CHAPTER XLIV.

"When ranting round in pleasure's ring, Religion may be blinded, Or if she give a random sting, 'Tis oft but little minded.

"But when on life we're tempest driv'n, A conscience's but a canker; A correspondence fix'd with heaven, Is sure a noble anchor."

The time is now at hand that Franklin must die. When that time approaches, or when only the chilling thought of it strikes the heart, how happy is he who in looking on the withered face or snowy locks of a dear friend, can enjoy the exulting hope that he is prepared for the awful change. This leads us to speak of doctor Franklin on a much higher subject than has yet engaged our attention. I mean his religion.

I have met with nothing in the life of any great man in our country about which there has been such universal inquiry, as about the RELIGION OF DR. FRANKLIN.

Some, who in despite of Christ and all his apostles, will "_judge their brother_;" and judge him too by the _letter_ which _killeth_, will not allow that Dr. Franklin had any religion at all, because, forsooth, he did not _believe_ and "_confess Christ before men_," in the manner they did. But others, construing the Gospel, as Christ himself commands, by "_the spirit_;" which teaches that, "_with the heart man believeth unto salvation, through love and good works_;" and that the right way of "_confessing Christ before men_" is by a _good life_.--These gentlemen tell us, that Dr. Franklin not only had religion, but had it in an eminent degree.

Most people seem inclined to judge of Dr. Franklin by these latter commentators, and wind up with the words of our great moral poet.

"For modes of faith, let graceless zealots fight; His can't be wrong, whose Life is in the right."

For my part, after all that I have heard on this subject, and I have heard a great deal, I do not know that I have met with any thing that expresses my opinion of Dr. Franklin's religion more happily than the following laconic remark by one of our most distinguished senators, I mean the honourable Rufus King. Knowing that this gentleman was a compatriot of Dr. Franklin during the revolution, and also sat by his side, a member of the grand Convention in 1788, I took the greater pleasure in asking his opinion of that great man in respect of his RELIGION. "Why, sir," replied he, "my opinion of doctor Franklin has always been, that, although he was not, perhaps, quite so orthodox in some of his notions, he was _very much a Christian in his practice_. Nor is it indeed to be wondered at," continued this able critic, "that a man of doctor Franklin's extraordinary sagacity, born and brought up under the light of the Gospel, should have imbibed its spirit, and got his whole soul enriched, and as it were interlarded, with its benevolent affections."

And I have since found from conversation with many of our most enlightened and evangelical divines, that they all agree, with Mr. King, that doctor Franklin's extraordinary benevolence and useful life were imbibed, even _unconsciously_, from the Gospel. For whence but from the luminous and sublime doctrines of that blessed book could he have gained such pure and worthy ideas of God--his glorious unity, and most adorable benevolence: always, himself, loving and doing good to his creatures; and constantly seeking such to worship him? Whence, we ask, could he have got all these exalted truths--truths, so honourable to the Deity--so consolatory to man--so auxiliary of human virtue and happiness--whence could he have got them, but from the light of the Gospel? Certainly, you will not say that he might have got them from the light of nature. For, look around you among all the mighty nations of antiquity. Look among the Egyptians--the Greeks--the Romans, to equal him? Two thousand years have rolled between them and us, and yet the immortal monuments of their arts--their poetry--their painting--their statuary--their architecture--their eloquence--all triumphant over the wreck of time, have come down to our days, boldly challenging the pride of modern genius to produce their parallels. Evidently then, they had among them prodigies of mind equal to our Franklin. And yet how has it yet come to pass, that, with all their astonishing talents, and the light of nature besides, they were so stupidly blind and ignorant of God, while he entertained such exalted ideas of him? That while they, like the modern idolaters of Juggernaut, were disgracing human reason by worshipping not only _four-footed beasts and creeping things_, but even thieves, murderers, &c. _deified_, doctor Franklin was elevating his devotions to the one all-perfect God, MOST GLORIOUS IN ALL MORAL EXCELLENCE.

And how has it come to pass that while _they_, imitating their bloody idols, could take pleasure in _sacrificing their prisoners of war! beholding murderous fights of gladiators!_ and even giving up _their own children to be burnt alive!_ Franklin, by imitating the moral character of God, attained to all that gentle wisdom and affectionate goodness that we fancy when we think of an angel? To what, I ask, can we ascribe all this, but to the very rational cause assigned by Mr. King, viz. his having been _born and brought up in a land of Gospel light and love_? Indeed, who can read the life of doctor Franklin, attentively, without tracing in it, throughout, that true Christian charity which bound him, as by the heart-strings, to his fellow men--on every occasion going out of self to take an interest in them. "Rejoicing with them, when they acted wisely and attained to honour."--"Weeping with them when they acted foolishly and came to shame." Never meeting with any good fortune, through wise doings of his own, but he made it known to them for their encouragement in similar doings--never falling into misfortunes, by his own folly, but he was sure to publish that too, to deter others from falling into the like sufferings.

