineyards and grounds about the villages of Passy, Auteuil, Chaillot, &c.; you may find every day, among these deserving creatures, four or five old men and women, bent and perhaps crippled by weight of years, and too long and too great labour. After a most fatiguing day, these people have to trudge a mile or two to their smoky huts. Order your coachman to set them down. This is an act that will be good for your soul; and, at the same time, after your visit to the Brillons, if you return on foot, that will be good for your body.
FRANKLIN. Ah! how tiresome you are!
GOUT. Well, then, to my office; it should not be forgotten that I am your physician. There.
FRANKLIN. Ohhh! what a devil of a physician!
GOUT. How ungrateful you are to say so! Is it not I who, in the character of your physician, have saved you from the palsy, dropsy, and apoplexy? one or other of which would have done for you long ago, but for me.
FRANKLIN. I submit, and thank you for the past, but entreat the discontinuance of your visits for the future; for, in my mind, one had better die than be cured so dolefully. Permit me just to hint, that I have also not been unfriendly to _you_. I never feed physician or quack of any kind, to enter the list against you; if then you do not leave me to my repose, it may be said you are ungrateful too.
GOUT. I can scarcely acknowledge that as any objection. As to quacks, I despise them; they may kill you indeed, but cannot injure me. And, as to regular physicians, they are at last convinced that the gout, in such a subject as you are, is no disease, but a remedy; and wherefore cure a remedy?--but to our business,--there.
FRANKLIN. Oh! oh!--for Heaven's sake leave me! and I promise faithfully never more to play at chess, but to take exercise daily, and live temperately.
GOUT. I know you too well. You promise fair; but, after a few months of good health, you will return to your old habits; your fine promises will be forgotten like the forms of last year's clouds. Let us then finish the account, and I will go. But I leave you with an assurance of visiting you again at a proper time and place; for my object is your good, and you are sensible now that I am your _real friend_.
THE HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG[108]
[1780?]
There are two Sorts of People in the World, who with equal Degrees of Health, & 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 different Views upon their own Minds.
In whatever Situation Men can be plac'd, they may find Conveniencies & Inconveniencies: In whatever Company; they may find Persons & Conversation more or less pleasing. At whatever Table, they may meet with Meats & Drinks of better and worse Taste, Dishes better & worse dress'd: In whatever Climate they will find good and bad Weather: Under whatever Government, they may find good & bad Laws, and good & bad Administration of those Laws. In every Poem or Work of Genius they may see Faults and Beauties. In almost every Face & every Person, they may discover fine Features & Defects, good & bad Qualities.
Under these Circumstances, the two Sorts of People above mention'd fix their Attention, those who are to be happy, on the Conveniencies of Things, the pleasant Parts of Conversation, the well-dress'd Dishes, the Goodness of the Wines, the fine Weather; &c., and enjoy all with Chearfulness. Those who are to be unhappy, think & speak only of the contraries. Hence they are continually discontented themselves, and by their Remarks sour the Pleasures of Society, offend personally many People, and make themselves everywhere disagreable. 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, & be disgusted, is perhaps taken up originally by Imitation, and is unawares grown into a Habit, which tho' at present strong may nevertheless be cured when those who have it are convinc'd of its bad Effects on their Felicity; I hope this little Admonition may be of Service to them, and put them on changing a Habit, which tho' in the Exercise it is chiefly an Act of Imagination yet has serious Consequences in Life, as it brings on real Griefs and Misfortunes. For as many are offended by, & nobody well 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 humour, and draws them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes them success, or will stir a step, or speak a word, to favour their pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their misconduct, and render them completely odious. If these people will not change this bad habit, and condescend to be pleased with what is pleasing, without fretting themselves and others about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid an acquaintance with them; which is always disagreeable, and sometimes very inconvenient, especially when one finds one's self entangled in their quarrels.
An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from experience, 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 accident, crooked and] deformed. If a Stranger, at the first interview, regarded his ugly Leg more than his handsome one, he doubted him. If he spoke of it, & took no notice of the handsome Leg, that was sufficient to determine my Philosopher to have no further Acquaintance with him. Every body has not this two-legged Instrument, but every one with a little Attention, may observe Signs of that carping, fault-finding Disposition, & take the same Resolution of avoiding the Acquaintance of those infected with it. I therefore advise those critical, querulous, discontented, unhappy People, that if they wish to be respected and belov'd by others, & happy in themselves they should _leave off looking at the ugly Leg_.
TO MISS GEORGIANA SHIPLEY[109]
... Must now be next its End, as I have compleated my 75th Year I could wish to see my dear Friends of your Family once more before I withdraw, but I see no Prospect of enjoying that Felicity. Let me at least have that of hearing from you a little oftener.
I do not understand the Coldness you mention of the Nights in the Desert. I never before heard of such an Observation. If you have learnt what was the Degree of cold and how it was observed, and what Difference between the Night and the Day, you will oblige me by communicating it. I like to see that you retain a Taste for Philosophical Enquiries.
I rec^d also your very kind Letter by Mad^e ---- [_illegible in MS_], with whom and the Princess, her Mother, I am much pleased; tho' I have not seen them so often as I wished, living as I do out of Paris.
I am glad to hear that you all pass'd the summer so agreably in Wales, and I felicitate you as the French say, on the Increase of your Brother's Family.
Accept my Thanks for your Friendly Verses and good Wishes. How many Talents you possess! Painting, Poetry, Languages, etc., etc. All valuable, but your good Heart is worth the whole.
Your mention of the Summer House brings fresh to my mind all the Pleasures I enjoyed in the sweet Retreat at Twyford: the Hours of agreable and instructive Conversation with the amiable Family at Table; with its Father alone; the delightful Walks in the Gardens and neighbouring Grounds. Pleasures past and gone forever! Since I have had your Father's Picture I am grown more covetous of the rest; every time I look at your second Drawing I have regretted that you have not given to your Juno the Face of Anna Maria, to Venus that of Emily or Betsey, and to Cupid that of Emily's Child, as it would have cost you but little more Trouble. I must, however, beg that you will make me up a compleat Set of your little Profiles, which are more easily done. You formerly obliged me with that of the Father, an excellent one. Let me also have that of the good Mother, and of all the Children. It will help me to fancy myself among you, and to enjoy more perfectly in Idea, the Pleasure of your Society. My little Fellow-Traveller, the sprightly Hetty, with whose sensible Prattle I was so much entertained, why does she not write to me? If Paris affords any thing that any of you wish to have, mention it. You will oblige me. It affords everything but _Peace_! Ah! when shall we again enjoy that Blessing!
Next to seeing our Friends is the Pleasure of hearing from them, and learning how they live. Your Accounts of your Journies and how you pass your Summers please me much. I flatter myself you will like to know something of the same kind relating to me. I inhabit, a clean, well-built Village situate on a Hill, in a fine Air, with a beautiful Prospect, about 2 Miles [_Incomplete._]
TO DAVID HARTLEY
Passy, December 15, 1781.
MY DEAR FRIEND,
I received your favour of September 26th,[110] containing your very judicious proposition of securing the spectators in the opera and play houses from the danger of fire. I communicated it where I thought it might be useful. You will see by the enclosed, that the subject has been under consideration here. Your concern for the security of life, even the lives of your enemies, does honour to your heart and your humanity. But what are the lives of a few idle haunters of play houses, compared with the many thousands of worthy men, and honest industrious families, butchered and destroyed by this devilish war? Oh that we could find some happy invention to stop the spreading of the flames, and put an end to so horrid a conflagration! Adieu, I am ever yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
SUPPLEMENT TO THE BOSTON INDEPENDENT CHRONICLE[111]
Numb. 705
Boston, March 12, 1782.
Extract of a Letter from Captain Gerrish, of the New England Militia, dated Albany, March 7.
The Peltry taken in the Expedition [see the Account of the Expedition to Oswegatchie, on the River St. Laurence, in our Paper of the 1st Instant,] will, as you see, amount to a good deal of Money. The Possession of this Booty at first gave us Pleasure; but we were struck with Horror to find among the Packages 8 large ones, containing SCALPS of our unhappy Country-folks, taken in the three last Years by the Senneka Indians from the Inhabitants of the Frontiers of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Virginia, and sent by them as a Present to Col. Haldimand, governor of Canada, in order to be by him transmitted to England. They were accompanied by the following curious Letter to that Gentleman.
"Teoga, Jan. 3d, 1782.
"May it please your Excellency,
"At the Request of the Senneka chiefs, I send herewith to your Excellency, under the Care of James Boyd, eight Packs of Scalps, cured, dried, hooped, and painted, with all the Indian triumphal Marks, of which the following is Invoice and Explanation.
"No. 1. Containing 43 Scalps of Congress Soldiers, killed in different Skirmishes; these are Stretched on black Hoops, 4 Inches diameter; the Inside of the Skin painted red, with a small black Spot to note their being killed with Bullets. Also 62 of Farmers killed in their Houses; the Hoops red; the Skin painted brown, and marked with a Hoe; a black Circle all round, to denote their being surprised in the Night; and a black Hatchet in the Middle, signifying their being killed with that Weapon.
"No. 2. Containing 98 of Farmers killed in their Houses; Hoops red; Figure of a Hoe, to mark their Profession; great white Circle and Sun, to show they were surprised in the Daytime; a little red Foot, to show they stood upon their Defence, and died fighting for their Lives and Families.
"No. 3. Containing 97 of Farmers; Hoops green, to shew they were killed in their Fields; a large white Circle with a little round Mark on it for the Sun, to shew that it was in the Daytime; black Bullet-mark on some, Hatchet on others.
"No. 4. Containing 102 of Farmers, mixed of the several Marks above; only 18 marked with a little yellow Flame, to denote their being of Prisoners burnt alive, after being scalped, their Nails pulled out by the Roots, and other Torments; one of these latter supposed to be a rebel Clergyman, his Band being fixed to the Hoop of his Scalp. Most of the Farmers appear by the Hair to have been young or middle-aged Men; there being but 67 very grey Heads among them all; which makes the Service more essential.
"No. 5. Containing 88 Scalps of Women; hair long, braided in the Indian Fashion, to shew they were Mothers; Hoops blue; Skin yellow Ground, with little red Tadpoles, to represent, by way of Triumph, the Tears of Grief occasioned to their Relations; a black scalping-Knife or Hatchet at the Bottom, to mark their being killed with those Instruments. 17 others, Hair very grey; black Hoops; plain brown Colour; no Mark, but the short Club or _Casse-tête_, to shew they were knocked down dead, or had their Brains beat out.
"No. 6. Containing 193 Boys' Scalps, of various Ages; small green Hoops; whitish Ground on the Skin, with red Tears in the Middle, and black Bullet-marks, Knife, Hatchet, or Club, as their Deaths happened.
"No. 7. 211 Girls' Scalps, big and little; small yellow Hoops; white Ground, Tears; Hatchet, Club, scalping-Knife, &c.
"No. 8. This Package is a Mixture of all the Varieties abovementioned; to the number of 122; with a Box of Birch Bark, containing 29 little Infants' Scalps of various Sizes; small white Hoops; white Ground; no Tears; and only a little black Knife in the Middle, to shew they were ript out of their Mothers' Bellies.
"With these Packs, the Chiefs send to your Excellency the following Speech, delivered by Conejogatchie in Council, interpreted by the elder Moore, the Trader, and taken down by me in Writing.
Father,
We send you herewith many Scalps, that you may see we are not idle Friends.
_A blue Belt._
Father,
We wish you to send these Scalps over the Water to the great King, that he may regard them and be refreshed; and that he may see our faithfulness in destroying his Enemies, and be convinced that his Presents have not been made to ungrateful people.
_A blue and white Belt with red Tassels._
Father,
Attend to what I am now going to say; it is a Matter of much Weight. The great King's Enemies are many, and they grow fast in Number. They were formerly like young Panthers; they could neither bite nor scratch; we could play with them safely; we feared nothing they could do to us. But now their Bodies are become big as the Elk, and strong as the Buffalo; they have also got great and sharp Claws. They have driven us out of our Country for taking part in your Quarrel. We expect the great King will give us another Country, that our Children may live after us, and be his Friends and Children, as we are. Say this for us to the great King. To enforce it, we give this Belt.
_A great white Belt with blue Tassels._
Father,
We have only to say farther, that your Traders exact more than ever for their Goods; and our hunting is lessened by the War, so that we have fewer Skins to give for them. This ruins us. Think of some Remedy. We are poor; and you have Plenty of every Thing. We know you will send us Powder and Guns, and Knives and Hatchets; but we also want Shirts and Blankets.
_A little white Belt._
"I do not doubt but that your Excellency will think it proper to give some farther Encouragement to those honest People. The high Prices they complain of are the necessary Effect of the War. Whatever Presents may be sent for them, through my Hands, shall be distributed with Prudence and Fidelity. I have the Honour of being your Excellency's most obedient
"And most humble Servant, JAMES CRAUFURD."
It was at first proposed to bury these Scalps; but Lieutenant Fitzgerald, who, you know, has got Leave of Absence to go to Ireland on his private Affairs, said he thought it better they should proceed to their Destination; and if they were given to him, he would undertake to carry them to England, and hang them all up in some dark Night on the Trees in St. James's Park, where they could be seen from the King and Queen's Palaces in the Morning; for that the Sight of them might perhaps strike Muley Ishmael (as he called him) with some Compunction of Conscience. They were accordingly delivered to Fitz, and he has brought them safe hither. To-morrow they go with his Baggage in a Waggon for Boston, and will probably be there in a few Days after this Letter.
I am, &c. SAMUEL GERRISH.
Boston, March 20.
Monday last arrived here Lieutenant Fitzgerald above mentioned, and Yesterday the Waggon with the Scalps. Thousands of People are flocking to see them this Morning, and all Mouths are full of Execrations. Fixing them to the Trees is not approved. It is now proposed to make them up in decent little Packets, seal and direct them; one to the King, containing a Sample of every Sort for his Museum; one to the Queen, with some of Women and little Children; the Rest to be distributed among both Houses of Parliament; a double Quantity to the Bishops.
[The following part appeared in a second edition from which certain advertisements which had been published in the first edition were omitted.]
MR. WILLIS,
Please to insert in your useful Paper the following Copy of a Letter from Commodore Jones, directed
TO SIR JOSEPH YORK, AMBASSADOR FROM THE KING OF ENGLAND TO THE STATES-GENERAL OF THE UNITED PROVINCES
"Ipswich, New England, March 7, 1781.
"SIR,
"I have lately seen a memorial, said to have been presented by your Excellency to their High Mightinesses the States-general, in which you are pleased to qualify me with the title of _pirate_.
"A pirate is defined to be _hostis humani generis_ [an enemy to all mankind]. It happens, Sir, that I am an enemy to no part of mankind, except your nation, the English; which nation at the same time comes much more within the definition, being actually an enemy to, and at war with, one whole quarter of the world, America, considerable part of Asia and Africa, a great part of Europe, and in a fair way of being at war with the rest.
"A pirate makes war for the sake of _rapine_. This is not the kind of war I am engaged in against England. Ours is a war in defence of _liberty_ ... the most just of all wars; and of our _properties_, which your nation would have taken from us, without our consent, in violation of our rights, and by an armed force. Yours, therefore is a war of _rapine_; of course, a piratical war; and those who approve of it, and are engaged in it, more justly deserve the name of _pirates_, which you bestow on me. It is, indeed, a war that coincides with the general spirit of your nation. Your common people in their ale-houses sing the twenty-four songs of Robin Hood, and applaud his deer-stealing and his robberies on the highway: those, who have just learning enough to read, are delighted with your histories of the pirates and of the buccaniers; and even your scholars in the universities study Quintus Curtius, and are taught to admire Alexander for what they call 'his conquests in the Indies.' Severe laws and the hangmen keep down the effects of this spirit somewhat among yourselves (though in your little Island you have nevertheless more highway robberies than there are in all the rest of Europe put together); but a foreign war gives it full scope. It is then that, with infinite pleasure, it lets itself loose to strip of their property honest merchants, employed in the innocent and useful occupation of supplying the mutual wants of mankind. Hence, having lately no war with your ancient enemies, rather than be without a war, you chose to make one upon your friends. In this your piratical war with America, the mariners of your fleets and the owners of your privateers were animated against us by the act of your Parliament, which repealed the law of God, 'Thou shalt not steal,' by declaring it lawful for them to rob us of all our property that they could meet with on the ocean. This act, too, had a retrospect, and, going beyond bulls of pardon, declared that all the robberies you _had committed_ previous to the act should be _deemed just and lawful_. Your soldiers, too, were promised the plunder of our cities; and your officers were flattered with the division of our lands. You had even the baseness to corrupt our servants, the sailors employed by us, and encourage them to rob their masters and bring to you the ships and goods they were entrusted with. Is there any society of pirates on the sea or land, who, in declaring wrong to be right, and right wrong, have less authority than your parliament? Do any of them more justly than your parliament deserve the _title_ you bestow on me?
"You will tell me that we forfeited all our estates by our refusal to pay the taxes your nation would have imposed on us without the consent of our colony parliaments. Have you then forgotten the incontestable principle, which was the foundation of Hambden's glorious lawsuit with Charles the first, that 'what an English king has no right to demand, an English subject has a right to refuse'? But you cannot so soon have forgotten the instructions of your late honorable father, who, being himself a sound Whig, taught you certainly the principles of the Revolution, and that, 'if subjects might in some cases forfeit their property, kings also might forfeit their title, and all claim to the allegiance of their subjects.' I must then suppose you well acquainted with those Whig principles; on which permit me, Sir, to ask a few questions.
"Is not protection as justly due from a king to his people, as obedience from the people to their king?
"If then a king declares his people to be out of his protection:
"If he violates and deprives them of their constitutional rights:
"If he wages war against them:
"If he plunders their merchants, ravages their coasts, burns their towns, and destroys their lives:
"If he hires foreign mercenaries to help him in their destruction:
"If he engages savages to murder their defenceless farmers, women, and children:
"If he cruelly forces such of his subjects as fall into his hands, to bear arms against their country, and become executioners of their friends and brethren:
"If he sells others of them into bondage, in Africa and the East Indies:
"If he excites domestic insurrections among their servants, and encourages servants to murder their masters:--
"Does not so atrocious a conduct towards his subjects dissolve their allegiance?
"If not, please to say how or by what means it can possibly be dissolved?
"All this horrible wickedness and barbarity has been and daily is practised by the King, _your master_, (as you call him in your memorial,) upon the Americans, whom he is still pleased to claim as his subjects.
"During these six years past, he has destroyed not less than forty thousand of those subjects, by battles on land or sea, or by starving them, or poisoning them to death, in the unwholesome air, with the unwholesome food of his prisons. And he has wasted the lives of at least an equal number of his own soldiers and sailors: many of whom have been _forced_ into this odious service, and _dragged_ from their families and friends, by the outrageous violence of his illegal press-gangs. You are a gentleman of letters, and have read history: do you recollect any instance of any tyrant, since the beginning of the world, who, in the course of so few years, had done so much mischief, by murdering so many of his own people? Let us view one of the worst and blackest of them, Nero. He put to death a few of his courtiers, placemen, and pensioners, and among the rest his _tutor_. Had George the Third done the same, and no more, his crime, though detestable, as an act of lawless power, might have been as useful to his nation, as that of Nero was hurtful to Rome; considering the different characters and merits of the sufferers. Nero indeed wished that the people of Rome had but one neck, that he might behead them all by one stroke; but this was a simple wish. George is carrying the wish as fast as he can into execution; and, by continuing in his present course a few years longer, will have destroyed more of the British people than Nero could have found inhabitants in Rome. Hence the expression of Milton, in speaking of Charles the First, that he was '_Nerone Neronior_,' is still more applicable to George the third. Like Nero, and all other tyrants, while they lived, he indeed has his flatterers, his addressers, his applauders. Pensions, places, and hopes of preferment can bribe even bishops to approve his conduct: but when those fulsome, purchased addresses and panegyrics are sunk and lost in oblivion or contempt, impartial history will step forth, speak honest truth, and rank him among public calamities. The only difference will be, that plagues, pestilences, and famines are of this world, and arise from the nature of things; but voluntary malice, mischief, and murder, are from hell; and this King will, therefore, stand foremost in the list of diabolical, bloody, and execrable tyrants. His base-bought parliaments too, who sell him their souls, and extort from the people the money with which they aid his destructive purposes, as they share his guilt, will share his infamy,--parliaments, who, to please him, have repeatedly, by different votes year after year, dipped their hands in human blood, insomuch that methinks I see it dried and caked so thick upon them, that, if they could wash it off in the Thames, which flows under their windows, the whole river would run red to the ocean.
"One is provoked by enormous wickedness: but one is ashamed and humiliated at the view of human baseness. It afflicts me, therefore, to see a gentleman of Sir Joseph York's education and talents, for the sake of a red riband and a paltry stipend, mean enough to style such a monster _his master_, wear his livery, and hold himself ready at his command even to cut the throats of fellow subjects. This makes it impossible for me to end my letter with the civility of a compliment, and obliges me to subscribe myself simply,
"JOHN PAUL JONES, "Whom you are pleased to style a _pirate_."
TO JOHN THORNTON
Passy, May 8, 1782.
SIR,
I received the letter you did me the honour of writing to me, and am much obliged by your kind present of a book. The relish for reading of poetry had long since left me, but there is something so new in the manner, so easy, and yet so correct in the language, so clear in the expression, yet concise, and so just in the sentiments, that I have read the whole with great pleasure, and some of the pieces more than once. I beg you to accept my thankful acknowledgments, and to present my respects to the author.[112]
I shall take care to forward the letters to America, and shall be glad of any other opportunity of doing what may be agreeable to you, being with great respect for your character,--Your most obedient humble servant,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO JOSEPH PRIESTLEY
Passy near Paris, June 7, 1782.
DEAR SIR,
I received your kind Letter of the 7th of April, also one of the 3d of May. I have always great Pleasure in hearing from you, in learning that you are well, and that you continue your Experiments. I should rejoice much, if I could once more recover the Leisure to search with you into the Works of Nature; I mean the _inanimate_, not the _animate_ or moral part of them, the more I discover'd of the former, the more I admir'd them; the more I know of the latter, the more I am disgusted with them. Men I find to be a Sort of Beings very badly constructed, as they are generally more easily provok'd than reconcil'd, more disposed to do Mischief to each other than to make Reparation, much more easily deceiv'd than undeceiv'd, and having more Pride and even Pleasure in killing than in begetting one another; for without a Blush they assemble in great armies at NoonDay to destroy, and when they have kill'd as many as they can, they exaggerate the Number to augment the fancied Glory; but they creep into Corners, or cover themselves with the Darkness of night, when they mean to beget, as being asham'd of a virtuous Action. A virtuous Action it would be, and a vicious one the killing of them, if the Species were really worth producing or preserving; but of this I begin to doubt.
I know you have no such Doubts, because, in your zeal for their welfare, you are taking a great deal of pains to save their Souls. Perhaps as you grow older, you may look upon this as a hopeless Project, or an idle Amusement, repent of having murdered in mephitic air so many honest, harmless mice, and wish that to prevent mischief, you had used Boys and Girls instead of them. In what Light we are viewed by superior Beings, may be gathered from a Piece of late West India News, which possibly has not yet reached you. A young Angel of Distinction being sent down to this world on some Business, for the first time, had an old courier-spirit assigned him as a Guide. They arriv'd over the Seas of Martinico, in the middle of the long Day of obstinate Fight between the Fleets of Rodney and De Grasse. When, thro' the Clouds of smoke, he saw the Fire of the Guns, the Decks covered with mangled Limbs, and Bodies dead or dying; the ships sinking, burning, or blown into the Air; and the Quantity of Pain, Misery, and Destruction, the Crews yet alive were thus with so much Eagerness dealing round to one another; he turn'd angrily to his Guide, and said, "You blundering Blockhead, you are ignorant of your Business; you undertook to conduct me to the Earth, and you have brought me into Hell!" "No, Sir," says the Guide, "I have made no mistake; this is really the Earth, and these are men. Devils never treat one another in this cruel manner; they have more Sense, and more of what Men (vainly) call _Humanity_."