Now what was it but this amiable _oneness of heart_, with his fellow men; this _sweet Christian sensibility_ to their interests and consequent generous delight in doing them good, that filled his life with such noble charities. "_Where love is_," said the great William Penn, "_there is no labour; or if there be, the labour is sweet._" And what was it but this, that bore him up so bravely under his many toils and hardships for his selfish brother James?

What made him so liberal of his money and services to the base Collins and Ralph?

What made him so patient and forgiving of the injuries done him by the worthless Keimer and Keith?

What made him so importunate with his young acquaintance in London, to divert them from their brutalizing and fatal intemperance?

What set him so vehemently against pride and extravagance, which besides starving all justice and hospitality among neighbours, tend to make them demons of fraud and cruelty to one another?

What made him, through life, such a powerful orator for industry, frugality, and honesty, which multiplied riches and reciprocal esteem and usefulness among men, and would make them all loving and happy as brothers?

In short, all those labours which doctor Franklin took under the sun--labours so various and unending, for public and private good, such as his fire-engines; his lightning rods; his public libraries; his free schools; his hospitals; his legacies for encouragement of learning, and helping hundreds of indigent young mechanics with money to carry on their trades after his death--whence originated all this, but from that love which is stronger than death, subduing all obstacles, and overleaping the narrow limits of this mortal life?

What but the ingenuity of love, eager to swell the _widow's_ mite of charity into the _rich_ man's talent could have suggested the following curious method of making a little do a great deal of good?

"Received of Benjamin Franklin, ten guineas, which I hereby promise, soon as I get out of my present embarrassments, to lend to some other honest and industrious man, as near as I can guess, he giving his obligation to act in the same way by the next needy honest man; so that by thus going around it may in time, though a small sum, do much good, unless stopped by a thief.

"JAMES HOPEWELL.

"_Passy, Aug. 10, 1773._"

What but the noble spirit of that religion whose sole aim is to "_overcome evil with good_" could have dictated the following instructions to Paul Jones, and his squadron, who after scouring the British channel, was about to make a descent on their coasts.

"As many of your officers and people have lately escaped from English prisons, you are to be _particularly attentive_ to their conduct towards the prisoners you take, lest resentment of the _more than barbarous_ usage which they have received from the English, should occasion a retaliation, and an imitation of what ought rather to be _detested and avoided for the sake of humanity and the honour of our country_.

"B. FRANKLIN.

"_To Commodore P. Jones._

"April 28, 1779."

What but the spirit of that benevolent religion which is the firm patroness of all discoveries for human benefit, could have dictated the ensuing letter "to the commanders of American ships of war," in favour of captain Cook.

"GENTLEMEN,

"A ship having been fitted out from England, before the commencement of this war, to make discoveries of new countries in unknown seas, under the conduct of that celebrated navigator, captain Cook--an undertaking truly laudable in itself, as the increase of geographical knowledge facilitates the communication between distant nations, and the exchange of useful products and manufactures, and the extension of arts, whereby the common enjoyments of human life are multiplied and augmented, and science of other kinds increased, to the benefit of mankind in general.

"This is, therefore, most earnestly to recommend to every one of you, that in case the said ship, which is now expected to be soon in the European seas, on her return, should happen to fall into your hands, you would not consider her as an enemy, but that you treat the said captain Cook and his people with all civility and kindness, affording them, as common friends to mankind, all the assistance in your power, which they may happen to stand in need of.

"I have the honour to be, &c.

"B. FRANKLIN,

"Minister plenipotentiary from the United States to the court of France.

"_Passy. near Paris, March 10, 1779._"

The truly christian spirit of doctor Franklin, which dictated this passport for captain Cook, was so highly approved by the British government, that, when Cook's voyages in three splendid quarto volumes were printed, the lords of the admiralty sent doctor Franklin a copy accompanied with the elegant plates, and also a _gold medal_ of that illustrious navigator, with a polite letter from lord Howe, informing him that this compliment was made to doctor Franklin with the _king's express approbation_.

* * * * *

What but the religion that brings life and immortality to light "could have sprung those high hopes and rich consolations," which shine in the following letter from doctor Franklin to his niece, on the death of her father, his favourite brother John Franklin.

"DEAR NIECE,

"I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and valuable relation. But it is the will of God 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 society? We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or doing good to our fellow creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become unfit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, 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, it was capable of making him suffer.

"Our friend and we were invited abroad on a grand 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?

"B. FRANKLIN."

* * * * *

What but that religion which teaches "the price of truth," could have made him so penitent for having said any thing, in his youthful days against revelation? And while the popular infidels of Europe, the Voltaires, and Humes, and Bolingbrokes were so fond of filling the world with their books against Christ, that they might, as one of them said, "_crush the wretch_," what but a hearty esteem of him could have led Franklin to write the following pious reproof of a gentleman, who having written a pamphlet against christianity, sent it to him, requesting his opinion of it.

DR. FRANKLIN'S ANSWER.

"SIR,

"I have read your manuscript with some attention. By the argument it contains against a particular _providence_, though 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 his displeasure, or to pray for his protection. I will not enter into any discussion of your principles, though 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. 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 disadvantages of vice, and possessing a strength of resolution sufficient to enable you to resist common temptations. But think how great a portion of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men and women, and of inexperienced 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 points of its security. And, perhaps, you are indebted to her original, 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 less hazardous objects, and thereby obtain a rank with our most distinguished authors. For among us it is not necessary, as among the Hottentots, that a youth, to be raised into the company of men, should prove his manhood by beating his mother. I would advise you, therefore, not to attempt _unchaining the tiger_, 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 _with_ religion, what would they be _without_ it? I intend this letter itself as a proof of my friendship, and therefore add no professions to it, but subscribe myself simply yours.

"B. FRANKLIN."

For the following, I owe many thanks to the honourable Mr. Rufus King.

After having answered my question on that subject, as before stated, viz. that he considered Dr. Franklin "_very much a christian in practice_," he added with a fine smile, as if happy that he possessed an anecdote so honourable to the religious character of his illustrious friend, and the friend of mankind--"_now, sir, I'll tell you an anecdote of Dr. Franklin_." The CONVENTION of '88, of which Dr. Franklin and myself were members, had been engaged several weeks in framing the present CONSTITUTION, and had done nothing. Dr. Franklin came in one morning, and rising in his place, called the attention of the house.--"We have been here, Mr. Speaker," said he, (George Washington was in the chair,) "a long time, trying to act on this important subject, and have done nothing; and in place of a speedy and successful close of our business, we see nothing but dark clouds of difficulty and embarrassment gathering before us. It in high time for us, Mr. Speaker, to call in the direction of a wisdom above our own.--(The countenance of Washington caught a brightness at these words, as he leaned forward in deepest gaze on Dr. Franklin.) Yes, sir, it is high time for us to call in the direction of a wisdom above our own. Our fathers before us, the wise and good men of ancient times, acted in this way. Aware of the difficulties and perils that attend all human enterprize, they never engaged in any thing of importance without having implored the guidance and blessing of heaven. The scriptures are full of encouragements to such practice. They every where assert a _particular providence_ over all his works. They assure us that the very hairs of our head are all numbered; and that not even a sparrow but is continually under the eye of his parental care. This, Mr. Speaker, is the language of the gospel, which I _most implicitly believe_; and which promises the guidance of divine wisdom to _all who ask it_. We have not asked it; and that may be the reason why we have been so long in the dark. I therefore move, Mr. Speaker, that it be made a rule to open the business of this house, every morning, _with prayer_."

The following also will show Dr. Franklin's firm belief in that very precious article of the religion of Christ--A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE.