But to be serious, my dear old Friend, I love you as much as ever, and I love all the honest Souls that meet at the London Coffee House. I only wonder how it happen'd, that they and my other Friends in England came to be such good Creatures in the midst of so perverse a Generation. I long to see them and you once more, and I labour for Peace with more Earnestness, that I may again be happy in your sweet society.
I show'd your letter to the Duke de Larochefoucault, who thinks with me, the new Experiments you have made are extremely curious; and he has given me thereupon a Note, which I inclose, and I request you would furnish me with the answer desired.
Yesterday the Count du Nord was at the Academy of Sciences, when sundry Experiments were exhibited for his Entertainment; among them, one by M. Lavoisier, to show that the strongest Fire we yet know, is made in a Charcoal blown upon with dephlogisticated air. In a Heat so produced, he melted Platina presently, the Fire being much more powerful than that of the strongest burning mirror. Adieu, and believe me ever, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO JONATHAN SHIPLEY
Passy, June 10, 1782.
I received and read the Letter from my dear and much respected Friend with infinite Pleasure. After so long a Silence, and the long Continuance of its unfortunate Causes, a Line from you was a Prognostic of happier Times approaching, when we may converse and communicate freely, without Danger from the malevolence of Men enrag'd by the ill success of their distracted Projects.
I long with you for the Return of Peace, on the general Principles of Humanity. The Hope of being able to pass a few more of my last Days happily in the sweet Conversations and Company I once enjoy'd at Twyford, is a particular Motive that adds Strength to the general Wish, and quickens my Industry to procure that best of Blessings. After much Occasion to consider the Folly and Mischiefs of a State of Warfare, and the little or no Advantage obtain'd even by those Nations, who have conducted it with the most Success, I have been apt to think, that there has never been, nor ever will be, any such thing as a _good_ War, or a _bad_ Peace.
You ask if I still relish my old Studies. I relish them, but I cannot pursue them. My Time is engross'd unhappily with other Concerns. I requested of the Congress last Year my Discharge from this publick Station, that I might enjoy a little Leisure in the Evening of a long Life of Business; but it was refus'd me, and I have been obliged to drudge on a little longer.
You are happy as your Years come on, in having that dear and most amiable Family about you. Four Daughters! how rich! I have but one, and she, necessarily detain'd from me at 1000 leagues distance. I feel the Want of that tender Care of me, which might be expected from a Daughter, and would give the World for one. Your Shades are all plac'd in a Row over my Fireplace, so that I not only have you always in my Mind, but constantly before my Eyes.
The Cause of Liberty and America has been greatly oblig'd to you. I hope you will live long to see that Country flourish under its new Constitution, which I am sure will give you great Pleasure. Will you permit me to express another Hope, that, now your Friends are in Power, they will take the first Opportunity of showing the sense they ought to have of your Virtues and your Merit?
Please to make my best Respects acceptable to Mrs. Shipley, and embrace for me tenderly all our dear Children. With the utmost Esteem, Respect, and Veneration, I am ever, my dear Friend, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO JAMES HUTTON
Passy, July 7, 1782.
MY OLD AND DEAR FRIEND,
A Letter written by you to M. Berlin,[113] _Ministre d'Etat_, containing an Account of the abominable Murders committed by some of the frontier People on the poor Moravian Indians, has given me infinite Pain and Vexation. The Dispensations of Providence in this World puzzle my weak Reason. I cannot comprehend why cruel Men should have been permitted thus to destroy their Fellow Creatures. Some of the Indians may be suppos'd to have committed Sins, but one cannot think the little Children had committed any worthy of Death. Why has a single Man in England, who happens to love Blood and to hate Americans, been permitted to gratify that bad Temper by hiring German Murderers, and joining them with his own, to destroy in a continued Course of bloody Years near 100,000 human Creatures, many of them possessed of useful Talents, Virtues and Abilities to which he has no Pretension! It is he who has furnished the Savages with Hatchets and Scalping Knives, and engages them to fall upon our defenceless Farmers, and murder them with their Wives and Children, paying for their Scalps, of which the account kept in America already amounts, as I have heard, to near _two Thousand_!
Perhaps the people of the frontiers, exasperated by the Cruelties of the Indians, have been induced to kill all Indians that fall into their Hands without Distinction; so that even these horrid Murders of our poor Moravians may be laid to his Charge. And yet this Man lives, enjoys all the good Things this World can afford, and is surrounded by Flatterers, who keep even his Conscience quiet by telling him he is the best of Princes! I wonder at this, but I cannot therefore part with the comfortable Belief of a Divine Providence; and the more I see the Impossibility, from the number & extent of his Crimes, of giving equivalent Punishment to a wicked Man in this Life, the more I am convinc'd of a future State, in which all that here appears to be wrong shall be set right, all that is crooked made straight. In this Faith let you & I, my dear Friend, comfort ourselves; it is the only Comfort, in the present dark Scene of Things, that is allow'd us.
I shall not fail to write to the Government of America, urging that effectual Care may be taken to protect & save the Remainder of those unhappy People.
Since writing the above, I have received a Philadelphia Paper, containing some Account of the same horrid Transaction, a little different, and some Circumstances alledged as Excuses or Palliations, but extreamly weak & insufficient. I send it to you inclos'd. With great and sincere Esteem, I am ever, my dear Friend, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO SIR JOSEPH BANKS[114]
Passy, Sept. 9, 1782.
DEAR SIR,
I have just received the very kind friendly Letter you were so good as to write to me by Dr. Broussonnet.[115] Be assured, that I long earnestly for a Return of those peaceful Times, when I could sit down in sweet Society with my English philosophic Friends, communicating to each other new Discoveries, and proposing Improvements of old ones; all tending to extend the Power of Man over Matter, avert or diminish the Evils he is subject to, or augment the Number of his Enjoyments. Much more happy should I be thus employ'd in your most desirable Company, than in that of all the Grandees of the Earth projecting Plans of Mischief, however necessary they may be supposed for obtaining greater Good.
I am glad to learn by the D^r that your great Work goes on. I admire your Magnanimity in the Undertaking, and the Perseverance with which you have prosecuted it.
I join with you most perfectly in the charming Wish you so well express, "that such Measures may be taken by both Parties as may tend to the Elevation of both, rather than the Destruction of either." If any thing has happened endangering one of them, my Comfort is, that I endeavour'd earnestly to prevent it, and gave honest, faithful Advice, which, if it had been regarded, would have been effectual. And still, if proper Means are us'd to produce, not only a Peace, but what is much more interesting, a thorough Reconciliation, a few Years may heal the Wounds that have been made in our Happiness, and produce a Degree of Prosperity of which at present we can hardly form a Conception. With great and sincere Esteem and Respect, I am, dear Sir, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
INFORMATION TO THOSE WHO WOULD REMOVE TO AMERICA[116]
[1782?]
Many Persons in Europe, having directly or by Letters, express'd 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, thro' Ignorance, mistaken Ideas and Expectations of what is to be obtained there; he thinks it may be useful, and prevent inconvenient, expensive, and fruitless Removals and Voyages of improper Persons, if he gives some clearer and truer Notions of that part of the World, than appear to have hitherto prevailed.
He finds it is imagined by Numbers, that the Inhabitants of North America are rich, capable of rewarding, and dispos'd to reward, all sorts of Ingenuity; that they are at the same time ignorant of all the Sciences, and, consequently, that Strangers, 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, Strangers of Birth must be greatly respected, and of course easily obtain the best of those Offices, which will make all their Fortunes; that the Governments too, to encourage Emigrations from Europe, not only pay the Expence of personal Transportation, but give Lands gratis to Strangers, with Negroes to work for them, Utensils of Husbandry, and Stocks of Cattle. These are all wild Imaginations; and those who go to America with Expectations founded upon them will surely find themselves disappointed.
The Truth is, that though there are in that Country few People so miserable as the Poor of Europe, there are also very few that in Europe would be called rich; it is rather a general happy Mediocrity that prevails. There are few great Proprietors of the Soil, and few Tenants; most People cultivate their own Lands, or follow some 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 Paintings, 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 Country for Europe, where they can be more suitably rewarded. It is true, that Letters and Mathematical Knowledge are in Esteem there, but they are at the same time more common than is apprehended; there being already existing nine Colleges or Universities, viz. four in New England, and one in each of the Provinces of New York, New Jersey, Pensilvania, Maryland, and Virginia, all furnish'd with learned Professors; besides a number of smaller Academies; these educate many of their Youth in the Languages, and those Sciences that qualify men for the Professions of Divinity, Law, or Physick. Strangers indeed are by no means excluded from exercising those Professions; and the quick Increase of Inhabitants everywhere 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 establish'd in some of the States, that no Office should be so profitable as to make it desirable. The 36th Article of the Constitution of Pennsilvania, runs expressly in these Words; "As every Freeman, to preserve his Independence, (if he has not a sufficient Estate) ought to have some Profession, Calling, Trade, or Farm, whereby he may honestly subsist, there can be no Necessity for, nor Use in, establishing Offices of Profit, the usual Effects of which are Dependance and Servility, unbecoming Freemen, in the Possessors and Expectants; Faction, Contention, Corruption, and Disorder among the People. Wherefore, whenever an Office, thro' Increase of Fees or otherwise, becomes so profitable, as to occasion many to apply for it, the Profits ought to be lessened by the Legislature."
These Ideas prevailing more or less in all the United States, it cannot be worth any Man's while, who has a means of Living at home, to expatriate himself, in hopes of obtaining a profitable civil Office in America; and, as to military Offices, they are at an End with the War, the Armies being disbanded. Much less is it adviseable for a Person to go thither, who has no other Quality to recommend him but his Birth. In Europe it has indeed its Value; but it is a Commodity that cannot be carried to a worse Market than 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 despis'd and disregarded. The Husbandman is in honor there, and even the Mechanic, because their Employments 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, Ingenuity, and Utility of his Handyworks, than for the Antiquity of his Family. They are pleas'd with the Observation of a Negro, and frequently mention it, that _Boccarorra_ (meaning the White men) _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 Gentleman_. According to these Opinions of the Americans, one of them would think himself more oblig'd to a Genealogist, who could prove for him that his Ancestors and Relations for ten Generations had been Ploughmen, Smiths, Carpenters, Turners, Weavers, Tanners, or even Shoemakers, and consequently that they were useful Members of Society; than if he could only prove that they were Gentlemen, doing nothing of Value, but living idly on the Labour of others, mere _fruges consumere nati_,[L] 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_.
[L] "... born merely to eat up the corn."--WATTS. [_Franklin's note._]
With regard to Encouragements for Strangers from Government, they are really only what are derived from good Laws and Liberty. Strangers are welcome, because there is room enough for them all, and therefore the old Inhabitants are not jealous of them; the Laws protect them sufficiently, so that they have no need of the Patronage of Great Men; and every one will enjoy securely the Profits of his Industry. But, if he does not bring a Fortune with him, he must work and be industrious to live. One or two Years' residence gives 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 Passages, giving Land, Negroes, Utensils, Stock, or any other kind of Emolument whatsoever. In short, America is the Land of Labour, and by no means what the English call _Lubberland_, and the French _Pays de Cocagne_, where the streets are said to be pav'd with half-peck Loaves, the Houses til'd with Pancakes, 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 Advantages they may reasonably expect?
Land being cheap in that Country, from the vast Forests still void of Inhabitants, and not likely to be occupied in an Age to come, insomuch that the Propriety of an hundred Acres of fertile Soil full of Wood may be obtained near the Frontiers, in many Places, for Eight or Ten Guineas, hearty young Labouring Men, who understand the Husbandry of Corn and Cattle, which is nearly the same in that Country as in Europe, may easily establish themselves there. A little Money sav'd of the good Wages they receive there, while they work for others, enables them to buy the Land and begin their Plantation, in which they are assisted by the Good-Will of their Neighbours, and some Credit. Multitudes of poor People from England, Ireland, Scotland, 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 Labour low, could never have emerged from the poor Condition wherein they were born.
From the salubrity of the Air, the healthiness of the Climate, the plenty of good Provisions, and the Encouragement to early Marriages by the certainty of Subsistence in cultivating the Earth, the Increase of Inhabitants by natural Generation is very rapid in America, and becomes still more so by the Accession of Strangers; hence there is a continual Demand for more Artisans of all the necessary and useful kinds, to supply those Cultivators of the Earth with Houses, and with Furniture and Utensils of the grosser sorts, which cannot so well be brought from Europe. Tolerably good Workmen in any of those mechanic Arts are sure to find Employ, and to be well paid for their Work, there being no Restraints preventing Strangers from exercising any Art they understand, nor any Permission necessary. If they are poor, they begin first as Servants or Journeymen; and if they are sober, industrious, and frugal, they soon become Masters, establish themselves in Business, marry, raise Families, and become respectable Citizens.
Also, Persons of moderate Fortunes and Capitals, who, having a Number of Children to provide for, are desirous of bringing them up to Industry, and to secure Estates for their Posterity, have Opportunities of doing it in America, which Europe does not afford. There they may be taught and practise profitable mechanic Arts, without incurring Disgrace on that Account, but on the contrary acquiring Respect by 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 Children. The writer of this has known several Instances of large Tracts of Land, bought, on what was then the Frontier of Pensilvania, for Ten Pounds per hundred Acres, which after 20 years, when the Settlements had been extended far beyond them, sold readily, without any Improvement made upon them, for three Pounds per Acre. The Acre in America is the same with the English Acre, or the Acre of Normandy.
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 that bind the whole together for general Purposes, under the Direction of one Assembly, called the Congress. These Constitutions have been printed, by order of Congress, in America; two Editions of them have also been printed in London; and a good Translation of them into French has lately been published at Paris.
Several of the Princes of Europe having of late years, from an Opinion of Advantage to arise by producing all Commodities and Manufactures within their own Dominions, so as to diminish or render useless their Importations, have endeavoured 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 dispos'd to imitate the Princes above mentioned, have proposed to go over, on Condition of having their Passages paid, Lands 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 such Encouragement is given, it must be by the Government of some separate State. This, however, has rarely been done in America; and, when it 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; Labour being generally too dear there, and Hands difficult to be kept together, every one desiring to be a Master, and the Cheapness of Lands inclining 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. Things that are bulky, and of so small Value as not well to bear the Expence of Freight, may often be made cheaper in the Country than they can be imported; and the Manufacture of such Things will be profitable wherever there is a sufficient Demand. The Farmers in America produce indeed a good deal of Wool and Flax; and none is exported, it is all work'd up; but it is in the Way of domestic Manufacture, for the Use of the Family. The buying up Quantities of Wool and Flax, with the 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 Importation 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 a Folly to think of forcing Nature. Great Establishments of Manufacture require great Numbers of Poor to do the Work for small Wages; these 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 England, because each Country produces in Plenty the first Material; but if England will have a Manufacture of Silk as well as that of Cloth, and France one of Cloth as well as that of Silk, these unnatural Operations must be supported by mutual 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 Governments in America do nothing to encourage such Projects. The People, by this Means, are not impos'd on, either by the Merchant or Mechanic. If the Merchant demands too much Profit on imported Shoes, they buy of the Shoemaker; and if he asks too high a Price, they take them of the Merchant; thus the two Professions are checks on each other. The Shoemaker, however, has, on the whole, a considerable Profit upon his Labour in America, beyond what he had in Europe, as he can add to his Price a Sum nearly equal to all the Expences of Freight and Commission, Risque or Insurance, &c., necessarily charged by the Merchant. And the Case is the same with the Workmen in every other Mechanic Art. Hence it is, that Artisans generally live better and more easily in America than in Europe; and such as are good OEconomists make a comfortable Provision for Age, and for their Children. Such may, therefore, remove with Advantage to America.
In the 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 Apprentices, but upon Conditions of Money, Maintenance, or the like, which the Parents are unable to comply with. Hence the Youth are dragg'd up in Ignorance of every gainful Art, and oblig'd 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 receive Apprentices from the hope of Profit by their Labour, during the Remainder of the Time stipulated, after they shall be instructed. Hence it is easy for poor Families to get their Children instructed; for the Artisans are so desirous of Apprentices, that many of them will even give Money to the Parents, to have Boys from Ten to Fifteen Years of Age bound Apprentices to them till the Age of Twenty-one; and many poor Parents have, by that means, on their Arrival in the Country, raised Money enough to buy Land sufficient to establish themselves, and to subsist the rest of their Family by Agriculture. These Contracts for Apprentices are made before a Magistrate, who regulates the Agreement according to Reason and Justice, 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 compleat new Suit of Cloaths, but also that he shall be taught to read, write, and cast Accompts; and that he shall be well instructed in the Art or Profession of his Master, or some other, by which he may afterwards 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 Master in any Point of Performance. This desire among the Masters, to have more Hands employ'd in working for them, induces them to pay the Passages of young Persons, of both Sexes, who, on their Arrival, agree to serve them one, two, three, or four Years; those, who have already learnt 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 subsistence, those Vices, that arise usually from Idleness, are in a great measure prevented. Industry and constant Employment are great preservatives of the Morals and Virtue of a Nation. Hence bad Examples to Youth are more rare in America, which must be a comfortable Consideration to Parents. To this may be truly added, that serious Religion, under its various Denominations, is not only tolerated, but respected and practised. Atheism is unknown there; 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, by the remarkable Prosperity with which He has been pleased to favour the whole Country.
APOLOGUE[117]
[1783?]
Lion, king of a certain forest, had among his subjects a body of faithful dogs, in principle and affection strongly attached to his person and government, but through whose assistance he had extended his dominions, and had become the terror of his enemies.
Lion, however, influenced by evil counsellors, took an aversion to the dogs, condemned them unheard, and ordered his tigers, leopards, and panthers to attack and destroy them.
The dogs petitioned humbly, but their petitions were rejected haughtily; and they were forced to defend themselves, which they did with bravery.
A few among them, of a mongrel race, derived from a mixture with wolves and foxes, corrupted by royal promises of great rewards, deserted the honest dogs and joined their enemies.
The dogs were finally victorious: a treaty of peace was made, in which Lion acknowledged them to be free, and disclaimed all future authority over them.
The mongrels not being permitted to return among them, claimed of the royalists the reward that had been promised.
A council of the beasts was held to consider their demand.
The wolves and the foxes agreed unanimously that the demand was just, that royal promises ought to be kept, and that every loyal subject should contribute freely to enable his majesty to fulfil them.
The horse alone, with a boldness and freedom that became the nobleness of his nature, delivered a contrary opinion.
"The King," said he, "has been misled, by bad ministers, to war unjustly upon his faithful subjects. Royal promises, when made to encourage us to act for the public good, should indeed be honourably acquitted; but if to encourage us to betray and destroy each other, they are wicked and void from the beginning. The advisers of such promises, and those who murdered in consequence of them, instead of being recompensed, should be severely punished. Consider how greatly our common strength is already diminished by our loss of the dogs. If you enable the King to reward those fratricides, you will establish a precedent that may justify a future tyrant to make like promises; and every example of such an unnatural brute rewarded will give them additional weight. Horses and bulls, as well as dogs, may thus be divided against their own kind, and civil wars produced at pleasure, till we are so weakened that neither liberty nor safety is any longer to be found in the forest, and nothing remains but abject submission to the will of a despot, who may devour us as he pleases."
The council had sense enough to resolve--that the demand be rejected.
TO SIR JOSEPH BANKS
Passy, July 27, 1783.
DEAR SIR,
I received your very kind letter by Dr. Blagden,[118] and esteem myself much honoured by your friendly Remembrance. I have been too much and too closely engaged in public Affairs, since his being here, to enjoy all the Benefit of his Conversation you were so good as to intend me. I hope soon to have more Leisure, and to spend a part of it in those Studies, that are much more agreable to me than political Operations.
I join with you most cordially in rejoicing at the return of Peace. I hope it will be lasting, and that Mankind will at length, as they call themselves reasonable Creatures, have Reason and Sense enough to settle their Differences without cutting Throats; for, in my opinion, _there never was a good War, or a bad Peace_. What vast additions to the Conveniences and Comforts of Living might Mankind have acquired, if the Money spent in Wars had been employed in Works of public utility! What an extension of Agriculture, even to the Tops of our Mountains: what Rivers rendered navigable, or joined by Canals: what Bridges, Aqueducts, new Roads, and other public Works, Edifices, and Improvements, rendering England a compleat Paradise, might have been obtained by spending those Millions in doing good, which in the last War have been spent in doing Mischief; in bringing Misery into thousands of Families, and destroying the Lives of so many thousands of working people, who might have performed the useful labour!
I am pleased with the late astronomical Discoveries made by our Society [the Royal--Eds.]. Furnished as all Europe now is with Academies of Science, with nice Instruments and the Spirit of Experiment, the progress of human knowledge will be rapid, and discoveries made, of which we have at present no Conception. I begin to be almost sorry I was born so soon, since I cannot have the happiness of knowing what will be known 100 years hence.
I wish continued success to the Labours of the Royal Society, and that you may long adorn their Chair; being, with the highest esteem, dear Sir, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. Dr. Blagden will acquaint you with the experiment of a vast Globe sent up into the Air, much talked of here, and which, if prosecuted, may furnish means of new knowledge.
TO MRS. SARAH BACHE[119]
Passy, Jan. 26, 1784.
MY DEAR CHILD,
Your Care in sending me the Newspapers is very agreable to me. I received by Capt. Barney those relating to the _Cincinnati_. My Opinion of the Institution cannot be of much Importance; I only wonder that, when the united Wisdom of our Nation had, in the Articles of Confederation, manifested their Dislike of establishing Ranks of Nobility, by Authority either of the Congress or of any particular State, a Number of private Persons should think proper to distinguish themselves and their Posterity, from their fellow Citizens, and form an Order of _hereditary Knights_, in direct Opposition to the solemnly declared Sense of their Country! I imagine it must be likewise contrary to the Good Sense of most of those drawn into it by the Persuasion of its Projectors, who have been too much struck with the Ribbands and Crosses they have seen among them hanging to the Buttonholes of Foreign Officers. And I suppose those, who disapprove of it, have not hitherto given it much Opposition, from a Principle somewhat like that of your good Mother, relating to punctilious Persons, who are always exacting little Observances of Respect; that, "_if People can be pleased with small Matters, it is a pity but they should have them_."
In this View, perhaps, I should not myself, if my Advice had been ask'd, have objected to their wearing their Ribband and Badge according to their Fancy, tho' I certainly should to the entailing it as an Honour on their Posterity. For Honour, worthily obtain'd (as for Example that of our Officers), is in its Nature a _personal_ Thing, and incommunicable to any but those who had some Share in obtaining it. Thus among the Chinese, the most ancient, and from long Experience the wisest of Nations, honour does not _descend_, but _ascends_. If a man from his Learning, his Wisdom, or his Valour, is promoted by the Emperor to the Rank of Mandarin, his Parents are immediately entitled to all the same Ceremonies of Respect from the People, that are establish'd as due to the Mandarin himself; on the supposition that it must have been owing to the Education, Instruction, and good Example afforded him by his Parents, that he was rendered capable of serving the Publick.
This _ascending_ Honour is therefore useful to the State, as it encourages Parents to give their Children a good and virtuous Education. But the _descending Honour_, to Posterity who could have no Share in obtaining it, is not only groundless and absurd, but often hurtful to that Posterity, since it is apt to make them proud, disdaining to be employ'd in useful Arts, and thence falling into Poverty, and all the Meannesses, Servility, and Wretchedness attending it; which is the present case with much of what is called the _Noblesse_ in Europe. Or if, to keep up the Dignity of the Family, Estates are entailed entire on the Eldest male heir, another Pest to Industry and Improvement of the Country is introduc'd, which will be followed by all the odious mixture of pride and Beggary, and idleness, that have half depopulated [and _decultivated_] Spain; occasioning continual Extinction of Families by the Discouragements of Marriage [and neglect in the improvement of estates].
I wish, therefore, that the Cincinnati, if they must go on with their Project, would direct the Badges of their Order to be worn by their Parents, instead of handing them down to their Children. It would be a good Precedent, and might have good Effects. It would also be a kind of Obedience to the Fourth Commandment, in which God enjoins us to _honour_ our Father and Mother, but has nowhere directed us to honour our Children. And certainly no mode of honouring those immediate Authors of our Being can be more effectual, than that of doing praiseworthy Actions, which reflect Honour on those who gave us our Education; or more becoming, than that of manifesting, by some public Expression or Token, that it is to their Instruction and Example we ascribe the Merit of those Actions.
But the Absurdity of _descending Honours_ is not a mere Matter of philosophical Opinion; it is capable of mathematical Demonstration. A Man's Son, for instance, is but half of his Family, the other half belonging to the Family of his Wife. His Son, too, marrying into another Family, his Share in the Grandson is but a fourth; in the Great Grandson, by the same Process, it is but an Eighth; in the next Generation a Sixteenth; the next a Thirty-second; the next a Sixty-fourth; the next an Hundred and twenty-eighth; the next a Two hundred and Fifty-sixth; and the next a Five hundred and twelfth; thus in nine Generations, which will not require more than 300 years (no very great Antiquity for a Family), our present Chevalier of the Order of Cincinnatus's Share in the then existing Knight, will be but a 512th part; which, allowing the present certain Fidelity of American Wives to be insur'd down through all those Nine Generations, is so small a Consideration, that methinks no reasonable Man would hazard for the sake of it the disagreable Consequences of the Jealousy, Envy, and Ill will of his Countrymen.
Let us go back with our Calculation from this young Noble, the 512th part of the present Knight, thro' his nine Generations, till we return to the year of the Institution. He must have had a Father and Mother, they are two. Each of them had a father and Mother, they are four. Those of the next preceding Generation will be eight, the next Sixteen, the next thirty-two, the next sixty-four, the next One hundred and Twenty-eight, the next Two hundred and fifty-six, and the ninth in this Retrocession Five hundred and twelve, who must be now existing, and all contribute their Proportion of this future _Chevalier de Cincinnatus_. These, with the rest, make together as follows:
2 4 8 16 32 64 128 256 512 ____ Total 1022
One Thousand and Twenty-two Men and Women, contributors to the formation of one Knight. And, if we are to have a Thousand of these future knights, there must be now and hereafter existing One million and Twenty-two Thousand Fathers and Mothers, who are to contribute to their Production, unless a Part of the Number are employ'd in making more Knights than One. Let us strike off then the 22,000, on the Supposition of this double Employ, and then consider whether, after a reasonable Estimation of the Number of Rogues, and Fools, and Royalists and Scoundrels and Prostitutes, that are mix'd with, and help to make up necessarily their Million of Predecessors, Posterity will have much reason to boast of the noble Blood of the then existing Set of Chevaliers de Cincinnatus. [The future genealogists, too, of these Chevaliers, in proving the lineal descent of their honour through so many generations (even supposing honour capable in its nature of descending), will only prove the small share of this honour, which can be justly claimed by any one of them; since the above simple process in arithmetic makes it quite plain and clear that, in proportion as the antiquity of the family shall augment, the right to the honour of the ancestor will diminish; and a few generations more would reduce it to something so small as to be very near an absolute nullity.] I hope, therefore, that the Order will drop this part of their project, and content themselves, as the Knights of the Garter, Bath, Thistle, St. Louis, and other Orders of Europe do, with a Life Enjoyment of their little Badge and Ribband, and let the Distinction die with those who have merited it. This I imagine will give no offence. For my own part, I shall think it a Convenience, when I go into a Company where there may be Faces unknown to me, if I discover, by this Badge, the Persons who merit some particular Expression of my Respect; and it will save modest Virtue the Trouble of calling for our Regard, by awkward roundabout Intimations of having been heretofore employ'd in the Continental Service.
The Gentleman, who made the Voyage to France to provide the Ribands and Medals, has executed his Commission. To me they seem tolerably done; but all such Things are criticis'd. Some find Fault with the Latin, as wanting classic Elegance and Correctness; and, since our Nine Universities were not able to furnish better Latin, it was pity, they say, that the Mottos had not been in English. Others object to the Title, as not properly assumable by any but Gen. Washington, [and a few others] who serv'd without Pay. Others object to the _Bald Eagle_ as looking too much like a _Dindon_, or Turkey. For my own part, I wish the Bald Eagle had not been chosen as the Representative of our Country; he is a Bird of bad moral Character; he does not get his living honestly; you may have seen him perch'd on some dead Tree, near the River where, too lazy to fish for himself, he watches the Labour of the Fishing-Hawk; and, when that diligent Bird has at length taken a Fish, and is bearing it to his Nest for the support of his Mate and young ones, the Bald Eagle pursues him, and takes it from him. With all this Injustice he is never in good Case; but, like those among Men who live by Sharping and Robbing, he is generally poor, and often very lousy. Besides, he is a rank Coward; the little _King Bird_, not bigger than a sparrow, attacks him boldly and drives him out of the District. He is therefore by no means a proper emblem for the brave and honest Cincinnati of America, who have driven all the _Kingbirds_ from our Country; though exactly fit for that Order of Knights, which the French call _Chevaliers d'Industrie_.
I am, on this account, not displeas'd that the Figure is not known as a Bald Eagle, but looks more like a Turk'y. For in Truth, the Turk'y is in comparison a much more respectable Bird, and withal a true original Native of America. Eagles have been found in all Countries, but the Turk'y was peculiar to ours; the first of the Species seen in Europe being brought to France by the Jesuits from Canada, and serv'd up at the Wedding Table of Charles the Ninth. He is, [though a little vain and silly, it is true, but not the worse emblem for that,] a Bird of Courage, and would not hesitate to attack a Grenadier of the British Guards, who should presume to invade his Farm Yard with a _red_ Coat on.
I shall not enter into the Criticisms made upon their Latin. The gallant officers of America may [not have the merit of being] be no great scholars, but they undoubtedly merit much, [as brave soldiers,] from their Country, which should therefore not leave them merely to _Fame_ for their "_Virtutis Premium_," which is one of their Latin Mottos. Their "_Esto perpetua_," another, is an excellent Wish, if they meant it for their Country; bad, if intended for their Order. The States should not only restore to them the _Omnia_ of their first Motto, which many of them have left and lost, but pay them justly, and reward them generously. They should not be suffered to remain, with [all] their new-created Chivalry, _entirely_ in the Situation of the Gentleman in the Story, which their _omnia reliquit_ reminds me of. You know every thing makes me recollect some Story. He had built a very fine House, and thereby much impair'd his Fortune. He had a Pride, however, in showing it to his Acquaintance. One of them, after viewing it all, remark'd a Motto over the Door, "OIA VANITAS." "What," says he, "is the Meaning of this OIA? it is a word I don't understand." "I will tell you," said the Gentleman; "I had a mind to have the Motto cut on a Piece of smooth Marble, but there was not room for it between the Ornaments, to be put in Characters large enough to be read. I therefore made use of a Contraction antiently very common in Latin Manuscripts, by which the _m_'s and _n_'s in Words are omitted, and the Omission noted by a little Dash above, which you may see there; so that the Word is _omnia_, OMNIA VANITAS." "O," says his Friend, "I now comprehend the Meaning of your motto, it relates to your Edifice; and signifies, that, if you have abridged your _Omnia_, you have, nevertheless, left your VANITAS legible at full length." I am, as ever, your affectionate father,
B. FRANKLIN.
AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT
TO THE AUTHORS OF THE JOURNAL OF PARIS
[March 20, 1784?[120]]
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 conceive may be of great utility.
I was the other evening in a grand company, where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, and much admired for its splendour; but a general inquiry was made, whether the oil it consumed was not in proportion to the light it afforded, in which case there would be no saving in the use of it. No one present could satisfy us in that point, which all agreed ought to be known, it being a very desirable thing to lessen, if possible, the expense of lighting our apartments, when every other article of family expense was so much augmented.
I was pleased to see this general concern for economy, for I love economy exceedingly.
I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, with my head full of the subject. An accidental sudden noise waked me about six in the morning, when I was surprised to find my room filled with light; and I imagined at first, that a number of those lamps had been brought into it; but, rubbing my eyes, I perceived the light came in at the windows. I got up and looked out to see what might be the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising above the horizon, from whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber, my domestic having negligently omitted, the preceding evening, to close the shutters.
I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found that it was but six o'clock; and still thinking it something extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I looked into the almanac, 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 astronomical part of the almanac, will be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his rising so early; and especially when I assure them, _that he gives light as soon as he rises_. I am convinced of this. I am certain of 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 believe me. One, indeed, who is a learned natural philosopher, has assured me that I must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of the light coming into my room; for it being well known, as he says, that there could be no light abroad at that hour, it follows that none could enter from without; and that of consequence, my windows being accidentally left open, instead of letting in the light, had only served to let out the darkness; and he used many ingenious arguments to show me how I might, by that means, have been deceived. I owned that he puzzled me a little, but he did not satisfy me; and the subsequent observations I made, as above mentioned, confirmed me in my first opinion.
This event has given rise in my mind to several serious and important reflections. I considered that, if I had not been awakened so early in the morning, I should have slept six hours longer by the light of the sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the following night by candle-light; and, the latter being a much more expensive light than the former, my love of economy induced me to muster up what little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calculations, which I shall give you, after observing that utility is, in my opinion the test of value in matters of invention, and that a discovery which can be applied to no use, or is not good for something, is good for nothing.
I took for the basis of my calculation the supposition that there are one hundred thousand 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 a medium quantity between the time of the sun's rising and ours, he rising during the six following months from six to eight hours before noon, and there being seven hours of course per night in which we burn candles, the account will stand thus;--
In the six months between the 20th of March and the 20th 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, give 128,100,000
One hundred twenty-eight millions and one hundred thousand hours, spent at Paris by candle-light, which, at half a pound of wax and tallow per hour, gives the weight of 64,050,000
Sixty-four millions and fifty thousand of pounds, which, estimating the whole at the medium price of thirty sols the pound, makes the sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres tournois 96,075,000
An immense sum! that the city of Paris might save every year, by the economy of using sunshine instead of candles.
If it should be said, that people are apt to be obstinately attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to induce them to rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be of little use; I answer, _Nil desperandum_. I believe all who have common sense, as soon as they have learnt from this paper that it is daylight when the sun rises, will contrive to rise with him; and, to compel the rest, I would propose the following regulations;
First. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on every window that is provided with shutters to keep out the light of the sun.
Second. Let the same salutary operation of police be made use of, to prevent our burning candles, that inclined us last winter to be more economical in burning wood; that is, let guards be placed in the shops of the wax and tallow chandlers, and no family be permitted to be supplied with more than one pound of candles per week.
Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all the coaches, &c. that would pass the streets after sun-set, 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 ringing; and if that is not sufficient, 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 present irregularity; for, _ce n'est que le premier pas qui coûte_. Oblige a man to rise at four in the morning, and it is more than probable he will go willingly to bed at eight in the evening; and, having had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly at four in the morning following. 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 them cheaper as long as the proposed reformation shall be supported.
For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely communicated and bestowed by me on the public, I demand neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, nor any other reward whatever. I expect only to have the honour of it. And yet I know there are little, 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, almanacs that predicted it; but it does not follow 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 might have been long since forgotten; for it certainly was unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians, which to prove, I need use but one plain simple argument. They are as well instructed, judicious, and prudent a people as exist anywhere 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 an abundant 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 candles, if they had really known, that they might have had as much pure light of the sun for nothing. I am, &c.
A SUBSCRIBER.
TO SAMUEL MATHER[121]
Passy, May 12, 1784.
REV^D SIR,
I received your kind letter, with your excellent advice to the people of the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings, though they may be lightly passed over by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impression on one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be considerable. Permit me to mention one little instance, which, though it relates to myself, will not be quite uninteresting to you. When I was a boy, I met with a book, entitled "_Essays to do Good_," which I think was written by your father. It had been so little regarded by a former possessor, that several leaves of it were torn out; but the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on my conduct through life; for I have always set a greater value on the character of a _doer of good_, than on 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 78^th year; I am in my 79^th; we are grown old together. It is now more than 60 years since I left Boston, but I remember well both your father and grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. The last time I saw your father was in the beginning of 1724, when I visited him after my first trip to Pennsylvania. He received me in his 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 that 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 misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads too high.
I long much to see again my native place, and to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723; I visited it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 1763. In 1773 I was in England; in 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not enter, it being in possession of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783, but could not obtain my dismission from this employment here; and now I fear I shall never have that happiness. My best wishes however attend my dear country. _Esto perpetua._ It is now blest with an excellent constitution; may it last for ever!
This powerful monarchy continues its friendship for the United States. It is a friendship of the utmost importance to our security, and should be carefully cultivated. Britain has not yet well digested the loss of its dominion over us, and has still at times some flattering hopes of recovering it. Accidents may increase those hopes, and encourage dangerous attempts. A breach between us and France would infallibly bring the English again upon our backs; and yet we have some wild heads among our countrymen, who are endeavouring to weaken that connexion! Let us preserve our reputation by performing our engagements; our credit by fulfilling our contracts; and friends by gratitude and kindness; for we know not how soon we may again have occasion for all of them. With great and sincere esteem, I have the honour to be, &c.
B. FRANKLIN.
TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN[122]
Passy, July 26th, 1784.
DEAR FRIEND,
I have received several Letters from you lately, dated June 16, June 30, and July 13. I thank you for the Information respecting the Proceedings of your West India Merchants, or rather Planters. The Restraints what ever they may be upon our Commerce with your Islands, will prejudice their Inhabitants, I apprehend, more than us.
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 application, industry, and address, than the public do theirs, that general interest most commonly gives way to particular. We assemble parliaments and councils, to have the benefit of their collected wisdom; but we necessarily have, at the same time, the inconvenience of their collected passions, prejudices, and private interest. By the help of these, artful men overpower their wisdom, and dupe its possessors; and if we may judge by the acts, _arrêts_, and edicts, all the world over, for regulating commerce, an assembly of great men is the greatest fool upon earth.
I have received Cook's _Voyages_, which you put Mr. Oswald in the way of sending to me. By some Mistake the first Volume was omitted, and instead of it a Duplicate sent of the third. If there is a good Print of Cook, I should be glad to have it, being personally acquainted with him. I thank you for the Pamphlets by Mr. Estlin. Every thing you send me gives me Pleasure; to receive your Account would give me more than all.
I am told, that the little Pamphlet of _Advice to such as would remove to America_, is reprinted in London, with my Name to it, which I would rather had been omitted; but wish to see a Copy, when you have an Opportunity of sending it.
Mr. H. has long continued here in Expectation of Instructions for making a Treaty of Commerce, but they do not come, and I begin to suspect none are intended; tho' perhaps the Delay is only occasioned by the over great Burthen of Business at present on the Shoulders of your Ministers. We do not press the Matter, but are content to wait till they can see their Interest respecting America more clearly, being certain that we can shift as well as you without a Treaty.
The Conjectures I sent you concerning the cold of last Winter still appear to me probable. The moderate Season in Russia and Canada, do not weaken them. I think our Frost here began about the 24th of December; in America, the 12 of January. I thank you for recommending to me Mr. Arbuthnot; I have had Pleasure in his Conversation. I wish much to see the new Pieces you had in hand. I congratulate you on the Return of your Wedding-day, and wish for your Sake and Mrs. Vaughan's, that you may see a great many of them, all as happy as the first.
I like the young stranger very much. He seems sensible, ingenious, and modest, has a good deal of Instruction, and makes judicious Observations. He will probably distinguish himself advantageously. I have not yet heard from Mr. Nairne.
Dr. Price's Pamphlet of Advice to America is a good one, and will do Good. You ask, "what Remedy I have for the growing Luxury of my Country, which gives so much _Offence_ to all _English travellers_ without exception." I answer, that I think it exaggerated, and that Travellers are no good Judges whether our Luxury is growing or diminishing. Our People are hospitable, and have indeed too much Pride in displaying upon their Tables before Strangers the Plenty and Variety that our Country affords. They have the Vanity, too, of sometimes borrowing one another's Plate to entertain more splendidly. Strangers being invited from House to House, and meeting every Day with a Feast, imagine what they see is the ordinary Way of living of all the Families where they dine; when perhaps each Family lives a Week after upon the Remains of the Dinner given. It is, I own, a Folly in our People to give _such Offence_ to _English Travellers_. The first part of the Proverb is thereby verified, that _Fools make Feasts_. I wish in this Case the other were as true, _and wise Men eat them_. These Travellers might, one would think, find some Fault they could more decently reproach us with, than that of our excessive Civility to them as Strangers.
I have not, indeed yet 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 it is represented. Suppose we include in the Definition of Luxury all unnecessary Expence, and then let us consider whether Laws to prevent such Expence 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 one day being able to purchase and enjoy Luxuries a great Spur to Labour and Industry? May not Luxury, therefore, produce more than it consumes, if without such a Spur People would be, as they are naturally enough inclined to be, lazy and 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 Pay. My Wife, understanding that he had a Daughter, sent her as a Present a new-fashioned Cap. Three Years After, this Skipper being at my House with an old Farmer of Cape May, his Passenger, he mentioned the Cap, and how much his Daughter had been pleased with it. "But," says he, "it proved a dear Cap to our Congregation." "How so?" "When my Daughter appeared in it at Meeting, 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 Pound." "True," says 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 wherewithal to buy Caps and Ribbands there; and you know that that Industry has continued, and is likely to continue and increase to a much greater Value, and answer better Purposes." Upon the whole, I was more reconciled to this little Piece of Luxury, 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 Seacoast, 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 cannot prevent this; and perhaps it is not always an evil to the Publick. A Shilling spent idly by a Fool, may be picked up by a Wiser Person, who knows better what to do with it. It is therefore not lost. A vain, silly Fellow builds a fine House, furnishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and in few years ruins himself; but the Masons, Carpenters, Smiths, and other honest Tradesmen have been by his Employ assisted in maintaining and raising their Families; the Farmer has been paid for his labour, and encouraged, and the Estate is now in better Hands. In some Cases, indeed, certain Modes of Luxury may be a publick Evil, in the same Manner as it is a Private one. If there be a Nation, for Instance, that exports its Beef and Linnen, to pay for its Importation of Claret and Porter, while a great Part of its People live upon Potatoes, and wear no Shirts, wherein does it differ from the Sot, who lets his Family starve, and sells his Clothes to buy Drink? Our American Commerce is, I confess, a little in this way. We sell our Victuals to your Islands for Rum and Sugar; the substantial Necessaries of Life for Superfluities. But we have Plenty, and live well nevertheless, tho' by being soberer, we might be richer.
By the by, here is just issued an _arrêt_ of Council taking off all the Duties upon the exportation of Brandies, which, it is said, will render them cheaper in America than your Rum; in which case there is no doubt but they will be preferr'd, and we shall be better able to bear your Restrictions on our Commerce. There are Views here, by augmenting their Settlements, of being able to supply the growing People of America with the Sugar that may be wanted there. On the whole, I guess England will get as little by the Commercial War she has begun with us, as she did by the Military. But to return to Luxury.
The vast Quantity of Forest Lands we have yet to clear, and put in order for Cultivation, will for a long time keep the Body of our Nation laborious and frugal. Forming an Opinion of our People and their Manners by what is seen among the Inhabitants of the Seaports, is judging from an improper Sample. The People of the Trading Towns may be rich and luxurious, while the Country possesses all the Virtues, that tend to private Happiness and publick Prosperity. Those Towns are not much regarded by the Country; they are hardly considered as an essential Part of the States; and the Experience of the last War has shown, that their being in the Possession of the Enemy did not necessarily draw on the Subjection of the Country, which bravely continued to maintain its Freedom and Independence 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 Labour 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 24 hours might be Leisure and Pleasure.
What occasions then so much Want and Misery? It is the Employment of Men and Women in Works, that produce neither the Necessaries nor Conveniences of Life, who, with those who do nothing, consume the Necessaries raised by the Laborious. To explain this.
The first Elements of Wealth are obtained by Labour, from the Earth and Waters. I have Land, and raise Corn. With this, if I feed a Family that does nothing, my Corn will be consum'd, 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 hewing Timber and sawing Boards, others in making Bricks, &c. for Building, the Value of my Corn will be arrested and remain with me, and at the end of the Year we may all be better clothed and better lodged. And if, instead of employing a Man I feed in making Bricks, I employ him in fiddling for me, the Corn he eats is gone, and no Part of his Manufacture remains to augment the Wealth and Convenience of the family; I shall therefore be the poorer for this fiddling Man, unless the rest of my Family work more, or eat less, to make up the Deficiency he occasions.
Look round the World and see the Millions employ'd 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 destroy each other, but the Toil of Millions for Superfluities, to the great Hazard and Loss of many Lives by the constant Dangers of the Sea? How much labour is spent in Building and fitting great Ships, to go to China and Arabia for Tea and Coffee, to the West Indies for Sugar, to America for Tobacco! These things cannot be called the Necessaries of Life, for our Ancestors lived very comfortably without them.
A Question may be asked; Could all these People, now employed in raising, making, or carrying Superfluities, be subsisted by raising Necessaries? I think they might. The World is large, and a great Part of it still uncultivated. Many hundred Millions of Acres in Asia, Africa, and America are still Forest, and a great Deal even in Europe. On 100 Acres of this Forest a Man might become a substantial Farmer, and 100,000 Men, employed in clearing each his 100 Acres, would hardly brighten a Spot big enough to be Visible from the Moon, unless with Herschell's Telescope; so vast are the Regions still in Wood unimproved.
'Tis 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 Increase 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 Coasts of the Mediterranean; and this, notwithstanding the mad Wars continually raging, by which are often destroyed in one year the Works of many Years' Peace. So that we may hope the Luxury of a few Merchants on the Seacoast will not be the Ruin of America.
One reflection more, and I well end this long, rambling Letter. Almost all the Parts of our Bodies require some Expence. The Feet demand Shoes; the Legs, Stockings; the rest of the Body, Clothing; and the Belly, a good deal of Victuals. _Our_ Eyes, tho' exceedingly useful, ask, when reasonable, only the cheap Assistance of Spectacles, which could not much impair our Finances. But _the Eyes of other People_ are the Eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should want neither fine Clothes, fine Houses, nor fine Furniture. Adieu, my dear Friend, I am
Yours ever B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. This will be delivered to you by my Grandson. I am persuaded you will afford him your Civilities and Counsels. Please to accept a little Present of Books, I send by him, curious for the Beauty of the Impression.
TO GEORGE WHATELY[123]
Passy, May 23, 1785.
DEAR OLD FRIEND,
... I must agree with you, that the Gout is bad, and that the Stone is worse. I am happy in not having them both together, and I join in your Prayer, that you may live till you die without either. But I doubt the Author of the Epitaph you send me was a little mistaken, when he, speaking of the World, says, that
"he ne'er car'd a pin What they said or may say of the Mortal within."
It is so natural to wish to be well spoken of, whether alive or dead, that I imagine he could not be quite exempt from that Desire; and that at least he wish'd to be thought a Wit, or he would not have given himself the Trouble of writing so good an Epitaph to leave behind him. Was it not as worthy of his Care, that the World should say he was an honest and a good Man? I like better the concluding Sentiment in the old Song, call'd _The Old Man's Wish_, wherein, after wishing for a warm House in a country Town, an easy Horse, some good old authors, ingenious and cheerful Companions, a Pudding on Sundays, with stout Ale, and a bottle of Burgundy, &c., &c., in separate Stanzas, each ending with this burthen,
"May I govern my Passions with an absolute sway, Grow wiser and better as my Strength wears away, Without Gout or Stone, by a gentle Decay;"
he adds,
"With a Courage undaunted may I face my last day, And, when I am gone, may the better Sort say, 'In the Morning when sober, in the Evening when mellow, He's gone, and has not left behind him his Fellow; For he governed his Passions, &c."'
But what signifies our Wishing? Things happen, after all, as they will happen. I have sung that _wishing Song_ a thousand times, when I was young, and now find, at Fourscore, that the three Contraries have befallen me, being subject to the Gout and the Stone, and not being yet Master of all my Passions. Like the proud Girl in my Country, who wished and resolv'd not to marry a Parson, nor a Presbyterian, nor an Irishman; and at length found herself married to an Irish Presbyterian Parson.