To WILLIAM STRAHAN, Esq. London

_France, August 19th, 1784._

DEAR OLD FRIEND,

You "fairly acknowledge that the date war terminated quite contrary to your expectation." Your expectation was ill founded; for you would not believe your old friend, who told you repeatedly, that, by those measures, England would lose her colonies, as Epictetus warned in vain his master, that he would break his leg. You believed rather the tales you heard of our poltroonery, and impotence of body and mind. Don't you remember the story you told me of the Scotch sergeant, who met with a party of forty American soldiers, and, though alone, disarmed them all, and brought them in prisoners! A story almost as improbable as that of the Irishman, who pretended to have alone taken and brought in five of the enemy, by _surrounding_ them. And yet, my friend, sensible and judicious as you are, but partaking of the general infatuation, you seem to believe it. The word _general_ puts me in mind of a general, your general Clark, who had the folly to say, in my hearing, at sir John Pringle's, that with a thousand British grenadiers, he would undertake to go from one end of America to the other, and geld all the males. It is plain, he took us for a species of animals very little superior to brutes. The parliament, too, believed the stories of another foolish general, I forget his name, that the Yankees never _felt bold_. Yankee was understood to be a sort of Yahoo, and the parliament did not think the petitions of such creatures were fit to be received and read in so wise an assembly. What was the consequence of this monstrous pride and insolence! You first sent small armies to subdue us, believing them more than sufficient, but soon found yourselves obliged to send greater; these, whenever they ventured out of sight of their ships, were either obliged to scamper, or were beaten and taken prisoners. An American planter, who had never seen Europe, was chosen by us to command our troops, and continued during the whole war. This man sent home to you, one after another, five of your best generals, baffled, their heads bare of laurels, disgraced even in the opinion of their employers. Your contempt of our understandings, in comparison with your own, appeared to be not much better founded than that of our courage, if we may judge by this circumstance, that in whatever court of Europe a Yankee negotiator appeared, the wise British minister was routed,--put in a passion,--picked a quarrel with your friends,--and was sent home with a flea in his ear. But after all, my dear friend, do not imagine that I am vain enough to ascribe our success to any superiority in any of those points. I am too well acquainted with all the springs and levers of our machine, not to see that our human means were unequal to our undertaking, and that, if it had not been for the justice of our cause, and the consequent interposition of Providence, in which we had faith, we must have been ruined. If I had ever before been an Atheist, I should now have been convinced of the being and government of a Deity! It is HE who "abases the proud, and exalts the humble." May we never forget his goodness to us, and may our future conduct manifest our gratitude!

B. FRANKLIN.

Now, can any honest man, after this, entertain a doubt that Dr. Franklin was indeed, "_in practice very much a christian_."

I am aware that some, good men have been offended, and I may add, grieved too, that Dr. Franklin should ever have spoken slightingly of _faith_, &c. But these gentlemen may rest assured, that Dr. Franklin did this only to keep people from laying such stress on _faith_, &c. as to neglect what is infinitely more important, even LOVE and GOOD WORKS. And in this grand view, do not the holy apostles, and even Christ himself treat these things in the same way? Every where speaking of "_faith_ and _baptism_ and _long prayers_," when attempted to be put in place of love and good works, as mere "_beggarly elements_," and even "_damning hypocrisies_." However, let honest men read the following letter on the subject, by Dr. Franklin himself. While it serves to remove their doubts and prejudices, it may go to prove that if he had errors in religion, they were not the errors of the heart, nor likely to do any harm in the world; but contrariwise, to make us all much better christians, and happier men, than we are.

The letter is in answer to one from an illustrious foreigner; who, on a trip to Philadelphia, made Dr. Franklin a visit. The doctor, for some malady, advised him to try electricity; and actually gave him several shocks. He had not long been gone, before he wrote Dr. Franklin a most flattering account of the effects of his electricity--begged him to be assured he should never forget such KINDNESS--and concluded with praying that they might both have grace to live a life of FAITH, that if they were never to meet again in this world, they might at last meet in heaven.

DR. FRANKLIN'S ANSWER.

_Philadelphia, June 6, 1753._

SIR,

I received your kind letter of the 2d instant, and am glad that you increase in strength; I hope you will continue mending till you recover your former health.

As to the _kindness_ you mention, the only thanks I desire is, that you would always be equally ready to serve any other person that may need your assistance, and so let good offices go round, _for_ MANKIND ARE _all of a family_.

For my own part, when I am employed in serving others, I do not look upon myself as conferring favours, but as paying debts. In my travels, and since my settlement, I have received much kindness from men, to whom I shall never have any opportunity of making the least direct return--and numberless mercies from God, who is infinitely above being benefitted by our services. The kindness from men, I can, therefore, only return on their fellow men, and I can only show my gratitude for those mercies from God, by a readiness to help his other children, and my brethren. For I do not think that thanks and compliments, though repeated weekly, can discharge our real obligations to each other, and much less those to our Creator. You will see in this, my notion of good works; that I am far from expecting, as you suppose, to _merit heaven_ by them. By heaven, we understand a state of happiness; infinite in degree, and eternal in duration. I can do nothing to deserve such REWARDS. He that, for giving a draught of water to a thirsty person, should expect to be paid with a good plantation, would be modest in his demands, compared with those who think they _deserve_ heaven for the little good they do on earth. Even the mixed imperfect pleasures we enjoy in this world, are rather from God's goodness, than our merit; how much more such happiness as heaven. For my part, I have not the vanity to think I deserve it, the folly to expect it, nor the ambition to desire it; but content myself in submitting to the will and disposal of that God who made me--who has hitherto preserved and blessed me--and in whose FATHERLY GOODNESS I may well confide, that he will never make me miserable--and that even the afflictions I may at any time suffer shall tend to my benefit.