You see I have some reason to wish, that, in a future State, I may not only be _as well as I was_, but a little better. And I hope it; for I, too, with your Poet, _trust in God_. And when I observe, that there is great Frugality, as well as Wisdom, in his Works, since he has been evidently sparing both of Labour and Materials; for by the various wonderful Inventions of Propagation, he has provided for the continual peopling his World with Plants and Animals, without being at the Trouble of repeated new Creations; and by the natural Reduction of compound Substances to their original Elements, capable of being employ'd in new Compositions, he has prevented the Necessity of creating new Matter; so that the Earth, Water, Air, and perhaps Fire, which being compounded form Wood, do, when the Wood is dissolved, return, and again become Air, Earth, Fire, and Water; I say, that, when I see nothing annihilated, and not even a Drop of Water wasted, I cannot suspect the Annihilation of Souls, or believe, that he will suffer the daily Waste of Millions of Minds ready made that now exist, and put himself to the continual Trouble of making new ones. Thus finding myself to exist in the World, I believe I shall, in some Shape or other, always exist; and, with all the inconveniencies human Life is liable to, I shall not object to a new Edition of mine; hoping, however, that the _Errata_ of the last may be corrected.
... Adieu, my dear Friend, and believe me ever yours very affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO JOHN BARD AND MRS. BARD
Philadelphia, November 14, 1785.
DEAR FRIENDS,
I received your kind letter, which gave me great pleasure, as it informed me of your welfare. Your friendly congratulations are very obliging. I had on my return some right, as you observe, to expect repose; and it was my intention to avoid all public business. But I had not firmness enough to resist the unanimous desire of my country folks; and I find myself harnessed again in their service for another year. They engrossed the prime of my life. They have eaten my flesh, and seem resolved now to pick my bones. You are right in supposing, that I interest myself in every thing that affects you and yours, sympathizing in your afflictions, and rejoicing in your felicities; for our friendship is ancient, and was never obscured by the least cloud.
I thank you for your civilities to my grandson, and am ever, with sincere and great esteem and regard, my dear friends, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
TO JONATHAN SHIPLEY
Philadelphia, Feb. 24^th, 1786.
DEAR FRIEND,
I received lately your kind letter of Nov. 27th. My Reception here was, as you have heard, very honourable indeed; but I was betray'd by it, and by some Remains of Ambition, from which I had imagined myself free, to accept of the Chair of Government for the State of Pennsylvania, when the proper thing for me was Repose and a private Life. I hope, however, to be able to bear the Fatigue for one Year, and then to retire.
I have much regretted our having so little Opportunity for Conversation when we last met. You could have given me Informations and Counsels that I wanted, but we were scarce a Minute together without being broke in upon. I am to thank you, however, for the Pleasure I had after our Parting, in reading the new Book[124] you gave me, which I think generally well written and likely to do good; tho' the Reading Time of most People is of late so taken up with News Papers and little periodical Pamphlets, that few now-a-days venture to attempt reading a Quarto Volume. I have admir'd to see, that, in the last Century, a Folio, _Burton on Melancholly_, went through Six Editions in about Twenty Years. We have, I believe, more Readers now, but not of such large Books.
You seem desirous of knowing what Progress we make here in improving our Governments. We are, I think, in the right Road of Improvement, for we are making Experiments. I do not oppose all that seem wrong, for the Multitude are more effectually set right by Experience, than kept from going wrong by Reasoning with them. And I think we are daily more and more enlightened; so that I have no doubt of our obtaining in a few Years as much public Felicity, as good Government is capable of affording.
Your NewsPapers are fill'd with fictitious Accounts of Anarchy, Confusion, Distresses, and Miseries, we are suppos'd to be involv'd in, as Consequences of the Revolution; and the few remaining Friends of the old Government among us take pains to magnify every little Inconvenience a Change in the Course of Commerce may have occasion'd. To obviate the Complaints they endeavour to excite, was written the enclos'd little Piece,[125] from which you may form a truer Idea of our Situation, than your own public Prints would give you. And I can assure you, that the great Body of our Nation find themselves happy in the Change, and have not the smallest Inclination to return to the Domination of Britain. There could not be a stronger Proof of the general Approbation of the Measures, that promoted the Change, and of the Change itself, than has been given by the Assembly and Council of this State, in the nearly unanimous Choice for their Governor, of one who had been so much concern'd in those Measures, the Assembly being themselves the unbrib'd Choice of the People, and therefore may be truly suppos'd of the same Sentiments. I say nearly unanimous, because, of between 70 and 80 Votes, there were only my own and one other in the negative.
As to my Domestic Circumstances, of which you kindly desire to hear something, they are at present as happy as I could wish them. I am surrounded by my Offspring, a Dutiful and Affectionate Daughter in my House, with Six Grandchildren, the eldest of which you have seen, who is now at a College in the next Street, finishing the learned Part of his Education; the others promising, both for Parts and good Dispositions. What their Conduct may be, when they grow up and enter the important Scenes of Life, I shall not live to _see_, and I cannot _foresee_. I therefore enjoy among them the present Hour, and leave the future to Providence.
He that raises a large Family does, indeed, while he lives to observe them, _stand_, as Watts says, _a broader Mark for Sorrow_; but then he stands a broader Mark for Pleasure too. When we launch our little Fleet of Barques into the Ocean, bound to different Ports, we hope for each a prosperous Voyage; but contrary Winds, hidden Shoals, Storms, and Enemies come in for a Share in the Disposition of Events; and though these occasion a Mixture of Disappointment, yet, considering the Risque where we can make no Insurance, we should think ourselves happy if some return with Success. My Son's Son, Temple Franklin, whom you have also seen, having had a fine Farm of 600 Acres[126] convey'd to him by his Father when we were at Southampton, has drop'd for the present his Views of acting in the political Line, and applies himself ardently to the Study and Practice of Agriculture. This is much more agreable to me, who esteem it the most useful, the most independent, and therefore the noblest of Employments. His Lands are on navigable water, communicating with the Delaware, and but about 16 Miles from this City. He has associated to himself a very skillful English Farmer lately arrived here, who is to instruct him in the Business, and partakes for a Term of the Profits; so that there is a great apparent Probability of their Success.
You will kindly expect a Word or two concerning myself. My Health and Spirits continue, Thanks to God, as when you saw me. The only complaint I then had, does not grow worse, and is tolerable. I still have Enjoyment in the Company of my Friends; and, being easy in my Circumstances, have many Reasons to like Living. But the Course of Nature must soon put a period to my present Mode of Existence. This I shall submit to with less Regret, as, having seen during a long Life a good deal of this World, I feel a growing Curiosity to be acquainted with some other; and can chearfully, with filial Confidence, resign my Spirit to the conduct of that great and good Parent of Mankind, who created it, and who has so graciously protected and prospered me from my Birth to the present Hour. Wherever I am, I hope always to retain the pleasing remembrance of your Friendship, being with sincere and great Esteem, my dear Friend, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. We all join in Respects to Mrs. Shipley, and best wishes for the whole amiable Family.
TO -------- [127]
Phila. July 3, 1786 [?].
DEAR SIR,
I have read your Manuscript with some Attention. By the Argument it contains against the Doctrines of a particular Providence, tho' you allow a general Providence, you strike at the Foundation of all Religion. For without the Belief of a Providence, that takes Cognizance of, guards, and guides, and may favour particular Persons, there is no Motive to Worship a Deity, to fear its Displeasure, or to pray for its Protection. I will not enter into any Discussion of your Principles, tho' you seem to desire it. At present I shall only give you my Opinion, that, though your Reasonings are subtile, and may prevail with some Readers, you will not succeed so as to change the general Sentiments of Mankind on that Subject, and the Consequence of printing this Piece will be, a great deal of Odium drawn upon yourself, Mischief to you, and no Benefit to others. He that spits against the Wind, spits in his own Face.[128]
But, were you to succeed, do you imagine any Good would be done by it? You yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous Life, without the Assistance afforded by Religion; you having a clear Perception of the Advantages of Virtue, and the Disadvantages of Vice, and possessing a Strength of Resolution sufficient to enable you to resist common Temptations. But think how great a Proportion of Mankind consists of weak and ignorant Men and Women, and of inexperienc'd, and inconsiderate Youth of both Sexes, who have need of the Motives of Religion to restrain them from Vice, to support their Virtue, and retain them in the Practice of it till it becomes _habitual_, which is the great Point for its Security. And perhaps you are indebted to her originally, that is, to your Religious Education, for the Habits of Virtue upon which you now justly value yourself. You might easily display your excellent Talents of reasoning upon a less hazardous subject, and thereby obtain a Rank with our most distinguish'd Authors. For among us it is not necessary, as among the Hottentots, that a Youth, to be receiv'd into the Company of men, should prove his Manhood by beating his Mother.
I would advise you, therefore, not to attempt unchaining the Tyger, but to burn this Piece before it is seen by any other Person; whereby you will save yourself a great deal of Mortification from the Enemies it may raise against you, and perhaps a good deal of Regret and Repentance. If men are so wicked as we now see them _with religion_, what would they be _if without it_. I intend this Letter itself as a _Proof_ of my Friendship, and therefore add no _Professions_ to it; but subscribe simply yours,
B. F.
SPEECH IN THE CONVENTION; ON THE SUBJECT OF SALARIES[129]
[Delivered June 2, 1787]
SIR,
It is with Reluctance that I rise to express a Disapprobation of any one Article of the Plan, for which we are so much obliged to the honourable Gentleman who laid it before us. From its first Reading, I have borne a good Will to it, and, in general, wish'd it Success. In this Particular of Salaries to the Executive Branch, I happen to differ; and, as my Opinion may appear new and chimerical, it is only from a Persuasion that it is right, and from a Sense of Duty, that I hazard it. The Committee will judge of my Reasons when they have heard them, and their judgment may possibly change mine. I think I see Inconveniences in the Appointment of Salaries; I see none in refusing them, but on the contrary great Advantages.
Sir, there are two Passions which have a powerful Influence in the Affairs of Men. These are _Ambition_ and _Avarice_, the Love of Power and the Love of Money. Separately, each of these has great Force in prompting Men to Action; but when united in View of the same Object, they have in many Minds the most violent Effects. Place before the Eyes of such Men a Post of _Honour_, that shall at the same time be a Place of _Profit_, and they will move Heaven and Earth to obtain it. The vast Number of such Places it is that renders the British Government so tempestuous. The Struggles for them are the true Source of all those Factions which are perpetually dividing the Nation, distracting its Councils, hurrying it sometimes into fruitless and mischievous Wars, and often compelling a Submission to dishonourable Terms of Peace.
And of what kind are the men that will strive for this profitable Preëminence, thro' all the Bustle of Cabal, the Heat of Contention, the infinite mutual Abuse of Parties, tearing to Pieces the best of Characters? It will not be the wise and moderate, the Lovers of Peace and good Order, the men fittest for the Trust. It will be the Bold and the Violent, the men of strong Passions and indefatigable Activity in their selfish Pursuits. These will thrust themselves into your Government, and be your Rulers. And these, too, will be mistaken in the expected Happiness of their Situation; for their vanquish'd competitors, of the same Spirit, and from the same Motives, will perpetually be endeavouring to distress their Administration, thwart their Measures, and render them odious to the People.
Besides these Evils, Sir, tho' we may set out in the Beginning with moderate Salaries, we shall find, that such will not be of long Continuance. Reasons will never be wanting for propos'd Augmentations, and there will always be a Party for giving more to the Rulers, that the Rulers may be able in Return to give more to them. Hence, as all History informs us, there has been in every State and Kingdom a constant kind of Warfare between the Governing and the Governed; the one striving to obtain more for its Support, and the other to pay less. And this has alone occasion'd great Convulsions, actual Civil Wars, ending either in dethroning of the Princes or enslaving of the People. Generally, indeed, the Ruling Power carries its Point, and we see the Revenues of Princes constantly increasing, and we see that they are never satisfied, but always in want of more. The more the People are discontented with the Oppression of Taxes, the greater Need the Prince has of Money to distribute among his Partisans, and pay the Troops that are to suppress all Resistance, and enable him to plunder at Pleasure. There is scarce a King in a hundred, who would not, if he could, follow the Example of Pharaoh,--get first all the People's Money, then all their Lands, and then make them and their Children Servants for ever. It will be said, that we do not propose to establish Kings. I know it. But there is a natural Inclination in Mankind to kingly Government. It sometimes relieves them from Aristocratic Domination. They had rather have one Tyrant than 500. It gives more of the Appearance of Equality among Citizens; and that they like. I am apprehensive, therefore,--perhaps too apprehensive,--that the Government of these States may in future times end in a Monarchy. But this Catastrophe, I think, may be long delay'd, if in our propos'd System we do not sow the Seeds of Contention, Faction, and Tumult, by making our Posts of Honour Places of Profit. If we do, I fear, that, tho' we employ at first a Number and not a single Person, the Number will in time be set aside; it will only nourish the Foetus of a King (as the honourable Gentleman from Virg^a very aptly express'd it), and a King will the sooner be set over us.
It may be imagined by some, that this is an Utopian Idea, and that we can never find Men to serve us in the Executive Department, without paying them well for their Services. I conceive this to be a Mistake. Some existing Facts present themselves to me, which incline me to a contrary Opinion. The High Sheriff of a County in England is an honourable Office, but it is not a profitable one. It is rather expensive, and therefore not sought for. But yet it is executed, and well executed, and usually by some of the principal Gentlemen of the County. In France, the Office of Counsellor, or Member of their judiciary Parliaments, is more honourable. It is therefore purchas'd at a High Price; there are indeed Fees on the Law Proceedings, which are divided among them, but these Fees do not amount to more than three per cent on the Sum paid for the Place. Therefore, as legal Interest is there at five per cent, they in fact pay two per cent for being allow'd to do the Judiciary Business of the Nation, which is at the same time entirely exempt from the Burthen of paying them any Salaries for their Services. I do not, however, mean to recommend this as an eligible Mode for our judiciary Department. I only bring the Instance to show, that the Pleasure of doing Good and serving their Country, and the Respect such Conduct entitles them to, are sufficient Motives with some Minds, to give up a great Portion of their Time to the Public, without the mean Inducement of pecuniary Satisfaction.
Another Instance is that of a respectable Society, who have made the Experiment, and practis'd it with Success, now more than a hundred years. I mean the Quakers. It is an establish'd Rule with them that they are not to go to law, but in their Controversies they must apply to their Monthly, Quarterly, and Yearly Meetings. Committees of these sit with Patience to hear the Parties, and spend much time in composing their Differences. In doing this, they are supported by a Sense of Duty, and the Respect paid to Usefulness. It is honourable to be so employ'd, but it was never made profitable by Salaries, Fees, or Perquisites. And indeed, in all Cases of public Service, the less the Profit the greater the Honour.
To bring the Matter nearer home, have we not seen the greatest and most important of our Offices, that of General of our Armies, executed for Eight Years together, without the smallest Salary, by a patriot whom I will not now offend by any other Praise; and this, thro' Fatigues and Distresses, in common with the other brave Men, his military Friends and Companions, and the constant Anxieties peculiar to his Station? And shall we doubt finding three or four Men in all the United States, with public Spirit enough to bear sitting in peaceful Council, for perhaps an equal Term, merely to preside over our civil Concerns, and see that our Laws are duly executed? Sir, I have a better opinion of our Country. I think we shall never be without a sufficient Number of wise and good Men to undertake, and execute well and faithfully, the Office in question.
Sir, the Saving of the Salaries, that may at first be propos'd, is not an object with me. The subsequent Mischiefs of proposing them are what I apprehend. And therefore it is that I move the Amendment. If it is not seconded or accepted, I must be contented with the Satisfaction of having delivered my Opinion frankly, and done my Duty.
MOTION FOR PRAYERS IN THE CONVENTION
[Motion made June 28, 1787]
MR. PRESIDENT,
The small Progress we have made, after 4 or 5 Weeks' close Attendance and continual Reasonings with each other, our different Sentiments on almost every Question, several of the last producing as many _Noes_ as _Ayes_, is, methinks, a melancholy Proof of the Imperfection of the Human Understanding. We indeed seem to _feel_ our own want of political Wisdom, since we have been running all about in Search of it. We have gone back to ancient History for Models of Government, and examin'd the different Forms of those Republics, which, having been orig[i]nally form'd with the Seeds of their own Dissolution, now no longer exist; and we have view'd modern States all round Europe, but find none of their Constitutions suitable to our Circumstances.
In this Situation of this Assembly, groping, as it were, in the dark to find Political Truth, and scarce able to distinguish it when presented to us, how has it happened, Sir, that we have not hitherto once thought of humbly applying to the Father of Lights to illuminate our Understandings? In the Beginning of the Contest with Britain, when we were sensible of Danger, we had daily Prayers in this Room for the Divine Protection. Our Prayers, Sir, were heard;--and they were graciously answered. All of us, who were engag'd in the Struggle, must have observed frequent Instances of a superintending Providence in our Favour. To that kind Providence we owe this happy Opportunity of Consulting in Peace on the Means of establishing our future national Felicity. And have we now forgotten that powerful Friend? or do we imagine we no longer need its assistance? I have lived, Sir, a long time; and the longer I live, the more convincing proofs I see of this Truth, _that_ GOD _governs in the Affairs of Men_. And if a Sparrow cannot fall to the Ground without His Notice, is it probable that an Empire can rise without His Aid? We have been assured, Sir, in the Sacred Writings, that "except the Lord build the House, they labour in vain that build it." I firmly believe this; and I also believe, that, without his concurring Aid, we shall succeed in this political Building no better than the Builders of Babel; we shall be divided by our little, partial, local Interests, our Projects will be confounded, and we ourselves shall become a Reproach and a Bye-word down to future Ages. And, what is worse, Mankind may hereafter, from this unfortunate Instance, despair of establishing Government by human Wisdom, and leave it to Chance, War, and Conquest.
I therefore beg leave to move,
That henceforth Prayers, imploring the Assistance of Heaven and its Blessing on our Deliberations, be held in this Assembly every morning before we proceed to Business; and that one or more of the Clergy of this city be requested to officiate in that Service.[M]
[M] "The convention, except three or four persons, thought prayers unnecessary!" [_Franklin's note._]
SPEECH IN THE CONVENTION
At the Conclusion of its Deliberations[130]
[September 17, 1787]
MR. PRESIDENT,
I confess, that I do not entirely approve of this Constitution at present; but, Sir, I am not sure I shall never approve it; for, having lived long, I have experienced many instances of being obliged, by better information or fuller consideration, to change my opinions even on important subjects, which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. It is therefore that, the older I grow, the more apt I am to doubt my own judgment of others. Most men, indeed, as well as most sects in religion, think themselves in possession of all truth, and that wherever others differ from them, it is so far error. Steele, a Protestant, in a dedication, tells the Pope, that the only difference between our two churches in their opinions of the certainty of their doctrine, is, the Romish Church is _infallible_, and the Church of England is _never in the wrong_. But, though many private Persons think almost as highly of their own infallibility as of that of their Sect, few express it so naturally as a certain French Lady, who, in a little dispute with her sister, said, "But I meet with nobody but myself that is _always_ in the right." "_Je ne trouve que moi qui aie toujours raison._"
In these sentiments, Sir, I agree to this Constitution, with all its faults,--if they are such; because I think a general Government necessary for us, and there is no _form_ of government but what may be a blessing to the people, 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 become so corrupted as to need despotic government, being incapable of any other. I doubt, too, whether any other Convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better constitution; for, when you assemble a number of men, to have the advantage of their joint wisdom, you inevitably assemble with those men all their prejudices, their passions, their errors of opinion, their local interests, and their selfish views. From such an assembly can a _perfect_ production be expected? It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this system approaching so near to perfection as it does; and I think it will astonish our enemies, who are waiting with confidence 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 cutting one another's throats. Thus I consent, Sir, to this Constitution, because I expect no better, and because I am not sure that it 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 Constituents, were to report the objections he has had to it, and endeavour to gain Partisans in support of them, we might prevent its being generally received, and thereby lose all the salutary effects and great advantages resulting naturally in our favour among foreign nations, as well as among ourselves, from 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 governors. I hope, therefore, for our own sakes, as a part of the people, and for the sake of our posterity, that we shall act heartily and unanimously in recommending this Constitution, wherever our Influence may extend, and turn our future thoughts and endeavours to the means of having it _well administered_.
On the whole, Sir, I cannot help expressing a wish, that every member of the Convention who may still have objections to it, would with me on this occasion doubt a little of his own infallibility, and, to make _manifest_ our _unanimity_, put his name to this Instrument.
[Then the motion was made for adding the last formula, viz. "Done in convention by the Unanimous Consent," &c.; which was agreed to and added accordingly.]
TO THE EDITORS OF THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE
_On the Abuse of the Press_
[1788]
MESSRS. HALL AND SELLERS,
I lately heard a remark, that on examination of _The Pennsylvania Gazette_ for fifty years, from its commencement, it appeared, that, during that long period, scarce one libellous piece had ever appeared in it. This generally chaste conduct of your paper is much to its reputation; for it has long been the opinion of sober, judicious people, that nothing is more likely to endanger the liberty of the press, than the abuse of that liberty, by employing it in personal accusation, detraction, and calumny. The excesses some of our papers have been guilty of in this particular, have set this State in a bad light abroad, as appears by the following letter, which I wish you to publish, not merely to show your own disapprobation of the practice, but as a caution to others of the profession throughout the United States. For I have seen a European newspaper, in which the editor, who had been charged with frequently calumniating the Americans, justifies himself by saying, "that he had published nothing disgraceful to us, which he had not taken from our own printed papers." I am, &c.
A. B.
"New York, March 30, 1788.
"DEAR FRIEND,
"My Gout has at length left me, after five Months' painful Confinement. It afforded me, however, the Leisure to read, or hear read, all the Packets of your various Newspapers, which you so kindly sent for my Amusement.
"Mrs. W. has partaken of it; she likes to read the Advertisements; but she remarks some kind of Inconsistency in the announcing so many Diversions for almost every Evening of the Week, and such Quantities to be sold of expensive Superfluities, Fineries, and Luxuries _just imported_, in a Country, that at the same time fills its Papers with Complaints of _Hard Times_, and Want of Money. I tell her, that such Complaints are common to all Times and all Countries, and were made even in Solomon's Time; when, as we are told, Silver was as plenty in Jerusalem as the Stones in the Street; and yet, even then, there were People who grumbled, so as to incur this Censure from that knowing Prince. '_Say not thou that the former Times were better than these; for thou dost not enquire rightly concerning that matter._'
"But the Inconsistence that strikes me the most is, that between the Name of your City, Philadelphia, (_Brotherly Love_,) and the Spirit of Rancour, Malice, and _Hatred_ that breathes in its Newspapers. For I learn from those Papers, that your State is divided into Parties, that each Party ascribes all the public Operations of the other to vicious Motives; that they do not even suspect one another of the smallest Degree of Honesty; that the anti-federalists are such, merely from the Fear of losing Power, Places, or Emoluments, which they have in Possession or in Expectation; that the Federalists are a set of _Conspirators_, who aim at establishing a Tyranny over the Persons and Property of their Countrymen, and to live in Splendor on the Plunder of the People. I learn, too, that your Justices of the Peace, tho' chosen by their Neighbours, make a villainous Trade of their Office, and promote Discord to augment Fees, and fleece their Electors; and that this would not be mended by placing the Choice in the Executive Council, who, with interested or party Views, are continually making as improper Appointments; witness a '_petty Fidler, Sycophant, and Scoundrel_,' appointed Judge of the Admiralty; '_an old Woman and Fomenter of Sedition_' to be another of the Judges, and '_a Jeffries_' Chief Justice, &c., &c.; with '_two Harpies_' the Comptroller and Naval Officers, to prey upon the Merchants and deprive them of their Property by Force of Arms, &c.
"I am inform'd also by these Papers, that your General Assembly, tho' the annual choice of the People, shows no Regard to their Rights, but from sinister Views or Ignorance makes Laws in direct Violation of the Constitution, to divest the Inhabitants of their Property and give it to Strangers and Intruders; and that the Council, either fearing the Resentment of their Constituents, or plotting to enslave them, had projected to disarm them, and given Orders for that purpose; and finally, that your President, the unanimous joint choice of the Council and Assembly, is '_an old Rogue_,' who gave his Assent to the federal Constitution merely to avoid refunding Money he had purloin'd from the United States.
"There is, indeed, a good deal of manifest _Inconsistency_ in all this, and yet a Stranger, seeing it in your own Prints, tho' he does not believe it all, may probably believe enough of it to conclude, that Pennsylvania is peopled by a Set of the most unprincipled, wicked, rascally, and quarrelsome Scoundrels upon the Face of the Globe. I have sometimes, indeed, suspected, that those Papers are the Manufacture of foreign Enemies among you, who write with a view of disgracing your Country, and making you appear contemptible and detestable all the World over; but then I wonder at the Indiscretion of your Printers in publishing such Writings! There is, however, one of your _Inconsistencies_ that consoles me a little, which is, that tho' _living_, you give one another the characters of Devils; _dead_, you are all Angels! It is delightful, when any of you die, to read what good Husbands, good Fathers, good Friends, good Citizens, and good Christians you were, concluding with a Scrap of Poetry that places you, with certainty, every one in Heaven. So that I think Pennsylvania a good country _to dye in_, though a very bad one to _live in_."
TO REV. JOHN LATHROP[131]
Philad^a, May 31, 1788.
REVEREND SIR,
... I have been long impressed with the same sentiments you so well express, of the growing felicity of mankind, from the improvements in philosophy, morals, politics, and even the conveniences of common living, by the invention and acquisition of new and useful utensils and instruments, that I have sometimes almost wished it had been my destiny to be born two or three centuries hence. For invention and improvement are prolific, and beget more of their kind. The present progress is rapid. Many of great importance, now unthought of, will before that period be produced; and then I might not only enjoy their advantages, but have my curiosity gratified in knowing what they are to be. I see a little absurdity in what I have just written, but it is to a friend, who will wink and let it pass, while I mention one reason more for such a wish, which is, that, if the art of physic shall be improved in proportion with other arts, we may then be able to avoid diseases, and live as long as the patriarchs in Genesis; to which I suppose we should make little objection....
B. FRANKLIN.
TO THE EDITOR OF THE FEDERAL GAZETTE
A COMPARISON OF THE CONDUCT OF THE ANCIENT JEWS AND OF THE ANTI-FEDERALISTS IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
[1788?]
A zealous Advocate for the propos'd Federal Constitution, in a certain public Assembly, said, that "the Repugnance of a great part of Mankind to good Government was such, that he believed, that, if an angel from Heaven was to bring down a Constitution form'd there for our Use, it would nevertheless meet with violent Opposition." He was reprov'd for the suppos'd Extravagance of the Sentiment; and he did not justify it. Probably it might not have immediately occur'd to him, that the Experiment had been try'd, 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 up a single Family, by continued Acts of his attentive Providence, till it became a great People; and, having rescued them from Bondage by many Miracles, performed by his Servant Moses, he personally deliver'd to that chosen Servant, in the presence of the whole Nation, a Constitution and Code of Laws for their Observance; accompanied and sanction'd with Promises of great Rewards, and Threats of severe Punishments, as the Consequence of their Obedience or Disobedience.
This Constitution, tho' the Deity himself was to be at its Head (and it is therefore call'd by Political Writers a _Theocracy_), could not be carried into Execution but by the Means of his Ministers; Aaron and his Sons were therefore commission'd to be, with Moses, the first establish'd Ministry of the new Government.
One would have thought, that this Appointment of Men, who had distinguish'd 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 retain'd that Nation in Slavery, might have been an Appointment acceptable to a grateful People; and that a Constitution fram'd for them by the Deity himself might, on that Account, have been secure of a universal welcome Reception. Yet there were in every one of the _thirteen Tribes_ some discontented, restless Spirits, who were continually exciting them to reject the propos'd 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, tho' the natural and unavoidable Effect of their Change of Situation, exclaim'd against their Leaders as the Authors of their Trouble; and were not only for returning into Egypt, but for stoning their deliverers.[N] Those inclin'd to idolatry were displeas'd that their _Golden Calf_ was destroy'd. Many of the Chiefs thought the new Constitution might be injurious to their particular Interests, that the _profitable Places_ would be _engrossed by the Families and Friends of Moses and Aaron_, and others equally well-born excluded.[O] In Josephus and the Talmud, we learn some Particulars, not so fully narrated in the Scripture. We are there told, "That Corah 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 accus'd Moses of having, by various Artifices, fraudulently obtain'd the Government, and depriv'd the People of their Liberties; and of _conspiring_ with Aaron to perpetuate the Tyranny in their Family. Thus, tho' Corah's real Motive was the Supplanting of Aaron, he persuaded the People that he meant only the _Public Good_, and they, moved by his Insinuations, began to cry out, 'Let us maintain the Common Liberty of our _respective Tribes_; we have freed ourselves from the Slavery impos'd on us by the Egyptians, and shall we now 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 in question the _Reality of his Conference_ with God; and objected the _Privacy of the Meetings_, and the _preventing any of the People from being present_ at the Colloquies, or even approaching the Place, as Grounds of great Suspicion. They accused Moses also of _Peculation_; as embezzling part of the Golden Spoons and the Silver Chargers, that the Princes had offer'd at the Dedication of the Altar,[P] and the Offerings of Gold by the common People,[Q] as well as most of the Poll-Tax;[R] and Aaron they accus'd of pocketing much of the Gold of which he pretended to have made a molten Calf. Besides _Peculation_, they charg'd Moses with _Ambition_; to gratify which Passion he had, they said, deceiv'd the People, by promising to bring them _to_ a land flowing with Milk and Honey; instead of doing which, he had brought them _from_ such a Land; and that he thought light of all this mischief, provided he could make himself an _absolute Prince_.[S] That, to support the new Dignity with Splendor in his Family, the partial Poll-Tax already levied and given to Aaron[T] was to be follow'd by a general one,[U] which would probably be augmented from time to time, if he were suffered to go on promulgating new Laws, on pretence of new occasional Revelations of the divine Will, till their whole Fortunes were devour'd by that Aristocracy."
[N] Numbers, ch. xiv. [_Franklin's note._]
[O] Numbers, ch. xiv, verse 3. "And they gathered themselves together against Moses and 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?'"
[P] Numbers, ch. vii.
[Q] Exodus, ch. xxxv, verse 22.
[R] Numbers, ch. iii, and Exodus, ch. xxx. [_Franklin's notes._]
[S] Numbers, ch. xvi, verse 13. "Is it a small thing that thou hast brought us up out of a land that floweth with milk and honey, to kill us in the wilderness, except thou make thyself altogether a prince over us?"
[T] Numbers, ch. iii.
[U] Exodus, ch. xxx.
Moses deny'd the Charge of Peculation; and his Accusers were destitute of Proofs to support it; tho' _Facts_, if real, are in their Nature capable of Proof. "I have not," said he (with holy Confidence in the Presence of his 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 believ'd, 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,"[V] heading and exciting the Mob, worked them up to such a pitch of Frenzy, that they called out, "Stone 'em, stone 'em, and thereby _secure our Liberties_; and let us chuse other Captains, that may lead us back into Egypt, in case we do not succeed in reducing the Canaanites!"
[V] Numbers, ch. xvi. [_Franklin's notes._]
On the whole, it appears, that the Israelites were a People jealous of their newly-acquired Liberty, which Jealousy was in itself no Fault; but, when they suffer'd it to be work'd 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 appears further, from the same inestimable History, that, when after many Ages that Constitution was become old and much abus'd, and an Amendment of it was propos'd, the populace, as they had accus'd 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 exclaim'd against the Messiah, that he aim'd at becoming King of the Jews, and cry'd out, "_Crucify him, _Crucify him_." From all which we may gather, that popular Opposition to a public Measure is no Proof of its Impropriety, even tho' the Opposition 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 form'd 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 such momentous Importance to the Welfare of Millions now existing, and to exist in the Posterity of a great Nation, should be suffered to pass without being in some degree influenc'd, guided, and governed by that omnipotent, omnipresent, and beneficent Ruler, in whom all inferior Spirits live, and move, and have their Being.
B. F.
TO CHARLES CARROLL[132]
Philadelphia, May 25, 1789.
DEAR FRIEND,
I am glad to see by the papers, that our grand machine has at length begun to work. I pray God to bless and guide its operations. If any form of government is capable of making a nation happy, ours I think bids fair now for producing that effect. But, after all, much depends upon the people who are to be governed. We have been guarding against an evil that old States are most liable to, _excess of power_ in the rulers; but our present danger seems to be _defect of obedience_ in the subjects.[133] There is hope, however, from the enlightened state of this age and country, we may guard effectually against that evil as well as the rest.
My grandson, William Temple Franklin, will have the honour of presenting this line. He accompanied me to France, and remained with me during my mission. I beg leave to recommend him to your notice, and that you would believe me, my dear friend, yours most affectionately,
B. FRANKLIN.
AN ACCOUNT OF THE SUPREMEST COURT OF JUDICATURE IN PENNSYLVANIA, VIZ. THE COURT OF THE PRESS
[From the _Federal Gazette_, September 12, 1789.]
_Power of this Court._
It may receive and promulgate accusations of all kinds, against all persons and characters among the citizens of the State, and even against all inferior courts; and may judge, sentence, and condemn to infamy, not only private individuals, but public bodies, &c., with or without inquiry or hearing, _at the court's discretion_.
_In whose Favour and for whose Emolument this Court is established._
In favour of about one citizen in five hundred, who, by education or practice in scribbling, has acquired a tolerable style as to grammar and construction, so as to bear printing; or who is possessed of a press and a few types. This five hundredth part of the citizens have the privilege 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 the Court._
It is not governed by any of the rules of 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 suddenly and unexpectedly accus'd, and in the same Morning judg'd and condemn'd, and sentence pronounc'd against him, that he is a _Rogue_ and a _Villain_. Yet, if an officer of this court receives the slightest check for misconduct in this his office, he claims immediately the rights of a free citizen by the constitution, and demands to know his accuser, to confront the witnesses, and to have a fair trial by a jury of his peers.
_The Foundation of its Authority._
It is said to be founded on an Article of the Constitution of the State, which establishes _the Liberty of the Press_; a Liberty which every Pennsylvanian would fight and die for; tho' 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 _press'd_ to death or hanged. If by the _Liberty of the Press_ were understood merely the Liberty of discussing the Propriety of Public Measures and political opinions, let us have as much of it as you please: But if it means the Liberty of affronting, calumniating, and defaming one another, I, for my part, own myself willing to part With my Share of it when our Legislators shall please so to alter the Law, and shall cheerfully consent to exchange my _Liberty_ of Abusing others for the _Privilege_ of not being abus'd myself.
_By whom this Court is commissioned or constituted._
It is not by any Commission from the Supreme Executive Council, who might previously judge of the Abilities, Integrity, Knowledge, &c. of the Persons to be appointed to this great Trust, of deciding upon the Characters and good Fame of the Citizens; for this Court is above that Council, and may _accuse_, _judge_, and _condemn_ it, at pleasure. Nor is it hereditary, as in the Court of _dernier Resort_, in the Peerage of England. But any Man who can procure Pen, Ink, and Paper, with a Press, and a huge pair of BLACKING Balls, may commissionate himself; and his court is immediately established in the plenary Possession and exercise of its rights. For, if 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 flitters, marks you out for the odium of the public, as an _enemy to the liberty of the press_.
_Of the natural Support of these Courts._
Their 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 Neighbour's Shame."
Hence;
"On Eagle's Wings immortal Scandals fly, While virtuous Actions are but born and die." DRYDEN.
Whoever feels pain in hearing a good character of his neighbour, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And of those who, despairing to rise into distinction by their virtues, are happy if others can be depressed to a level with themselves, there are a number sufficient in every great town to maintain one of these courts by their subscriptions. A shrewd observer once said, that, in walking the streets in a slippery morning, one might see where the good-natured people lived by the ashes thrown on the ice before their doors; probably he would have formed a different conjecture of the temper of those whom he might find engaged in such a subscription.
_Of the Checks proper to be established against the Abuse of Power in these Courts._
Hitherto there are none. But since so much has been written and published on the federal Constitution, and the necessity of checks in all other parts of good government has been so clearly and learnedly explained, I find myself so far enlightened as to suspect some check may be proper in this part also; but I have been at a loss to imagine any that may not be construed an infringement of the sacred _liberty of the press_. At length, however, I think I have found one that, instead of diminishing general liberty, shall augment it; which is, by restoring to the people a species of liberty, of which they have been deprived by our laws, I mean the _liberty of the cudgel_. In the rude state of society prior to the existence of laws, if one man gave another ill language, the affronted person would 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 untouched, to be exercised in its full extent, force, and vigor; but to permit the _liberty of the cudgel_ to go with it _pari passu_. Thus, my fellow-citizens, if an impudent writer attacks your reputation, dearer to you perhaps than your life, and puts his name to the charge, you may go to him as openly and break his head. If he conceals himself behind the printer, and you can nevertheless discover who he is, you may in like manner way-lay him in the night, attack him behind, and give him a good drubbing. 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 proceeding immediately to these extremities; but that we should in moderation content ourselves with tarring and feathering, and tossing them 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 _reputation_.
AN ADDRESS TO THE PUBLIC
From the Pennsylvania Society for Promoting the Abolition of Slavery, and the Relief of Free Negroes Unlawfully Held in Bondage.[134]
It is with peculiar satisfaction we assure the friends of humanity, that, in prosecuting the design of our association, our endeavours have proved successful, far beyond our most sanguine expectations.
Encouraged by this success, and by the daily progress of that luminous and benign spirit of liberty, which is diffusing itself throughout the world, and humbly hoping for the continuance of the divine blessing on our labours, we have ventured to make an important addition to our original plan, and do therefore earnestly solicit the support and assistance of all who can feel the tender emotions of sympathy and compassion, or relish the exalted pleasure of beneficence.
Slavery is such an atrocious debasement of human nature, that its very extirpation, if not performed with solicitous care, may sometimes open a source of serious evils.
The unhappy man, who has long been treated as a brute animal, too frequently sinks beneath the common standard of the human species. The galling chains, that bind his body, do also fetter his intellectual faculties, and impair the social affections of his heart. Accustomed to move like a mere machine, by the will of a master, reflection is suspended; he has not the power of choice; and reason and conscience have but little influence over his conduct, because he is chiefly governed by the passion of fear. He is poor and friendless; perhaps worn out by extreme labour, age, and disease.
Under such circumstances, freedom may often prove a misfortune to himself, and prejudicial to society.
Attention to emancipated black people, it is therefore to be hoped, will become a branch of our national policy; but, as far as we contribute to promote this emancipation, so far that attention is evidently a serious duty incumbent on us, and which we mean to discharge to the best of our judgment and abilities.
To instruct, to advise, to qualify those, who have been restored to freedom, for the exercise and enjoyment of civil liberty, to promote in them habits of industry, to furnish them with employments suited to their age, sex, talents, and other circumstances, and to procure their children an education calculated for their future situation in life; these are the great outlines of the annexed plan, which we have adopted, and which we conceive will essentially promote the public good, and the happiness of these our hitherto too much neglected fellow-creatures.
A plan so extensive cannot be carried into execution without considerable pecuniary resources, beyond the present ordinary funds of the Society. We hope much from the generosity of enlightened and benevolent freemen, and will gratefully receive any donations or subscriptions for this purpose, which may be made to our treasurer, James Starr, or to James Pemberton, chairman of our committee of correspondence.
Signed, by order of the Society, B. FRANKLIN, _President_.
Philadelphia, 9th of November, 1789.
TO DAVID HARTLEY
Philad^a, Dec^r 4, 1789.
MY VERY DEAR FRIEND,
I received your Favor of August last. Your kind Condolences on the painful State of my Health are very obliging. I am thankful to God, however, that, among the numerous Ills human Life is subject to, one only of any Importance is fallen to my Lot; and that so late as almost to insure that it can be but of short Duration.
The Convulsions in France are attended with some disagreable Circumstances; but if by the Struggle she obtains and secures for the Nation its future Liberty, and a good Constitution, a few Years' Enjoyment of those Blessings will amply repair all the Damages their Acquisition may have occasioned.[135] God grant, that not only the Love of Liberty, but a thorough Knowledge of the Rights of Man, may pervade all the Nations of the Earth, so that a Philosopher may set his Foot anywhere on its Surface, and say, "This is my Country."
Your Wishes for a cordial and perpetual Friendship between Britain and her ancient Colonies are manifested continually in every one of your Letters to me; something of my Disposition on the same Subject may appear to you in casting your Eye over the enclosed Paper. I do not by this Opportunity send you any of our Gazettes, because the Postage from Liverpool would be more than they are worth. I can now only add my best Wishes of every kind of Felicity for the three amiable Hartleys, to whom I have the honor of being an affectionate friend and most obedient humble servant,
[B. FRANKLIN.]
TO EZRA STILES[136]
Philad^a, March 9, 1790.
REVEREND AND DEAR SIR,
I received your kind Letter of Jan'y 28, and am glad you have at length received the portrait of Gov'r Yale from his Family, and deposited it in the College Library. He was a great and good Man, and had the Merit of doing infinite Service to your Country by his Munificence to that Institution. The Honour you propose doing me by placing mine in the same Room with his, is much too great for my Deserts; but you always had a Partiality for me, and to that it must be ascribed. I am however too much obliged to Yale College, the first learned Society that took Notice of me and adorned me with its Honours, to refuse a Request that comes from it thro' so esteemed a Friend. But I do not think any one of the Portraits you mention, as in my Possession, worthy of the Place and Company you propose to place it in. You have an excellent Artist lately arrived. If he will undertake to make one for you, I shall cheerfully pay the Expence; but he must not delay setting about it, or I may slip thro' his fingers, for I am now in my eighty-fifth year, and very infirm.
I send with this a very learned Work, as it seems to me, on the antient Samaritan Coins, lately printed in Spain, and at least curious for the Beauty of the Impression. Please to accept it for your College Library. I have subscribed for the Encyclopædia now printing here, with the Intention of presenting it to the College. I shall probably depart before the Work is finished, but shall leave Directions for its Continuance to the End. With this you will receive some of the first numbers.
You desire to know something of my Religion. It is the first time I have been questioned upon it. But I cannot take your Curiosity amiss, and shall endeavour in a few Words to gratify it. Here is my Creed. I believe in one God, Creator of the Universe. That he governs it by his Providence. That he ought to be worshipped. That the most acceptable Service we render to him is doing good to his other Children. That the soul of Man is immortal, and will be treated with Justice in another Life respecting its Conduct in this. These I take to be the fundamental Principles of all sound Religion, and I regard them as you do in whatever Sect I meet with them.
As to Jesus of Nazareth, my Opinion of whom you particularly desire, I think the System of Morals and his Religion, as he left them to us, the best the World ever saw or is likely to see; but I apprehend it has received various corrupting Changes, and I have, with most of the present Dissenters in England, some Doubts as to his Divinity; tho' it is a question I do not dogmatize upon, having never studied it, and think it needless to busy myself with it now, when I expect soon an Opportunity of knowing the Truth with less Trouble. I see no harm, however, in its being believed, if that Belief has the good Consequence, as probably it has, of making his Doctrines more respected and better observed; especially as I do not perceive, that the Supreme takes it amiss, by distinguishing the Unbelievers in his Government of the World with any peculiar Marks of his Displeasure.
I shall only add, respecting myself, that, having experienced the Goodness of that Being in conducting me prosperously thro' a long life, I have no doubt of its Continuance in the next, though without the smallest Conceit of meriting such Goodness. My Sentiments on this Head you will see in the Copy of an old Letter enclosed, which I wrote in answer to one from a zealous Religionist, whom I had relieved in a paralytic case by electricity, and who, being afraid I should grow proud upon it, sent me his serious though rather impertinent Caution. I send you also the Copy of another Letter, which will shew something of my Disposition relating to Religion. With great and sincere Esteem and Affection, I am, Your obliged old Friend and most obedient humble Servant
B. FRANKLIN.
P.S. Had not your College some Present of Books from the King of France? Please to let me know, if you had an Expectation given you of more, and the Nature of that Expectation? I have a Reason for the Enquiry.
I confide, that you will not expose me to Criticism and censure by publishing any part of this Communication to you. I have ever let others enjoy their religious Sentiments, without reflecting on them for those that appeared to me unsupportable and even absurd. All Sects here, and we have a great Variety, have experienced my good will in assisting them with Subscriptions for building their new Places of Worship; and, as I have never opposed any of their Doctrines, I hope to go out of the World in Peace with them all.
ON THE SLAVE-TRADE
TO THE EDITOR OF THE FEDERAL GAZETTE[137]
March 23d, 1790.
SIR,
Reading last night in your excellent Paper the speech of Mr. Jackson in Congress against their meddling with the Affair of Slavery, or attempting to mend the Condition of the Slaves, it put me in mind of a similar One made about 100 Years since by Sidi Mehemet Ibrahim, a member of the Divan of Algiers, which may be seen in Martin's Account of his Consulship, anno 1687. It was against granting the Petition of the Sect called _Erika_, or Purists, who pray'd for the Abolition of Piracy and Slavery as being unjust. Mr. Jackson does not quote it; perhaps he has not seen it. If, therefore, some of its Reasonings are to be found in his eloquent Speech, it may only show that men's Interests and Intellects operate and are operated on with surprising similarity in all Countries and Climates, when under similar Circumstances. The African's Speech, as translated, is as follows:
_"Allah Bismillah, &c. God is great, and Mahomet is his Prophet._
"Have these _Erika_ considered the Consequences of granting their Petition? If we cease our Cruises against the Christians, how shall we be furnished with the Commodities their Countries produce, and which are so necessary for 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 Labours of our City, and in our Families? Must we not then be our own Slaves? And is there not more Compassion and more Favour due to us as Mussulmen, than to these Christian Dogs? We have now above 50,000 Slaves in and near Algiers. This Number, if not kept up by fresh Supplies, will soon diminish, and be gradually annihilated. If we then cease taking and plundering the Infidel Ships, and making Slaves of the Seamen and Passengers, our Lands will become of no Value for want of Cultivation; the Rents of Houses in the City will sink one half; and the Revenues of Government arising from its Share of Prizes be totally destroy'd! And for what? To gratify the whims of a whimsical Sect, who would have us, not only forbear making more Slaves, but even to manumit those we have.
"But who is to indemnify their Masters for the Loss? Will the State do it? Is our Treasury sufficient? Will the _Erika_ do it? Can they do it? Or would they, to do what they think Justice to the Slaves, do a greater Injustice to the Owners? And if we set our Slaves free, what is to be done with them? Few of them will return to their 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 long accustom'd to Slavery will not work for a Livelihood when not compell'd. And what is there so pitiable in their present Condition? Were they not Slaves in their own Countries?
"Are not Spain, Portugal, France, and the Italian states govern'd by Despots, who hold all their Subjects in Slavery, without Exception? Even England treats its Sailors as Slaves; for they are, whenever the Government pleases, seiz'd, and confin'd in Ships of War, condemn'd not only to work, but to fight, for small Wages, or a mere Subsistence, not better than our Slaves are allow'd 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 Islamism gives forth its Light, and shines in full Splendor, and they have an Opportunity of making themselves acquainted with the true Doctrine, and thereby saving their immortal Souls. Those who remain at home have not that Happiness. Sending the Slaves home then would be sending them out of Light into Darkness.
"I repeat the Question, What is to be done with them? I have heard it suggested, that they may be planted in the Wilderness, where there is plenty of Land for them to subsist on, and where they may flourish as a free State; but they are, I doubt, too little dispos'd to labour without Compulsion, as well as too ignorant to establish a good government, and the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy or again enslave them. While serving us, we take care to provide them with every thing, and they are treated with Humanity. The Labourers in their own Country are, as I am well informed, worse fed, lodged, and cloathed. The Condition of most of them is therefore already mended, and requires no further Improvement. Here their Lives are in Safety. They are not liable to be impress'd for Soldiers, and forc'd to cut one another's Christian Throats, as in the Wars of their own Countries. If some of the religious mad Bigots, who now teaze us with their silly Petitions, have in a Fit of blind Zeal freed their Slaves, it was not Generosity, it was not Humanity, that mov'd them to the Action; it was from the conscious Burthen of a Load of Sins, and Hope, from the supposed Merits of so good a Work, to be excus'd Damnation.