The faith you mention has, doubtless, its use in the world. I do not desire to see it diminished. But I wish it were more productive of _good works_ than I have generally seen it, I mean real good works; works of kindness, charity, mercy, and public spirit; not holiday keeping, sermon reading or hearing, performing church ceremonies, or making long prayers, filled with flatteries and compliments, despised even by wise men, and much less capable of pleasing the Deity. The worship of God is a _duty_; the hearing and reading of sermons _may_ be useful; but if men rest in _hearing_ and _praying_, as _too many do_, it is as if a tree should value itself on being watered and putting forth leaves, though it never produced any fruit. Your great master thought much less of these outward appearances and professions than many of his modern disciples. He preferred the _doers_ of the word to the mere _hearers_; the son that _seemingly_ refused to obey his father, and yet _performed_ his commands, to him that _professed_ his readiness, but _neglected_ the work; the heretical but charitable Samaritan, to the uncharitable though orthodox priest and sanctified Levite: and those who gave food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, raiment to the naked, entertainment to the stranger, and relief to the sick, though they never heard of his name, he declares they shall in the last day be accepted, when those who cry Lord, Lord, who value themselves on their faith, though great enough to perform miracles, but have neglected good works, shall be rejected. He professed he came "_not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance_," which implied his modest opinion, that there were some in his time so _good_, that they needed not to hear even _him_ for improvement; but now-a-days, we have scarce a little parson that does not think it the duty of every man within his reach, to think _exactly_ as he does, and that all dissenters offend God. I wish to such more humility, and to you health and happiness, being

Your friend and servant,

B. FRANKLIN.

What but the spirit of immortal love, which, not content with doing much good in life, fondly looks beyond, and feasts on the happiness that others are to derive from us long after we have ceased to live on earth; what, I ask, but that love, could have dictated

DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL.

_"When thou makest a feast, call not thy rich neighbours: lest they also bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee._

_"But when thou makest a feast, call the poor; and thou shalt be blessed. For they cannot recompense thee, for thou shall be recompensed at the resurrection of the just._

"LUKE, xiv."

Sentiments divinely sublime!--Who, without emotions indescribable, can read them! And yet if they were lost from the Bible, they might be found again in the _Will_ of Benjamin Franklin.

While many others "_rise early, and late take rest, and eat the bread of labour and care_," that they may "_die rich_"--leaving their massy treasures, some scanty legacies excepted, to corrupt a few proud relatives, doctor Franklin acted as though the above text, the _true sublime of wisdom and benevolence_, was before him.

After having _bequeathed_ his books, a most voluminous and valuable collection, partly to his family, and partly to the Boston and Philadelphia philosophical societies; and, after having divided a handsome competence among his children, and grand children, he goes on as follows:

"I. Having owed my first instructions in literature to the free grammar schools in Boston, I give one hundred pounds sterling to the free schools in that town, to be laid out in silver medals as honorary rewards for the encouragement of scholarship in those schools.

"II. All the debts to my post-office establishment, which I held many years, I leave to the Philadelphia hospital.

"III. Having always been of opinion, that in democratical governments, there ought to be no offices of _great_ profit, I have long determined to give a part of my public salary to public uses; and being chiefly indebted to Massachusetts, my _native_ state, and Pennsylvania, my _adopted_ state, for lucrative employments, I feel it my duty to remember them; and having from long observation, and my own early experience, discovered that the best objects for assistance are indigent young persons, and the best modes of assistance, a plain education, a good trade, and a little money to set them up; and having been set up in business, while a poor boy, in Philadelphia, by kind loans of money from two friends there, which was the foundation of my fortune and all the usefulness that the world ascribed to me, I feel a wish to be useful, after my death, to others, in the loans of money; I therefore devote, from the savings of my salaries, the following sums, to the following persons and uses:

"1. To the inhabitants of Boston and Philadelphia, one thousand pounds sterling to each city, to be let out by the oldest divines of different churches, on a _five per cent. interest_ and good _security_, to indigent young tradesmen, not _bachelors_, (as they have not deserved much from their country and the feebler sex,) but married men."

"2. No borrower to have more than sixty pounds sterling, nor less than fifteen."

"3. And in order to serve as many as possible in their turn, as well as to make the payment of the principal borrowed more easy, each borrower shall be obliged to pay, with the yearly interest, one tenth part of the principal; which sums of principal and interest, so paid, shall be again lent out to fresh borrowers.

"B. FRANKLIN."

In a late Boston paper, the friends of humanity have read with much pleasure that doctor Franklin's legacy to the indigent young married tradesmen of that town, of $4444 44 cents, is now increased to $10,902 28 cents, after having been the means of setting up 206 poor young men, besides 75 others, who are now in the use of the capital.