"How grossly are they mistaken in imagining Slavery to be disallow'd 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 Infidels be in that sacred Book forbidden, since it is well known from it, that God has given the World, and all that it contains, 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 Christian Slaves, the Adoption of which would, by depreciating our Lands and Houses, and thereby depriving so many good Citizens of their Properties, create universal Discontent, and provoke Insurrections, to the endangering of Government and producing general Confusion. I have therefore no doubt, but 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; "The Doctrine, that Plundering and Enslaving the Christians is unjust, is at best _problematical_, but that it is the Interest of this State to continue the Practice, is clear; 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, Mr. Brown, venture to predict, from this Account, that the Petitions to the Parliament of England for abolishing the Slave-Trade, to say nothing of other Legislatures, and the Debates upon them, will have a similar Conclusion? I am, Sir, your constant Reader and humble Servant,
HISTORICUS.
REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES OF NORTH AMERICA[138]
Savages we call them, because their Manners differ from ours, which we think the Perfection of Civility; they think the same of theirs.
Perhaps, if we could examine the Manners of different Nations with Impartiality, we should find no People so rude, as to be without any Rules of Politeness; nor any so polite, as not to have some Remains of Rudeness.
The Indian Men, when young, are Hunters and Warriors; when old, Counsellors; for all their Government is by Counsel of the Sages; there is no Force, there are no Prisons, no Officers to compel Obedience, or inflict Punishment. Hence they generally study Oratory, the best Speaker having the most Influence. The Indian Women till the Ground, dress the Food, nurse and bring up the Children, and preserve and hand down to Posterity the Memory of public Transactions. These Employments of Men and Women are accounted natural and honourable. Having few artificial Wants, they have abundance of Leisure for Improvement by Conversation. Our laborious Manner of Life, compared with theirs, they esteem slavish and base; and the Learning, on which we value ourselves, they regard as frivolous and useless. An Instance of this occurred at the Treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, _anno_ 1744, between the Government of Virginia and the Six Nations. After the principal Business was settled, the Commissioners from Virginia acquainted the Indians by a Speech, that there was at Williamsburg a College, with a Fund for Educating Indian youth; and that, if the Six Nations would send down half a dozen of their young Lads to that College, the Government would take care that they should be well provided for, and instructed in all the Learning of the White People. It is one of the Indian Rules of Politeness not to answer a public Proposition the same day that it is made; they think it would be treating it as a light matter, and that they show it Respect by taking time to consider it, as of a Matter important. They therefore deferr'd 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 convinc'd, 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 Nations have different Conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our Ideas of this kind of Education happen not to be the same with yours. We have had some Experience of it; Several of our young People were formerly brought up at the Colleges of the Northern Provinces; they were instructed in all your Sciences; but, when they came back to us, they were bad 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 Enemy, spoke our Language imperfectly, were therefore neither fit for Hunters, Warriors, nor Counsellors; they were totally good for nothing. We are however not the less oblig'd by your kind Offer, tho' we decline accepting it; and, to show our grateful Sense of it, if the Gentlemen of Virginia will send us a Dozen of their Sons, we will take great Care of their Education, 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 in the hindmost. The Business of the Women is to take exact Notice of what passes, imprint it in their Memories (for they have no Writing), and communicate it to their Children. They are the Records of the Council, and they preserve Traditions of the Stipulations in Treaties 100 Years back; which, when we compare with our Writings, we always find exact. He that would speak, rises. The rest observe a profound Silence. When he has finish'd and sits down, they leave him 5 or 6 Minutes to recollect, that, if he has omitted any thing he intended to say, or has any thing to add, he may rise again and deliver it. To interrupt another, even in common Conversation, is reckon'd highly indecent. How different this is from the conduct of a polite British House of Commons, where scarce a day passes without some Confusion, that makes the Speaker hoarse in calling to _Order_; and how different from the Mode of Conversation in many polite Companies of Europe, where, if you do not deliver your Sentence with great Rapidity, you are cut off in the middle of it by the Impatient Loquacity of those you converse with, and never suffer'd to finish it!
The Politeness of these Savages in Conversation is indeed carried to Excess, since it does not permit them to contradict or deny the Truth of what is asserted in their Presence. By this means they indeed avoid Disputes; but then it becomes difficult to know their Minds, or what Impression you make upon them. The Missionaries who have attempted to convert them to Christianity, all complain of this as one of the great Difficulties of their Mission. The Indians hear with Patience the Truths of the Gospel explain'd to them, and give their usual Tokens of Assent and Approbation; you would think they were convinc'd. No such matter. It is mere Civility.
A Swedish Minister, having assembled the chiefs of the Susquehanah Indians, made a Sermon to them, acquainting them with the principal historical Facts on which our Religion is founded; such as the Fall of our first Parents by eating an Apple, the coming of Christ to repair the Mischief, his Miracles and Suffering, &c. When he had finished, an Indian Orator stood up to thank him. "What you have told us," says he, "is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat Apples. It is better to make them all into Cyder. We are much oblig'd by your kindness in coming so far, to tell us these Things which you have heard from your Mothers. In return, I will tell you some of those we have heard from ours. In the Beginning, our Fathers had only the Flesh of Animals to subsist on; and if their Hunting was unsuccessful, they were starving. Two of our young Hunters, having kill'd a Deer, made a Fire in the Woods to broil some Part of it. When they were about to satisfy their Hunger, they beheld a beautiful young Woman descend from the Clouds, and seat herself on that Hill, which you see yonder among the Blue Mountains. They said to each other, it is a Spirit that has smelt our broiling Venison, and wishes to eat of it; let us offer some to her. They presented her with the Tongue; she was pleas'd with the Taste of it, and said, 'Your kindness shall be rewarded; come to this Place after thirteen Moons, and you shall find something that will be of great Benefit in nourishing you and your Children to the latest Generation.' They did so, and, to their Surprise, found Plants they had never seen before; but which, from that ancient time, have been constantly cultivated among us, to our great Advantage. Where her right Hand had touched the Ground, they found Maize; where her left hand had touch'd it, they found Kidney-Beans; and where her Backside had sat on it, they found Tobacco." The good Missionary, disgusted with this idle Tale, said, "What I delivered to you were sacred Truths; but what you tell me is mere Fable, Fiction, and Falshood." The Indian, offended, reply'd, "My brother, it seems your Friends have not done you Justice in your Education; they have not well instructed you in the Rules of Common Civility. You saw that we, who understand and practise those Rules, believ'd all your stories; why do you refuse to believe ours?"
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 great Rudeness, and the Effect of the Want of Instruction in the Rules of Civility and good Manners. "We have," say they, "as much Curiosity as you, and when you come into our Towns, we wish for Opportunities of looking at you; but for this purpose we hide ourselves behind Bushes, where you are to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your Company."
Their Manner of entring one another's village has likewise its Rules. It is reckon'd uncivil in travelling Strangers to enter a Village abruptly, without giving Notice of their Approach. Therefore, as soon as they arrive within hearing, they stop and hollow, remaining there till invited to enter. Two old Men usually come out to them, and lead them in. There is in every Village a vacant Dwelling, called _the Strangers' House_. Here they are plac'd, while the old Men go round from Hut to Hut, acquainting the Inhabitants, that Strangers are arriv'd, who are probably hungry and weary; and every one sends them what he can spare of Victuals, and Skins to repose on. When the Strangers are refresh'd, Pipes and Tobacco are brought; and then, but not before. Conversation begins, with Enquiries who they are, whither bound, what News, &c.; and it usually ends with offers of Service, if the Strangers have occasion of Guides, or any Necessaries for continuing their Journey; and nothing is exacted for the Entertainment.
The same Hospitality, esteem'd among them as a principal Virtue, is practis'd by private Persons; of which Conrad Weiser, our Interpreter, gave me the following Instance. He had been naturaliz'd among the Six Nations, and spoke well the Mohock Language. In going thro' the Indian Country, to carry a Message from our Governor to the Council at Onondaga, he call'd at the Habitation of Canassatego, an old Acquaintance, who embrac'd him, spread Furs for him to sit on, plac'd before him some boil'd Beans and Venison, and mix'd some Rum and Water for his Drink. When he was well refresh'd, and had lit his Pipe, Canassatego began to converse with him; ask'd how he had far'd the many Years since they had seen each other; whence he then came; what occasion'd the Journey, &c. Conrad answered all his Questions; and when the Discourse began to flag, the Indian, to continue it, said, "Conrad, you have lived long among the white People, and know something of their Customs; I have been sometimes at Albany, and have observed, that once in Seven Days they shut up their Shops, and assemble all in the great House; tell me what it is for? What do they do there?" "They meet there," says Conrad, "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 us'd generally to deal with Hans Hanson; but I was a little inclin'd this time to try some other Merchant. However, I call'd first upon Hans, and asked him what he would give for Beaver. He said he could not give any more than four Shillings a Pound; 'but,' says he, 'I cannot talk on Business now; this is the Day when we meet together to learn _Good Things_, and I am going to the Meeting.' So I thought to myself, 'Since we cannot do any Business to-day, I may as well go to the meeting too,' and I went with him. There stood up a Man in Black, and began to talk to the People very angrily. I did not understand what he said; but, perceiving that he look'd much at me and at Hanson, I imagin'd he was angry at seeing me there; so I went out, sat down near the House, struck Fire, and lit my Pipe, waiting till the Meeting should break up. I thought too, that the Man had mention'd something of Beaver, and I suspected it might be the Subject of their Meeting. So, when they came out, I 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 cannot 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 whatever they pretended of meeting to learn _good Things_, the real purpose was to consult how to cheat Indians in the Price of Beaver. Consider but a little, Conrad, and you must be of my Opinion. If they met so often to learn _good Things_, they would certainly have learnt some before this time. But they are still ignorant. You know our Practice. If a white Man, in travelling thro' our Country, enters one of our Cabins, we all treat him as I treat you; we dry him if he is wet, we warm him if he is cold, we 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 return. But, if I go into a white Man's House at Albany, and ask for Victuals and Drink, they say, 'Where is your Money?' and if I have none, they say, 'Get out, you Indian Dog.' You see they have not yet learned those little _Good Things_, that we need no Meetings to be instructed in, because our Mothers taught them to us when we were Children; and therefore it is impossible their Meetings should be, as they say, for any such purpose, or have any such Effect; they are only to contrive _the Cheating of Indians in the Price of Beaver_."
NOTE.--It is remarkable that in all Ages and Countries Hospitality has been allow'd as the Virtue of those whom the civiliz'd were pleas'd to call Barbarians. The Greeks celebrated the Scythians for it. The Saracens possess'd it eminently, and it is to this day the reigning Virtue of the wild Arabs. St. Paul, too, in the Relation of his Voyage and Shipwreck on the Island of Melita says the Barbarous People shewed us no little kindness; for they kindled a fire, and received us every one, because of the present Rain, and because of the Cold. [_Franklin's note._]
AN ARABIAN TALE[139]
Albumazar, the good magician, retired in his old age to the top of the lofty mountain Calabut; avoided the society of men, but was visited nightly by genii and spirits of the first rank, who loved him, and amused him with their instructive conversation.
Belubel, the strong, came one evening to see Albumazar; his height was seven leagues, and his wings when spread might overshadow a kingdom. He laid himself gently down between the long ridges of Elluem; the tops of the trees in the valley were his couch; his head rested on Calabut as on a pillow, and his face shone on the tent of Albumazar.
The magician spoke to him with rapturous piety of the wisdom and goodness of the Most High; but expressed his wonder at the existence of evil in the world, which he said he could not account for by all the efforts of his reason.
"Value not thyself, my friend," said Belubel, "on that quality which thou callest reason. If thou knewest its origin and its weakness, it would rather be matter of humiliation."
"Tell me then," said Albumazar, "what I do not know; inform my ignorance, and enlighten my understanding." "Contemplate," said Albumazar [_sic._ Belubel], "the scale of beings, from an elephant down to an oyster. Thou seest a gradual diminution of faculties and powers, so small in each step that the difference is scarce perceptible. There is no gap, but the gradation is complete. Men in general do not know, but thou knowest, that in ascending from an elephant to the infinitely Great, Good, and Wise, there is also a long gradation of beings, who possess powers and faculties of which thou canst yet have no conception."
A PETITION OF THE LEFT HAND
TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE SUPERINTENDENCY OF EDUCATION
[Date unknown]
I address myself to all the friends of youth, and conjure them to direct their compassionate regards to my unhappy fate, in order to remove the prejudices of which I am the victim. There are twin sisters of us; and the two eyes of man do not more resemble, nor are capable of being upon better terms with each other, than my sister and myself, were it not for the partiality of our parents, who make the most injurious distinctions between us. From my infancy, I have been led to consider my sister as a being of a 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 her writing, drawing, music, and other accomplishments; but if by chance I touched a pencil, a pen, or a needle, I was bitterly rebuked; and more than once I have been beaten for being awkward, and wanting a graceful manner. It is true, my sister associated me with her upon some occasions; but she always made a point of taking the lead, calling upon me only from necessity, or to figure by her side.
But conceive not, Sirs, that my complaints are instigated merely by vanity. No; my uneasiness is occasioned by an object much more serious. It is the practice in our family, that the whole business of providing for its subsistence falls upon my sister and myself. If any indisposition should attack my sister,--and I mention it in confidence upon this occasion, that she is subject to the gout, the rheumatism, and cramp, without making mention of other accidents,--what would be the fate of our poor family? Must not the regret of our parents be excessive, at having placed so great a difference between sisters who are so perfectly equal? Alas! we must perish from distress; for it would not be in my power even to scrawl a suppliant petition for relief, having been obliged to employ the hand of another in transcribing the request which I have now the honour 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 equally. I am, with a profound respect, Sirs, your obedient servant,
THE LEFT HAND.
SOME GOOD WHIG PRINCIPLES
[Date unknown]
DECLARATION of those RIGHTS of the Commonalty of Great Britain, _without which they cannot be_ FREE.
It is declared,
First, That the government of this realm, and the making of laws for the same, ought to be lodged in the hands of King, Lords of Parliament, and Representatives of _the whole body_ of the freemen of this realm.
Secondly, That _every man_ of the commonalty (excepting infants, insane persons, and criminals) is, of common right, and by the laws of God, a _freeman_, and entitled to the free enjoyment of _liberty_.
Thirdly, That liberty, or freedom, consists in having _an actual share_ in the appointment of those who frame the laws, and who are to be the guardians of every man's life, property, and peace; for the _all_ of one man is as dear to him as the _all_ of another; and the poor man has an _equal_ right, but _more_ need, to have representatives in the legislature than the rich one.
Fourthly, That they who have _no_ voice nor vote in the electing of representatives, _do not enjoy_ liberty; but are absolutely _enslaved_ to those who _have_ votes, and to their representatives; for to be enslaved is to have governors whom _other men have set over us_, and be subject to laws _made by the representatives of others_, without having had representatives of our own to give consent in _our_ behalf.
Fifthly, That a _very great majority_ of the commonalty of this realm are denied the privilege of voting for representatives in Parliament; and, consequently, they are enslaved to a _small number_, who do now enjoy the privilege exclusively to themselves; but who, it may be presumed, are far from wishing to continue in the exclusive possession of a privilege, by which their fellow-subjects are deprived of _common right_, of _justice_, of _liberty_; and which, if not communicated to all, must speedily cause _the certain overthrow of our happy constitution_, and enslave us _all_.
And, sixthly and lastly, We also say and do assert, that it is _the right_ of the commonalty of this realm to elect a _new_ House of Commons once in _every year_, according to the ancient and sacred laws of the land; because, whenever a Parliament continues in being for _a longer term_, very great numbers of the commonalty, who have arrived at years of manhood since the last election, and _therefore_ have a right to be actually represented in the House of Commons, are then _unjustly deprived_ of that right.
THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS
INSCRIBED TO MISS [SHIPLEY], BEING WRITTEN AT HER REQUEST[140]
As a great part of our life is spent in sleep during which we have sometimes pleasant 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 dreaming, it is well that painful dreams are avoided. If while we sleep we can have any pleasing dream, it is, as the French say, _autant de gagné_, 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 disagreeable, sometimes terrible, ideas are apt to present themselves. Exercise should precede meals, not immediately follow them; the first promotes, the latter, unless moderate, obstructs digestion. If, after exercise, we feed sparingly, the digestion will be easy and good, the body lightsome, the temper cheerful, and all the animal functions performed agreeably. Sleep, when it follows, will be natural and undisturbed; while indolence, with full feeding, occasions nightmares and horrors 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 dinners. Indeed, as there is a difference in constitutions, some rest well after these meals; it costs them only a frightful dream and an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing is more common in the newspapers, than instances 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. It has been a great mistake, the sleeping in rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded by curtains. No outward air that may come in to you is so unwholesome as the unchanged air, often breathed, of a close chamber. As boiling water does not grow hotter by longer boiling, if the particles that receive greater heat can escape; so living bodies do not putrefy, if the particles, so fast as they become putrid, can be thrown off. Nature expels them by the pores of the skin and the lungs, and in a free, open air they are carried off; but in a close room we receive them again and again, though they become more and more corrupt. A number of persons crowded into a small room thus spoil the air in a few minutes, and even render it mortal, as in the Black Hole at Calcutta. A single person is said to spoil only a gallon of air per minute, and therefore requires a longer time to spoil a chamber-full; but it is done, however, in proportion, and many putrid disorders hence have their origin. It is recorded of Methusalem, who, being the longest liver, may be supposed to have best preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air; for, when he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to him; "Arise, Methusalem, and build thee an house, for thou shalt live yet five hundred years longer." But Methusalem answered, and said, "If I am to live but five hundred years longer, it is not worth while to build me an house; I will sleep in the air, as I have been used to do." Physicians, after having for ages contended that the sick should not be indulged with fresh air, have at length discovered that it may do them good. It is therefore to be hoped, that they may in time discover likewise, that it is not hurtful to those who are in health, and that we may be then cured of the _aërophobia_, 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 not receive more; and that matter must remain in our bodies, and occasion diseases; but it gives some previous notice of its being about to be hurtful, by producing certain uneasiness, slight indeed at first, which as with regard to the lungs is a trifling sensation, and to the pores of the skin a kind of restlessness, which is difficult to describe, and few that feel it know the cause of it. But we may recollect, that sometimes on waking in the night, we have, if warmly covered, found it difficult to get asleep again. We turn often without finding repose in any position. This 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 perspirable matter--the bed-clothes having received their quantity, and, being saturated, refusing to take any more. To become sensible of this by an experiment, let a person keep his position in the bed, but throw off the bed-clothes, and suffer fresh air to approach the part uncovered of his body; he will then feel that part suddenly refreshed; for the air will immediately relieve the skin, by receiving, licking up, and carrying off, the load of perspirable matter that incommoded it. For every portion of cool air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its part of that vapour, receives therewith a degree of heat that rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed away with its burthen, by cooler and therefore heavier fresh air, which for a moment 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 distinctly 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, preventive and curative, follow:
1. By eating moderately (as before advised for health's sake) less perspirable matter is produced in a given time; hence the bed-clothes receive it longer before they are saturated, and we may therefore sleep longer before we are made uneasy by their refusing to receive any more.
2. By using thinner and more porous bed-clothes, which will suffer the perspirable matter more easily to pass through them, we are less incommoded, such being longer tolerable.
3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and find you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat up and turn your pillow, shake the bed-clothes well, with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open and leave it to cool; in the meanwhile, continuing undrest, walk about your chamber till your skin has had time to discharge its load, which it will do sooner as the air may be dried and colder. When you begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, then return to your bed, and you will soon fall asleep, and your sleep will be sweet and pleasant. All the scenes presented to your fancy will be too of the pleasing kind. I am often as agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery of an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out of bed, you may, instead of it, lift up your bed-clothes with one arm and leg, so as to draw in a good deal of fresh air, and by letting them fall force it out again. This, repeated twenty times, will so clear them of the perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to permit your sleeping well for some time afterwards. But this latter method is not equal to the former.
Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to have two beds, will find great luxury in rising, when they wake in a hot bed, and going into the cool one. Such shifting of beds would also be of great service to persons ill of a fever, as it refreshes and frequently procures sleep. A very large bed, that will admit a removal so distant from the first situation as to be cool and sweet, may in a degree answer the same end.
One or two observations more will conclude this little piece. Care must be taken, when you lie down, to dispose your pillow so as to suit your manner of placing your head, and to be perfectly easy; then place your limbs so as not to bear inconveniently hard upon one another, as, for instance, the joints of your ankles; 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 while you are asleep, and disturb your imagination. These are the rules of the art. But, though they will generally prove effectual in producing the end intended, there is a case in which the most punctual observance of them will be totally fruitless. I need not mention the case to you, my dear friend, but my account of the art would be imperfect without it. The case is, when the person who desires to have pleasant dreams has not taken care to preserve, what is necessary above all things,
A GOOD CONSCIENCE.
_NOTES_
References are to Franklin's _Writings_, edited by A. H. Smyth, 10 vols., 1905-1907.
[1] In addition to John Bigelow's "Historical Sketch of the Fortunes and Misfortunes of the Autograph Manuscript of Franklin's Memoirs of His Own Life," see Franklin's references to the _Autobiography_, in _Writings_, IX, 550-51, 559, 665, 675, 688; X, 50.
[2] The _New England Courant_, begun Aug. 21, 1721 (fourth American newspaper), was preceded by _Boston News-Letter_, April 24, 1704, _Boston Gazette_, Dec. 21, 1719, _American Weekly Mercury_, Dec. 22, 1719 (Philadelphia).
[3] Sir Wm. Keith (1680-1749), governor of Pennsylvania 1717-1726. He was dismissed by the Proprietaries in 1726; after casting his lot with the provincial assembly, he became "a tribune of the people" (_Dictionary of American Biography_, X, 292-3). It is not improbable that Franklin's antipathy for the Proprietaries was quickened by his contacts with Keith (even though he was the victim of the governor's gulling). See note 65 for "James Ralph."
[4] Sir Hans Sloane (1660-1753), botanist and physician, friend of Sydenham, Newton, Ray, and Boyle, made President of the Royal Society in 1727 (until 1741). See _Dictionary of National Biography_, LII, 379-80, and Franklin's letter to Sir Hans Sloane (London, June 2, 1725) in _Writings_, II, 52-3.
[5] Sir Hans Sloane contributed curiosities to Don Saltero's place, Cheyne Walk, Chelsea. Steele dedicated a _Tatler_ to this collector of gimcracks who wrote of his oddities:
"Monsters of all sorts here are seen Strange things in nature as they grew so; Some relicks of the Sheba queen, And fragments of the fam'd Bob Crusoe."
[6] See note 22.
[7] For an account of this sturdy colonial who learned Latin in order to read Newton's _Principia_, see E. P. Oberholtzer's _A Literary History of Philadelphia_, 57 ff.
[8] James Parton's _Life and Times of Benjamin Franklin_, I, 154-67 (chap. XIII) contains a good account of this junto of friends.
[9] See C. E. Jorgenson's "A Brand Flung at Colonial Orthodoxy" (in Bibliography, p. clxv above), for the deistic patterns of thought found in Keimer's newspaper.
[10] Consult C. H. Hart, "Who Was the Mother of Franklin's Son? An Inquiry Demonstrating that She Was Deborah Read, Wife of Benjamin Franklin." (See Bibliography, p. clxiv above.) Also see _Who Was the Mother of Franklin's Son? An Historical Conundrum, hitherto given up, now partly answered by Paul Leicester Ford_. With an afterword by John Clyde Oswald (New Rochelle, N. Y.: 1932).
[11] End of reprint of the original MS in the Henry E. Huntington Library. The selections that follow are from _Writings_, in which A. H. Smyth reprints the Bigelow transcript with indifferent accuracy. "Continuation of the Account of my Life, begun at Passy, near Paris, 1784." Abel James and Benjamin Vaughan urge Franklin to continue his life beyond 1730 (see _Writings_, I, 313-20). Vaughan promises that when finished "it will be worth all Plutarch's Lives put together" (p. 318).
[12] Dated July 1, 1733.
[13] "Thus far written at Passy, 1784." He continues his _Autobiography_ in Philadelphia in August, 1788.
[14] Consult C. E. Jorgenson's "The New Science in the Almanacs of Ames and Franklin" (see Bibliography, p. clxv, above).
[15] "Self-Denial Not the Essence of Virtue," _Pennsylvania Gazette_, No. 324, Feb. 18, 1735; printed in W. T. Franklin's edition, III, 233-5. "On True Happiness," _Pennsylvania Gazette_, No. 363, Nov. 20, 1735; printed in W. T. Franklin's edition, III, 238-9.
[16] Chosen Clerk of Pennsylvania General Assembly in 1736.
[17] See their correspondence in L. Tyerman's _Life of the Rev. George Whitefield_ (2 vols., London, 1876).
[18] J. Parton observes that this list may have been suggested by the word-catalogs in the _Gargantua_ (_Life and Times of Benjamin Franklin_, I, 221). This mildly Rabelaisian series is later elaborated into "The Drinker's Dictionary" found in the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, No. 494, May 25, 1738; and reprinted by Parton, I, 222-5.
[19] When James Franklin was accused of mocking the clergy and unsettling the peace, he was refused license to print the _New England Courant_. So Benjamin, his apprenticeship indentures cancelled (though new ones were privately signed), became nominal editor. Consult C. A. Duniway, _The Development of Freedom of the Press in Massachusetts_, 97-103; W. G. Bleyer, _Main Currents in the History of American Journalism_, chaps. I-II.
[20] Rules for his famous Junto, begun in 1727.
[21] No Part II has ever been found. A. H. Smyth suggests that this creed and liturgy was "Franklin's daily companion to the end of his life" (_Writings_, II, 92 note).
[22] When Samuel Keimer discovered that Franklin and Meredith were about to launch a newspaper, he began his _Universal Instructor in all Arts and Sciences: and Pennsylvania Gazette_ (first issue, Dec. 28, 1728). Franklin and Joseph Breintnall wrote the _Busy-Body_ series for Bradford's _American Weekly Mercury_. Nos. I-V and VIII are by Franklin. See S. Bloore's "Joseph Breintnall, First Secretary of the Library Company" (in Bibliography). That Keimer became infuriated, one can see in issues X, XII, and XVI of the _Universal Instructor ..._, in which _Busy-Body_ is scourged with both prose and poetry.
[23] Franklin purchases Keimer's _Universal Instructor ..._, deleting the first half of the title, which had appeared in small italic type.
[24] See _Autobiography_, _Writings_, I, 343.
[25] The use of scales suggests that Franklin probably knew Aristophanes' _The Frogs_. It is more likely, however that he was acquainted with the use of scales in contemporary witch trials. In the _Gentleman's Magazine_ for Jan., 1731, there is an account of a witch trial at "Burlington, in Pensilvania," in the course of which scales and the Bible were used. (See Brand's _Popular Antiquities_ [H. Ellis, ed., London, 1888], III, 35.) In the same magazine for Feb., 1759, is an account of a similar trial which took place in England (_ibid._, III, 22).
[26] In his 1734 issue of the _American Almanack_ Leeds observed that the account of his death was grossly exaggerated. Doubtless Franklin had read (Swift's) Bickerstaff's predictions of the death of Partridge.
[27] Compare Swift's _A Meditation upon a Broomstick_. Mug and broomstick are alike obliged to undergo the indignities of a "dirty wench." But more conclusively, the rhetoric and the ethical application to human affairs suggest Franklin's indebtedness to Swift.
[28] His parents' response is learned from a letter (not in Smyth) to his father: "Hon. Father, I received your kind letter of the 4th of May in answer to mine of April 13th. I wrote that of mine with design to remove or lessen the uneasiness you and my Mother appear'd to be under on account of my Principles, and it gave me great Pleasure when she declar'd in her next to me that she approved of my Letter and was satisfy'd with me." (Cited in J. F. Sachse, _Benjamin Franklin as a Free Mason_, 75.)
[29] Rev. George Whitefield, whom Franklin met in 1739.
[30] _M. T. Cicero's Cato Major or his Discourse of Old-Age: With Explanatory Notes._ Philadelphia. Printed and Sold by B. Franklin, 1744.
[31] "This letter is undated, but from Franklin's ecclesiastical mathematics it would appear to have been written on the tenth of March" (A. H. Smyth, _Writings_, II, 283 note).
[32] Excellent note in _Writings_, II, 463-4. Abbé Raynal published _Polly Baker_ in his _Histoire ..._ as an authentic document. Also Peter Annet printed this _jeu d'esprit_ in his _Social Bliss_ (1749). See N. L. Torrey, _Voltaire and the English Deists_, 187. A. H. Smyth confesses: "The mystery surrounding the authorship and first publication of the 'Speech' remains an impenetrable mystery. The style is altogether Franklinian, and the story seems unquestionably to have been written by him, but I have searched _The Pennsylvania Gazette_ in vain for it. It is not there."
[33] See "Introduction" in Wm. Pepper's Facsimile Reprint of the _Proposals_ (Philadelphia, 1931), vii-xvii. Although A. H. Smyth prints "Authors quoted in this Paper," he does not print the copious documentation Franklin included. The "Authors" listed are: Milton, Locke, Hutcheson, Obadiah Walker, M. Rollin, George Turnbull, "with some others."
[34] Printed as Appendix to Rev. R. Peters's _A Sermon on Education ..._, Philadelphia, Printed and Sold by B. Franklin and D. Hall, 1751.
[35] Samuel Croxall's (d. 1752) _Fables of Æsop and Others_, 1722. "The remarkable popularity of these fables, of which editions are still published, is to be accounted for by their admirable style. They are excellent examples of naïve, clear, and forcible English" (_Dictionary of National Biography_, XIII, 246-8).
[36] A part of Johnson's _Elementa Philosophica_, printed by Franklin in 1752. See H. and C. Schneider, eds., _Samuel Johnson, President of King's College. His Career and Writings_. 4 vols., New York, 1929.
[37] Fénelon's Telemachus. Chevalier de Ramsay's _Travels of Cyrus_. 2 vols. London, 1727 (2d ed.).
[38] For Franklin's awareness of Rabelais, see C. E. Jorgenson's "Benjamin Franklin and Rabelais," _Classical Journal_, XXIX, 538-40 (April, 1934).
[39] First published in [Clarke, Wm.] _Observations on the Late and present Conduct of the French, with Regard to their Encroachments upon the British Colonies in North America.... To which is added, wrote by another Hand; Observations concerning the Increase of Mankind, Peopling of Countries, Etc.,_ Boston, 1755. See L. J. Carey's _Franklin's Economic Views_, 46-60, for able survey of Franklin's theory of population and its relation to Malthus and Adam Smith. Also see L. C. Wroth, _An American Bookshelf_, 1755 (Philadelphia, 1934), 25-7.
[40] Hume having objected to the use of "pejorate" and "colonize," Franklin yields to him. "Since they are not in common use here [England], I give up as bad; for certainly in writings intended for persuasion and for general information, one cannot be too clear; and every expression in the least obscure is a fault" (_Writings_, IV, 82-4; Sept. 27, 1760).
[41] On complaint of John Bartram and Cadwallader Colden, Franklin deleted the concluding paragraphs in subsequent editions.
[42] Read before the Royal Society on Dec. 21, 1752. It was printed in the _Gentleman's Magazine_, December, 1752. Essentially because of his identification of electricity with lightning. Franklin in 1753 received the Copley medal and was in 1756 elected F. R. S.
[43] Mr. George S. Eddy has compiled a "Catalogue of Pamphlets, Once a Part of the Library of Benjamin Franklin, and now owned by the Historical Society of Pennsylvania," which one of the editors was permitted to use in MS form in the W. S. Mason Collection. One of the pamphlets is: _An Hymn to the Creator of the World, The Thoughts taken chiefly from Psal. CIV. To which is added in Prose An Idea of the Creator From His Works ..._ London, MDCCL. James Burgh. If most of the material in this issue (it is equally true of many of the other issues) is "borrowed," it none the less shows toward what ideas Franklin was sympathetic. Almanac makers on the whole were not characterized by a vast display of originality.
[44] Brackets in this letter are the result of A. H. Smyth's collation of two MSS.
[45] "These letters first appeared in _The London Chronicle_, February 6 and 8, 1766. They were published again in _The London Magazine_, February, 1766, and in _The Pennsylvania Chronicle_, January 16, 1769. They were republished in Almon's 'Remembrancer' in 1766." (A. H. Smyth, Writings, III, 231 note.)
After the failure of his _Albany Plan_ (for text see Writings, III, 197-226), Franklin, visiting Governor Shirley in Boston, was shown an English plan: it "was, that the governors of all the colonies, each attended by one or two members of his council, should assemble at some central town, and there concert measures of defense, raise troops, order the construction of forts, and draw on the British treasury for the whole expense; the treasury to be afterwards reimbursed _by a tax laid on the colonies by an act of Parliament_" (Parton, I, 340). The letters are a protest against this plan, a protest marking the first stages of the revolution.
[46] The second cousin and in 1758 the wife of William Greene, the second governor of the state of Rhode Island. See _Dictionary of American Biography_, VII, 576-7.
[47] Had made a tour inspecting post offices.
[48] Daughter of Samuel Ward, governor of Rhode Island.
[49] Franklin's daughter, born 1744.
[50] John Franklin died in Boston, January, 1756, age sixty-five.
[51] Daughter of John Franklin's second wife by a former marriage.
[52] See discussion (including bibliographical note) of Rev. Wm. Smith in Introduction, section on "Franklin's Theories of Education."
[53] From an exact reprint made by W. S. Mason from a copy of _Poor Richard_ (1758) in his collection. Lindsay Swift, in _Benjamin Franklin_, notes: "It may safely be said that it is the American classic _par excellence_, and shares with Mrs. Stowe's _Uncle Tom's Cabin_ the honour of having passed by translation into more other tongues than anything else thus far bearing the stamp of our national spirit" (pp. 33-4). A glance at Ford's _Franklin Bibliography_, 53-111, will suggest the vogue of this classic. See L. L. L.'s "The Way to Wealth: History and Editions," _Nation_, XCVI, 494-6 (May 15, 1913).
William Temple Franklin observes that _The Way to Wealth_ "is supposed to have greatly contributed to the formation of that _national character_ they [people of America] have since exhibited" (1818 ed. of Franklin's _Works_, III, 248).
[54] Stephen Potts and William Parsons were among the original members of the Junto (Writings, I, 299-300). See note on Parsons in _Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography_, XXXIII, 340 (1909).
[55] Henry Home, Lord Kames (1696-1782). See _Dictionary of National Biography_, XXVII, 232-4; A. F. Tytler's _Memoirs_ of Lord Kames, 3 vols., Edinburgh, 1814 (2d ed.). Franklin writes an interesting letter to Kames (London, Jan. 3, 1760) affirming that he rejoices "on the reduction of Canada; and this is not merely as I am a colonist, but as I am a Briton. I have long been of opinion, that the _foundations of the future grandeur and stability of the British empire lie in America_; and though, like other foundations, they are low and little seen, they are, nevertheless, broad and strong enough to support the greatest political structure human wisdom ever yet erected." Concerning his recent visit to Kames in Scotland he writes, "On the whole, I must say, I think the time we spent there, was six weeks of the _densest_ happiness I have met with in any part of my life ..." (_Writings_, IV, 3-7). In a letter (London, Nov., 1761) he praises Kames's _Introduction to the Art of Thinking_ and inquires "after your _Elements of Criticism_." He also tells Kames about his plans to write an _Art of Virtue_ (_ibid._, IV, 120-3). From Portsmouth, Aug. 17, 1762, he sends his farewell: "I am going from the old world to the new; and I fancy I feel like those, who are leaving this world for the next: grief at the parting; fear of the passage; hope of the future" (_ibid._, IV, 174).
[56] _The Interest of Great Britain Considered?_
[57] If ever written, not extant.
[58] Daughter of Mrs. Margaret Stevenson, Franklin's landlady at Number Seven, Craven Street, Strand, London. Miss Mary later married Dr. Hewson (see note 77, below).
[59] Dr. Thomas Bray's philanthropic schemes for education of Negroes is here referred to. See E. L. Pennington's "The Work of the Bray Associates in Pennsylvania" for Franklin's connection with this work. Mr. Wm. Strahan wished to prevail on Franklin to remove permanently to England. Franklin writes to Deborah, March 5, 1760 (_Writings_, IV, 9-10), offering two reasons for his veto of Strahan's plan: "One, my Affection to Pensilvania, and long established Friendships and other connections there: The other, your invincible Aversion to Crossing the Seas." The remainder of the letter indicates, however, that he was not dead to the hope that his wife would relent.
[60] For Franklin's friendship with Ingersoll consult L. H. Gipson's _Jared Ingersoll_. _A Study of American Loyalism in Relation to British Colonial Government_ (New Haven, 1920).
[61] Richard ("Omniscient") Jackson (d. 1787), member of Parliament, friend of the colonial cause. See _Dictionary of National Biography_, XXIX, 104-5.
[62] John Hawkesworth (1715?-1773). From 1752 to 1754 he edited the _Adventurer_, aided by Johnson, Bathurst, and Wharton. Edited Swift's writings in 1755, Swift's letters in 1766, and Cook's, Byron's, Carteret's, and Wallis's _Voyages_ in 1773. (_Dictionary of National Biography_, XXV, 203-5.)
[63] John Stanley (1714-1786). Blind organist who composed the music for Hawkesworth's oratorio, _Zimri_ (1760); and for his _The Fall of Egypt_ (1774). (_Dictionary of National Biography_, LIV, 74-5.)
[64] Benjamin West (1738-1820).
[65] James Ralph (d. 1762); see _Dictionary of National Biography_, XLVII, 221-4. His _Night: A Poem_ (London, 1728), dedicated to the Earl of Chesterfield, is a jejune imitation of Thomson's _Seasons_. He professes himself "a bigotted Admirer of the Antients, and all their Performances" (p. 197) in _The Touch-Stone ..._ (London, 1728): "My Design was, to animadvert upon the Standard Entertainments of the present Age, in Comparison with those of Antiquity" (p. 237). He aided Fielding in bringing out _The Champion_ (1741 ff.). Hallam characterized his _History of England_ (1744-1746) as one of the best accounts of the time of Charles II. Succinct survey of Ralph in M. K. Jackson's _Outlines of the Literary History of Colonial Pennsylvania_, 37-42.
[66] John Fothergill (1712-1780). See _Dictionary of National Biography_ XX, 66-8. See J. C. Lettsom's _Memoirs of John Fothergill_ (4th ed., London, 1786) for a full treatment of his friendship with Franklin. J. J. Abraham's _Lettsom, His Life, Times, Friends and Descendants_ (London, 1933, chap. XVIII), contains an account of the "conciliation negotiations" between Hyde and Dartmouth (representing Lord North) and Barclay and Fothergill (representing Franklin and the colonial cause). Only George III could not be persuaded. Also see R. H. Fox, _Dr. John Fothergill and His Friends ..._ (London, 1919).
For Franklin's quarrel with the Proprietors see _Cool Thoughts on the Present Situation of Our Public Affairs_ (April 12, 1764, _Writings_, IV, 226-41). A month later he writes to Wm. Strahan: "Our petty publick affairs here are in the greatest confusion, and will never, in my opinion, be composed, while the Proprietary Government subsists" (_ibid._, IV, 246).
[67] His son William Franklin (1731-1813), governor of New Jersey, and wife. See _Dictionary of American Biography_, VI, 600-1.
[68] The barbarities of the "Paxton boys" virtually "threatened a civil war, which Franklin and others averted. This episode marks the beginnings of the predominance of the Ulster Scotch and other Calvinists in Pennsylvania affairs, replacing the old Quaker supremacy." (A. Nevins, _The American States During and After the Revolution_, 1775-1789, New York, 1924, 12.) This uprising, suggests Mr. Nevins, may be viewed as a fragment of that "struggle between East and West, Tidewater and Uplands" which "cut in the later Colonial period across the alignment between people and Crown" (_ibid._, 11).
[69] Pope's translation. Franklin omits lines not essential to the thought in a particular sequence.
[70] From Herodotus refracted through Rabelais? See C. E. Jorgenson's "Benjamin Franklin and Rabelais."
[71] For Franklin's activities in behalf of the repeal of the Stamp Act see especially _The Examination of Dr. B. F. Etc. in the British House of Commons, Relative to the Repeal of the American Stamp Act, in 1766_ (_Writings_, IV, 412-48).
[72] A. F. Tytler, in _Memoirs of the Life and Writings of the Honourable Henry Home of Kames ..._ (2d ed., Edinburgh, 1814, II, 99, 112), suggests that this letter never reached its destination, but "was in all probability intercepted." Brackets in excerpt from letter to Lord Kames, June 2, 1765, pp. 318-21 above, are the result of Smyth's collation of Tytler's and Sparks's versions.
[73] Sir John Pringle (1707-1782). Physician (student of Albinus and Boerhaave) whose "great work in life was the reform of military medicine and sanitation" (_Dictionary of National Biography_, XLVI, 386-8). From 1772 to 1778 he was President of the Royal Society. In 1778 he was made one of the eight foreign members of the Academy of Sciences at Paris. Since Pringle was physician to the queen, Parton thinks it probable that he was used by Franklin "to forward to the king such papers and documents as tended to show how loyal to his person and his throne were the vast majority of the American colonists" (_op. cit._, I, 506). George III, having sided with Dr. Wilson who championed _blunt_ lightning rods, asked Pringle to use his influence to have the Royal Society rescind its opinion in favor of _pointed_ ones. Pringle's answer "was to the effect that duty as well as inclination would always induce him to execute his majesty's wishes to the utmost of his power: but 'Sire,' said he, 'I cannot reverse the laws and operations of nature'" (_ibid._, II, 217 note).
[74] The full title of Dupont de Nemours's work is _Physiocratie, ou constitution naturelle du gouvernement le plus avantageux au genre humain_. 2 vols. Leyden and Paris, 1767, 1768. Peter Templeman (1711-1769) was Secretary of the London Society of Arts, Manufactures, and Commerce and in 1762 corresponding member of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris (_Dictionary of National Biography_, LVI, 53-4). "Ami des hommes" is the Marquis de Mirabeau (1715-1789) who wrote _L'Ami des hommes, ou traité de la population_. [1756] 5th ed., Hamburg, 1760, 4 vols. The "crowning work" of the Physiocrats is François Quesnay's _Tableau économique_. Published by the British Economic Association, London, 1894.
Dupont's letter of May 10, 1768, to which Franklin's is an answer, is printed in _Writings_, V, 153-4. From London (Oct. 2, 1770) Franklin writes to Dupont: "Would to God I could take with me [to America] Messrs. du Pont, du Bourg, and some other French Friends with their good Ladies! I might then, by mixing them with my Friends in Philadelphia, form a little happy Society that would prevent my ever wishing again to visit Europe" (_Writings_, V, 282). Elision marks in letter of July 28 are Franklin's own.
[75] John Alleyne. See his The _Legal Degrees of Marriage Stated and Considered ..._, London, 1774. The second edition (London, 1775) includes Franklin's letter to Alleyne, Appendix, pp. 1-2.
[76] Compare _To the Printer of the London Public Advertiser_ (August 25, 1768; _Writings_, V, 162-5): "And what are we to gain by this war, by which our trade and manufactures are to be ruined, our strength divided and diminished, our debt increased, and our reputation, as a generous nation, and lovers of liberty, given up and lost? Why, we are to convert millions of the King's loyal subjects into rebels, for the sake of establishing a new claimed power in P---- to tax a distant people, whose abilities and circumstances they cannot be acquainted with, who have a constitutional power of taxing themselves; who have never refused to give us voluntarily more than we can ever expect to wrest from them by force; and by our trade with whom we gain millions a year!" (_Ibid._, 164-5.)
[77] William Hewson (1739-1774). He was married to Miss Stevenson in 1770. Hewson received the Copley medal in 1769 and was made a Fellow of the Royal Society in 1770. (_Dictionary of National Biography_, XXVI, 312-3.)
[78] Daughter of Jonathan Shipley, Bishop of St. Asaph, who wrote _A Speech Intended to have been Spoken on the Bill for Altering the Charters of the Colony of the Massachusetts Bay_. New York. Ed. 1774. (Cf. _Writings_, I, 164-6.) Urging that "the true art of government consists in NOT GOVERNING TOO MUCH" (cited in Parton, _op. cit._, I, 549), Shipley lent sanction to colonial resistance. Franklin writes to Thomas Cushing (London, Oct. 6, 1774): "The Bishop of St. Asaph's intended speech, several Copies of which I send you, and of which many Thousands have been printed and distributed here has had an extraordinary Effect, in changing the Sentiments of Multitudes with regard to America" (_Writings_, VI, 250).
Mungo was a "fine large grey Squirrel" which Deborah sent to her husband (_ibid._, VI, 16).
[79] Printed in _Experiments and Observations on Electricity_. London, 1769.
[80] Printed in _Éphémérides du Citoyen_ (edited by Dupont after 1767), periodical of the French Physiocrats; and in the _London Chronicle_ in 1766.
[81] J. Parton observes that this brilliant illustration of Franklin's use of Swiftian hoax and irony "was the nine-days' talk of the kingdom" (_op. cit._, I, 518).
[82] See R. M. Bache, in Bibliography. In addition, article in New York _Times_, Dec. 3, 1896, and notes in E. P. Buckley's "The Library of a Philadelphia Antiquarian," _Magazine of American History_, XXIV, 388-98 (1890). Mr. Buckley reviews the making of the prayer book; "Column after column of the calendar disappeared with a single stroke of the pen--nearly the whole of the Exhortation, a portion of the Confession, all the Absolution, nearly all the Venite, exultemus Domino. Likewise, the Te Deum, and all the Canticle. Of the Creed all he retained was the following: 'I believe in God the Father Almighty, maker of Heaven and Earth, and in Jesus Christ His Son our Lord. I believe in the Holy Ghost, the forgiveness of sins, and the life everlasting, Amen'" (_ibid._, 393). Franklin collaborated with Lord Le Despencer in this work. For Franklin's own comments see _Writings_, IX, 358-9, 556. Smyth brackets parts of the _Preface_ found in an incomplete MS draft.
[83] Date unknown. For history of this hoax see _Writings_, I, 179-81, and L. S. Livingston, _Benjamin Franklin's Parable against Persecution_. _With an Account of the Early Editions_ (Cambridge, Mass., 1916).
[84] Date unknown.
[85] This letter was never sent.
[86] A. H. Smyth thinks that the friend might have been David Hartley.
[87] A photostat in the W. S. Mason Collection from the Huntington Library gives the date as July 20, 1776.
[88] Time and place of first publication unknown. For an interesting discussion of this piece, see M. C. Tyler's _Literary History of the American Revolution_, II, 367-80. "A British magazine of 1786, says that there was then a transfer made at the Bank of England of £471,000 to Mr. Van Otten on account of the Landgrave of Hesse, for so much due for Hessian soldiers lost in the American war, at £30 a head, thus making the total number lost to be 15,700 men." (Cited in J. F. Watson, _Annals of Philadelphia and Pennsylvania_, Philadelphia, 1857, II, 294.)
[89] He writes to M. Lith (April 6, 1777); "If I were to practise giving Letters of Recommendation to Persons of whose Character I knew no more than I do of yours, my Recommendations would soon be of no Authority at all" (_Writings_, VII, 39); and to George Washington (June 13, 1777), apropos of foreign applicants for American posts: "I promise nothing" (VII, 59). In another letter (Oct. 7, 1777) he admitted that "the Numbers we refuse" are "incredible" (VII, 66). Elsewhere he confesses that "These Applications are my perpetual Torment" (VII, 81). Consult E. Repplier, "Franklin's Trials as a Benefactor" (in Bibliography).
[90] This controversy evoked the following verse:
"While you, great George, for safety hunt, And sharp conductors change for blunt, The Empire's out of joint. Franklin a wiser course pursues, And all your thunder fearless views, By keeping to the _point_."
(Cited in Parton, _op. cit._, II, 217.)
[91] Son of the philosopher, David Hartley. Hartley the younger (1732-1813) met Franklin about 1759. A Lord Rockingham man, he opposed the war with the colonies. He and Franklin drew up the Peace Treaty of 1783. See _Dictionary of National Biography_, XXV, 68-9.
[92] A. H. Smyth thinks that this dialogue was "written soon after Franklin's arrival in France" (_Writings_, VII, 82 note).
[93] A Charles de Weissenstein included in his letter from Brussels, June 16, 1778, a "Plan of Reconciliation," plans for a future American government: he wished to have a secret conference with Franklin (_Writings_, VII, 166; Smyth note).
[94] _Arcana imperii detecta: or, divers select cases in Government_, London, 1701. [A trans. of _Disquisitiones politicae_ by Mark Zuirius Boxhorn.] (A. H. Smyth note, _Writings_, VII, 169.)
[95] Franklin writes to William Carmichael (Passy, June 17, 1780): "The Moulin Joli is a little island in the Seine about two leagues hence, part of the country-seat of another friend [Claude-Henri Watelet], where we visit every summer, and spend a day in the pleasing society of the ingenious, learned, and very polite persons who inhabit it. At the time when the letter was written, all conversations at Paris were filled with disputes about the music of Gluck and Picini, a German and Italian musician, who divided the town into violent parties. A friend of this lady [Madame Brillon] having obtained a copy of it, under a promise not to give another, did not observe that promise; so that many have been taken, and it is become as public as such a thing can well be, that is not printed; but I could not dream of its being heard of at Madrid! The thought was partly taken from a little piece of some unknown writer, which I met with fifty years since in a newspaper, and which the sight of the Ephemera brought to my recollection" (_Writings_, VIII, 100). A. H. Smyth observes that it is generally thought that the Ephemera is a reworking of an essay on "Human Vanity" which appeared in the _Pennsylvania Gazette_, Dec. 4, 1735. Also see M. K. Jackson, _op. cit_; 75; and L. S. Livingston, _Franklin and His Press at Passy_ (New York, 1914), 30. Compare Wm. Bartram's similar description of Ephemera in his _Travels_ ed. by M. Van Doren (An American Bookshelf), New York, 1928, 88-9. See H. H. Clark's Introduction to _Poems of Freneau_ (New York, 1929), xlvii-lviii, for provocative discussion of the degree to which naturalism may motivate an obsession with transience, mutability, and death.
[96] On Oct. 22, 1779, Bache wrote to Franklin explaining that Lee and Izard objected to his employing William Temple Franklin, his grandson.
[97] Benjamin Franklin Bache (1769-1798), son of Richard Bache, Franklin's son-in-law. See B. Faÿ, _The Two Franklins: Fathers of American Democracy_ (Boston, 1933). See _The Diary of B. F. B. Aug. 1, 1782, to Sept. 14, 1785. Trans. from the French by William Duane_, 1865 (in W. S. Mason Collection). A charming self-portrait of a precocious lad who is grief-stricken when rain prevents him from going to the mountains to witness M. du Villard's experiments, who follows avidly the ascensions of "aërostatic globes," who takes M. Charles's course in natural philosophy. Franklin had Didot, the master type founder, come to Passy to teach Ben how "to cast printing types." On July 12, 1785, he records the patriarch's exodus from Passy: "A mournful silence reigned around him and was only interrupted by sobs."
[98] Barbeu Dubourg (June 28, Paris) wrote to Franklin, "sending Franklin's manuscript on 'The Morals of Chess,' of which he has retained a copy; expects to have it printed shortly in _le Journal de Paris_; hopes to follow it with a few reflections of his own on the subject." (_Calendar of the Papers of Benjamin Franklin in the Library of the American Philosophical Society_, III, 102.) [XIV, 218.] Brackets in selection indicate Smyth's collation of incomplete MS copy and printed version.
[99] _The Parable against Persecution._
[100] Consult _Benjamin Franklin's Story of the Whistle, with an Introductory Note_ by L. S. Livingston, and _A Bibliography to 1820_ (Cambridge, Mass., 1922).
[101] Matthew Arnold in _Sweetness and Light_ appraises Franklin as "a man the most considerable, ... whom America has yet produced." Missing the irony of Franklin's burlesque, however, Arnold exclaimed after reading the _Proposed Version_: "After all, there is a stretch of humanity beyond Franklin's victorious good sense!"
[102] Two days before, he wrote to Richard Price: "We make daily great Improvements in _Natural_, there is one I wish to see in _Moral_ Philosophy; the Discovery of a Plan, that would induce and oblige Nations to settle their Disputes without first Cutting one another's Throats" (_Writings_, VIII, 9). One remembers Franklin's classic utterance (in a letter to David Hartley, Passy, Feb. 2, 1780): "There hardly ever existed such a thing as a bad Peace, or, a good War" (_ibid._, VIII, 5; also see VIII, 506). An interesting comment on Franklin's devotion to peace may be found in _A Project of Universal and Perpetual Peace_. Written by Pierre-André Gargaz, a former Galley-Slave, and printed by Benjamin Franklin at Passy in the Year 1782. Here reprinted, together with an English Version, Introduction, and Typographical Note by George Simpson Eddy, New York, 1922.
[103] Sainte-Beuve asks, "Is not that a comparison which, by the sweetness of its inspiration and the breadth of its imagery, recalls the Homeric comparisons of the Odyssey?" (_Portraits of the Eighteenth Century, Historic and Literary_, 366.)
[104] The famous Orientalist, later Sir William Jones. Married Georgiana Shipley. In 1779 Jones attempted unofficially to bring about a reconciliation between the colonies and England. See Parton, _op. cit._, II, 333-4.
[105] _Essay on the Population of England_, 2d ed., 1780.
[106] London Coffee House.
[107] Madame Helvétius. Consult A. Guillois, _Le salon de Madame Helvétius_ (Paris, 1894).
[108] Georgiana Shipley (in a letter, May 6, 1781) acknowledges his _Dialogue with the Gout_ and this piece. See _Calendar of the Papers of Benjamin Franklin in the Library of the American Philosophical Society_, III, 371 (XXII, 8). This delightful letter is printed in Sparks, IX, 25; Bigelow, VII, 230; and Stifler, "_My Dear Girl_" ... (New York, 1927). Smyth brackets a passage, not in the MS draft, which is printed in the W. T. Franklin edition.
[109] Date uncertain. A. H. Smyth notes that since Miss Shipley replied May 6, 1781 (cf. note 108), it was probably written between January and May, 1781. MS incomplete at both beginning and end.
[110] For Hartley's letter see _Calendar of the Papers of Benjamin Franklin in the Library of the American Philosophical Society_, III, 398 (XXII, 162), Sept. 26, 1781. From Passy (Jan. 15, 1782) Franklin writes to Hartley: "Whatever may be the Fate of our poor Countries, let you and I die as we have lived, in Peace with each other" (_Writings_, VIII, 361).
[111] Excellent summary of the effect of this hoax may be found in L. S. Livingston, _Franklin and His Press at Passy_, 59-67. Walpole wrote to the Countess of Ossory, Oct. 1, 1782; "Have you seen in the papers an excellent letter of Paul Jones to Sir Joseph York? _Elle nous dit bien des verités!_ I doubt poor Sir Joseph cannot answer them! Dr. Franklin himself, I should think, was the author. It is certainly written by a first-rate pen, and not by a common man-of-war" (_ibid._, 62). A. H. Smyth quotes Wm. Temple Franklin's note: "The deception intended by this supposed 'Supplement,' (which was very accurately imitated with respect to printing, paper, the insertion of advertisements, etc.,) was, that, by transmitting it to England, it might actually be taken for what it purported to be" (_Writings_, VIII, 437). To Charles W. F. Dumas, Franklin writes (Passy, May 3, 1782): "Enclosed I send you a few copies of a paper that places in a striking light, the English barbarities in America, particularly those committed by the savages at their instigation. The _Form_ may perhaps not be genuine, but the _substance_ is truth; the number of our people of all kinds and ages, murdered and scalped by them being known to exceed that of the invoice. Make any use of them you may think proper to shame your Anglomanes, but do not let it be known through what hands they come" (_ibid._, 448). Brackets are Franklin's.
[112] William Cowper. See _Correspondence of William Cowper_, ed. by Thomas Wright, I, 479, for his note that Thornton, a merchant, had sent Franklin his poems.
[113] Henri-Léonard-Jean-Baptiste Bertin (1719-1792).
[114] President of the Royal Society (1743-1820). See _Dictionary of National Biography_, III, 129-33.
[115] Dr. Pierre-Marie-Auguste Broussonet (1761-1807) met Sir Joseph Banks in 1782.
[116] A. H. Smyth believes that this was "written in September, 1782" (_Writings_, VIII, 603 note). It was often translated and may well have drawn many immigrants to the colonies.
[117] Probably written after signing of the peace treaty. Compare his letter to Richard Oswald, Passy, Nov. 26, 1782 (_Writings_, VIII, 621-7); and his _The Retort Courteous_ (_ibid._, X, 105-16).
[118] Sir Charles Blagden (1748-1820), physician and physicist, friend to Sir Joseph Banks, F. R. S., in 1772. (_Dictionary of National Biography_, V, 155-6.)
[119] B. Faÿ in "Franklin et Mirabeau collaborateurs" (see Bibliography) shows that Franklin furnished information for _Considerations on the Order of Cincinnatus ..._ (London ed., 1785). Mirabeau thunders, "Must we then own, with the enemies of freedom, that the noble ideas of Sidney, Locke, Rousseau, and others, who have indulged dreams of political happiness, may be the object of a sublime theory, but cannot possibly be reduced into practice?" (Mirabeau, _op. cit._, 73.) The members of the order will in time become "Gothic tyrants" (_ibid._, 14). He warns America against paralleling the decadence of Rome (_ibid._, 25), suggesting a Rousseauistic equalitarianism. Other references to Franklin's antipathy for the Order are _Writings_, IX, 222, 269-70. Smyth observes that "passages in brackets are not found in the draft in Library of Congress."
[120] The Quinquet lamp was invented in 1784. A. H. Smyth suggests that March 20, 1784, is the exact date of composition, from Franklin's sentence, "In the six months between the 20th of March and the 20th of September...."
[121] Son of Cotton Mather. Died June 27, 1785.
[122] Benjamin Vaughan (1751-1835), unitarian, pro-colonial, and a Lord Shelburne man. He edited the first collective edition of Franklin's works in London (1779). See _Dictionary of National Biography_, LVIII, 158-9.
[123] See _Writings_, IX, 264. Sparks (II, 383-426) reprints George Whately's _Principles of Trade_. Elision marks indicate that parts of this letter are omitted.
[124] A. H. Smyth quotes W. T. Franklin, who observes that the book was Paley's _Moral Philosophy_ (_Writings_, IX, 488 note).
[125] A. H. Smyth thinks _The Retort Courteous_ (_ibid._, IX, 489 note).
[126] At Rancocas, New Jersey.
[127] Sparks (X, 281-2) prints this letter as to Thomas Paine. Smyth, suggesting that Paine's "deistical writings" were not done before 1786, denies that Paine is the correspondent. H. H. Clark has argued shrewdly (and with evidence) that since part of _The Age of Reason_ was written before 1781 (this M. C. Conway in his _Life of Paine_ admits), it is not implausible that Franklin's letter was directed to Paine. ("An Historical Interpretation of Thomas Paine's Religion," _University of California Chronicle_, XXXV, 84, 1933.)
[128] Since Franklin was acquainted with John Ray's _Wisdom of God ..._, it is not improbable that he was acquainted with his aphorisms published in 1670 (Cambridge), in which this wit occurs. It is also found in Wollaston's _Religion of Nature Delineated_, but as in Ray, in crude form: "It is as when a man spits at heaven, and the spittle falls back upon his own face" (1725 ed., 132). Remembering that Franklin helped set up this piece while working for Samuel Palmer in 1725, his use of it may not be wholly fortuitous.
[129] His speech (delivered June 11, 1787) _On the Proportion of Representation and Votes_ (_Writings_, IX, 595-9) shows how with gift for compromise he helped to bring together the large and small states through his dual scheme of equal and proportional representation in the Senate and House.
[130] Compare _Writings_, IX, 659. He observes to Dupont de Nemours (June 9, 1788), "The wisest must agree to some unreasonable things, that reasonable ones of more consequence may be obtained." Brackets are Franklin's.
[131] Clergyman of Boston and friend of Mrs. Mecom, Franklin's sister. Elision marks indicate that parts of this letter are omitted.
[132] Charles Carroll (1737-1832). He had accompanied Franklin on his Canada commission. See _Dictionary of American Biography_, III, 522-3.
[133] Compare _Writings_, IX, 636-9.
[134] Compare _Writings_, X, 60-3, 127-9.
[135] He writes (Nov. 2, 1789) to Benjamin Vaughan: "The revolution in France is truly surprising. I sincerely wish it may end in establishing a good constitution for that country. The mischiefs and troubles it suffers in the operation, however, give me great concern" (_Writings_, X, 50). He confesses (Nov. 13, 1789) to Jean Baptiste Le Roy: "The voice of _Philosophy_ I apprehend can hardly be heard among those tumults" (_ibid._, 69).
[136] Rev. Ezra Stiles (1727-1795), member of the American Philosophical Society (1768), theologian and Newtonian scientist, President of Yale (1778-1795). For the activities of this versatile clergyman, see his _Literary Diary_, ed. by F. B. Dexter (3 vols., New York, 1901), and I. M. Calder (ed.), _Letters and Papers of Ezra Stiles_ (New Haven, 1933). Also see Abiel Holmes's _Life of Ezra Stiles_ (Boston, 1798).
[137] Dr. Stuber's note, cited in _Writings_, X, 86-7: "Dr. Franklin's 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, 1790, 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 African speech was an excellent parody of one delivered by Mr. Jackson, of Georgia. All the arguments, urged in favour of negro slavery, are applied with equal force to justify the plundering and enslaving of Europeans. It affords, at the same time, a demonstration of the futility of the arguments in defence of the slave-trade, and of the strength of mind and ingenuity of the author, at his advanced period of life. It furnishes, too, a no less convincing proof of his power of imitating the style of other times and nations, than his _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 bookstores and libraries for the work from which it was said to be extracted." According to the _Pennsylvania Magazine of History and Biography_, XX, 50, the memorial was presented in 1790.
[138] Date of composition uncertain. Printed as pamphlet in 1784.
[139] Date unknown.
[140] A. H. Smyth dates this piece as during the summer of 1786 (_Writings_, X, 131-2 note). Sparks and Bigelow had conjecturedly dated it 1772.
* * * * *
Transcriber's Notes:
5. Minor punctuation corrections have been made without comment and include missing or misplaced periods, opening or closing quotation marks and parentheses, apostrophes, hypens, etc., however no punctuation has been added, a specific example being on:
p. 281, In the speech of "Father Abraham", p. 281-288, added closing quote at end of speech to match opening quote at beginning, however intervening paragraphs are without quote punctuation in the original and have been retained so in this e-text.
6. Minor spacing corrections have been made as follows:
p. v, Contents, page numbers have been right justified in a column. p. 13, "some how" to "somehow" (was once somehow or other) p. 21 "De foe" to "Defoe" (Defoe in his Cruso) p. 206, replaced blank space with double emdash, (are under ---- Years of Age) p. 410, "TitlePage" to "Title Page" (Lines in the Title Page)
7. p. 3, In "Selections from BENJAMIN FRANKLIN", moved note about the "Notes" section from the bottom to the top of selection, above the header, as it pertains to ALL remaining pages.
8. SPELLING CORRECTIONS: (not otherwise marked by editor)
p. xxxix, "strengthned" to "strengthened" (14) (strengthened by long prescription) p. ci, "transfererd" to "transferred" (1) (transferred from the Penn Charter) (in Footnote i-327) *p. 9, "Wharf" to "Wharff" (My proposal was to build a Wharff) p. 16, "Shaftsbury" to "Shaftesbury" (33) (reading Shaftesbury and Collins) p. 67, "preceeding" to "preceding" (16) (a preceding Wife) p. 184, "hear" to "here" (I have here described) *p. 266, "harrassed" to "harassed" (past has harassed them) *p. 369, "harrassed" to "harassed" (order them to be harassed) p. 347, "exhilirates" to "exhilerates" (exhilerates me more) p. 451, "Univers" to "Universe" (greatest in the Universe;)
*Correction made because word occurs correctly or alternately spelled elsewhere in the SAME document.
9. WORD VARIATIONS: (found to be valid spellings in W. E. D.)
"abovementioned" (1) and "above-mentioned" (1) "abridgment" (15) and "abridgement" (2) "agreable" (11) and "agreeable" (26) "ale-house" (1) and "alehouse" (1) "Algernon Sidney" (1) and "Algernoon Sidney" (1) "allege" (7) and "alledge" (2) "Almanac" (10) and "Almanack" (38) "antient" (15) and "ancient" (50) "apetite" (1) and "appetite" (7) "arithmetic" (9) and "arithmetick" (5)
"balance" (13) and "ballance" (5) "beforementioned" (1) and "before-mentioned" (1) "bias" (4) and "biass" (2) "Boulogne" (2) and "Bouloigne" (1) "boundlessly" (1) and "boundlesly" (1) "Brientnal" (3) (in Autobiography), "Breintnal" (1) (in Introduction) and "Breintnall" (3) (in footnotes) "Broussonet" (1) and "Broussonnet" (1) "burden" (7) and "burthen" (12)
"Cabin" (5) and "Cabbin" (2) "Caesar" (1) and "Cesar" (1) "characteris'd" (1) and "characterized" (1) "chearfulness" (1) and "cheerfulness" (1) "Chelsea" (2) and "Chelsey" (1) "Chesnut Street" (1) and "Chestnut Street" (1) "chuse" (8) and "choose" (7) "Classics" (2) and "Classicks" (1) "Clothes" (4) and "Cloaths" (4) "Coffee House" (2) and "Coffee-house" (2) "compleat" (10) and "complete" (11) "control" (3) and "controul" (4) "courthouse" (1) and "court-house" (1) "croud" (3) and "crowd" (12) "Curiositee" (1) and "Curiosity" (8) "Customhouse" (1) and "Custom-house" (1)
"d'Alibard" (2) and "Dalibared" (2) "dependence" (5) and "dependance" (6) "disagreable" (3) and "disagreeable" (5) "drove" (3) and "drave" (1)
"Edinborough" (1) and "Edinburgh" (9) "Eliptic" (1) and "Eliptick" (1) "Encyclopædia" (4) and "Encyclopedia" (2) "Encyclopædists" (2) and "Encyclopedists" (1) "enlightened" (2) and "enlightned" (2) "enter" (7) and "entre" (5) "entitled" (8) and "entituled" (Old Fr. Sp.) (2) "expel" (1) and "expell" (1) "Expence" (22) and "Expense" (3) "extreme" (21) and "extream" (26)
"Falsehood" (2) and "Falshood" (4) "Favor" (1) and "Favour" (26) "fixt" (3) and "fixed" (14) "Folger" (1) and "Folgier" (1) (Peter ----) "foretell" (1) and "fortel" (1) "Free-will" (1) and "Free-Will" (1) "froze" (2) and "Frose" (1)
"Good-Will" (1), "Good-will" (3), and "Goodwill" (1) "Governor" (47) and "Governour" (1) "Grub-Street" (1) and "Grub-street" (1)
"Hawksworth" (1) and "Hawkesworth" (4) "hainous" (1) and "heinous" (1) "height" (6), "heigth" (1), and "heighth" (1) "hindered" (2) and "hindred" (1) "home-spun" (1) and "homespun" (1) "Humor" (1) and "Humour" (5)
"Ill-will" (2) and "Ill-Will" (1) "Increase" (114) and "Encrease" (8) "indiscrete" (1) and "indiscreet" (3) "intolerable" (2) and "intollerable" (1)
"Jealousy" (3) and "Jealousie" (1) "Job" (12) and "Jobb" (4) (as in work) "Joli" (1) and "Joly" (3) (Moulin ----) "Journey-man" (1),"Journeyman('s)" (3) and JourneyMen (1)
"Knicknacks" (1) and "Nicknack" (1)
"Labors" (1) and "Labours" (5) "land-holder" (1) and "Land-holder" (1) "Latinè" (1) and "Latine" (1) "laught" (3) and "laughed" (3) "Linnaeus" (1) and "Linnæus" (2) (a Naturalist) "Livlihood" (4) and "Livelyhood" (1)
"Mama" (1) and "Mamma" (1) "mankind" (35) and "man-kind" (1) (in quoted material) "Mathmatics" (4) and "Mathmaticks" (1) "Mechanic" (7) and "Mechanick" (4) "melancholy" (4) and "melancholly" (2) "Merchandise" (1) and "Merchandize" (2) "middle-ag'd" (1) and "middle-aged" (1) "music" (7) and "musick" (4)
*"natural" (193) and "naturall" (1) (in Bacon Quote) "Negro" (3) and "Negroe" (11) "Neighbor" (1) and "Neighbour" (11) "News-Paper" (2) and "NewsPapers" (1) "News-writers" (1) and "Newswriters" (1) "nonsense" (5) and "nonsence" (1)
*"obtain" (28) and "obteyn" (1) (in Mather quote) "Offence" (14) and "Offense" (2) "Optics" (1) and "Opticks" (1)
"partial" (7) and "partiall" (1) "Penny-worth" (1) and "Pennyworth(s)" (1) "Pennsylvania" (159) and "Pensilvania" (15) and "Pensylvania" (1) "persuaded" (16) and "perswaded" (2) "Physic" (1) and "Physick" (2) "Polly" (9) and "Polley" (1) (---- Stevenson) "Portrait" (9) and "Pourtrait" (1) "possest" (1) and "possessed" (10) "printing-house" (2), "Printing-house" (2), "Printing-House" (7) and "Printinghouse" (2) "Priviledge" (1) and "Privilege" (3) "Public" (22) and "Publick" (43) *"Puffendorf" (3) and "Puffendorff" (1)
"rejoicing" (5) and "rejoycing" (1) "rendered" (7) and "rendred" (1) "rendering" (3) and "rendring" (1) "Rhetoric" (6) and "Rhetorick" (1) "rhime" (3) and "rhyme" (3) "Rhode Island" (4) and "Rhodeisland" (3) "Ribands" (1) and "Ribbands" (4) "Rochefoucauld" (2), "Rochefoucault" (1) and "Larochefoucault" (1) "role" (5) and rôle (2) "rouse" (1) and "rouze" (1)
"satirize" (1) and "satyrize" (1) "Scolar" (7) and "Scollar" (1) "seacoasts" (1) and "sea-coasts" (1) "Silinc" (1) and "Silence" (4) (---- Dogood) "smoke" (3) and "smoak" (2) "soured" (1) and "sowred" (1) "staied" (2) and "stayed" (2) "straight" (4) and "strait" (8) "subtle" (1) and "subtile" (1) "sunset" (1) and "sun-set" (1) "surprise" (11) and "surprize" (16) "Surveyor-General" (1) and "Surveyor General" (2) "Susquehannah" (1), "Susquehanah" (1) and "Sasquehannah" (1)
"threatened" (5) and "threatned" (1) "tiger" (1) and "tyger" (1) "to-day" (6) (in text) and "today" (5) "topic" (2) and "topick" (1)
"Une loge" (1) and "Un loge" (1)
"virtuous" (19) and "vertuous" (1)
"Watergruel" (1) and "Water-gruel" (1) "wellmeaning (1) and "well-meaning" (1) "wondered" (4) and "wondred" (1) "Wool" (3) and "Wooll" (4)
(* found within directly quoted material)
10. Several instances of mixed case words appear in the text as follows: footPath, JourneyMen, mySelf, thySelf, etc., and have been retained.
11. Words spelled with a macron (straight line) over the "O", in the original text: OIA. (OIA VANITAS)
Words with an [OE] or [oe] ligature in the original text, which are represented in the e-text as "OE" and "oe": OEuvres, OEconomy, OEconomists, Soeurs, Moestus, Croesus, and Foetus.