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DR. BENJAMIN FKAlNKLIiN. 
 
11 
 
 THE 
 
 OP 
 
 DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN: 
 
 CONSISTING OF 
 
 ESSAYS, 
 
 HUMOROUS, MORAL, AND LITERARY: 
 
 WITH HIS 
 
 LIFE, WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 Stereotyped by J. A. James. 
 
 BALTIMORE: 
 
 N. HICKMAN, MARKET STREET. 
 
<& 
 
 rf> 
 
 A #tf " 
 
 'A* 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 .... 
 
 As biography is a species of history, which re- 
 cords the lives and characters of remarkable 
 persons, it consequently becomes an interesting 
 subject, and is of general utility. It would be 
 but fair to assert, that almost every civilized na- 
 tion on the globe has, at one period or other, 
 produced distinguished individuals in various 
 stations of life. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, the President of the United 
 States of America, in his ** Notes on Virginia," 
 thus speaks, — in answer to the assertion of the 
 Abbe Raynal, that ' America has not yet pro- 
 duced one good poet, one able mathematician, 
 one man of genius, in a single art, or a single 
 science,' — " When we shall have existed as a 
 nation, as long as the Greeks did before they 
 produced a Homer, the Romans a Virgil, the 
 French a Racine and Voltaire, the English a 
 Shakspeare and Milton, should this reproach be 
 still true, we will inquire from what unfriendly 
 causes it has proceeded, that the other countries 
 of Europe and quarters of the earth shall not 
 
iv PREFACE, 
 
 have inscribed any name in the roll of poets. In 
 war we have produced a Washington, whose me- 
 mory will be adored while liberty shall have vo- 
 taries; whose name will triumph over time, and 
 will in future ages assume its just station among 
 the most celebrated worthies of the world, when 
 that wretched philosophy shall be forgotten 
 which would arrange him among the degenera- 
 cies of nature. In physics we have produced a 
 Franklin, titan whom no one of the present age 
 has made more important discoveries, nor has 
 enriched philosophy with more or more ingeni- 
 ous solutions of the phenomena of nature. We 
 have supposed Mr. Rittenhouse second to no 
 astronomer living; that in genius he must be the 
 first, because he is self-taught," &c. 
 
 In philosophy, England can boast of a Bacon, 
 the most eminent professor in this science the 
 world has ever produced. The Essays of this 
 great writer is one of the best proofs we can ad- 
 duce of his transcendent abilities; and America 
 claims the enlightened Franklin, a man who 
 has not left his equal behind him, and whose life 
 and writings are the subject of the following 
 sheets. 
 
 To say more m ihis place of our author would 
 be anticipating what is hereafter mentioned: it 
 will therefore only be necessary to add, that due 
 attention has been paid in the selection of such 
 of his productions as may be adapted to general 
 perusal. The following letter from the celeb ra- 
 
PREFACE. v 
 
 ted Dr. Price, to a gentleman in Philadelphia, 
 upon the subject of Dr. Franklin's Memoirs of 
 his own Life, will not, it is presumed, be consid- 
 ered inapplicable. 
 
 " Hackney, June 19, 1790. 
 
 *' Dear Sir, 
 
 " I am hardly able to tell you how kindly I 
 take the letters with which you favor me. Your 
 last, containing an account of the death of our 
 excellent friend, Dr. Franklin, and the circum- 
 stances attending it, deserves my particular grat- 
 itude. The account which he has left of his life 
 will show, in a striking example, how a man, by 
 talents, industry, and integrity, may rise from 
 obscurity to the first eminence and consequence 
 in the world; but it brings his history no lower 
 than the year 1757, and I understand that since 
 he sent over the copy, which I have read, he 
 has been able to mate no additions to it. It 
 is with a melancholy regret that I think of his 
 death; but to death we are all bound by the ir- 
 revocable order of nature, and in looking for- 
 ward to it, there is a comfort in being able to 
 reflect, that "we have not lived in vain, and that 
 all the useful and virtuous shall meet in a better 
 country beyond the grave. 
 
 " Dr. Franklin, in the last letter I received 
 from him, after mentioning his age and infirmi- 
 ties, observes, that it has been kindly ordered 
 by the Author of nature, that, as we draw nearer 
 the conclusion of life we are furnished with more 
 helps to wean us from it, amongst which one of 
 the strongest is the loss of dear friends. I was 
 delighted with the account you gave in your let- 
 ter of the honor shown to his memory at Phila- 
 1* 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 delphia, and by Congress; and yesterday I re- 
 ceived a high additional pleasure by being in- 
 formed that the National Assembly of France 
 had determined to go into mourning for him. 
 What a glorious scene is opened there! The an- 
 nals of the world furnish no parallel to it. One 
 of the honors of our departed friend is, that be 
 has contributed much to it. 
 
 " I am, with great respect, 
 
 " your obliged and very humble servant, 
 
 RICHARD PRICE." 
 
LIFE 
 
 OP 
 
 DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 
 My Dear Son, i 
 
 I have amused myself with collecting some 
 little anecdotes of my family. You may remem- 
 ber the inquiries I made, when you were with 
 me in England, among such of my relations as 
 were then living; and the journey I undertook 
 for that purpose. To be acquainted with the 
 particulars of my parentage and life, many of 
 which are unknown to you, 1 flatter myself, 
 will afford the same pleasure to you as to me. 
 I shall relate them upon paper; it will be an 
 agreeable employment of a weeks uninter- 
 rupted leisure, which I promise myself during 
 my present retirement in 1he country. There 
 are also other motives which induce me to the 
 undertaking. From the bosom of poverty and 
 obscurity, in which I drew my first breath and 
 spent my earliest years, I have raised myself 
 to a state of opulence and to some degree of 
 celebrity in the world. A constant good for- 
 tune has attended me through every period of 
 life, to my present advanced age; and my de- 
 scendants may be desirous of learning what 
 
8 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 were the means of which I made use, and 
 which, thanks to the assisting hand of Provi- 
 dence, have proved so eminently successful. 
 They may also, should they ever be placed in 
 a similar situation, derive some advantage from 
 my narrative. 
 
 When I reflect, as J frequently do, upon the 
 felicity I have enjoyed, I sometimes say to my- 
 self, that, were the offer made me, I would en- 
 gage to run again, from beginning to end, the 
 same career of life. All I would ask should be 
 the privilege of an author, to correct, in a se- 
 cond edition, certain errors of the first. I could 
 wish, likewise, if it were in my power, to change 
 some trivial incidents and events for others 
 more favorable. Were this, however, denied 
 me, still I would not decline the offer. But 
 since a repetition of life cannot take place, 
 there is nothing which, in my opionin, so nearly 
 resembles it, as to call to mind all the circum- 
 stances, and to render their remembrance more 
 durable, commit them to writing. By thus em- 
 ploying myself, I shall yield to the inclina- 
 tion so natural to old men, to talk of themselves 
 and their exploits, and may freely follow my 
 bent, without being tiresome to those, who 
 from respect to my age, might think themselves 
 obliged tolisten to me, as they will be at liber- 
 ty to read me or not, as they please. In fine, 
 (and I may well avow it, since nobody would 
 believe me were I to deny it,) I shall, perhaps, 
 by this employment, gratify my vanity, scarce- 
 ly indeed have I ever heard or read the intro- 
 ductory phrase, "I may say without vanity ," 
 but some striking and characteristic instance 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 9 
 
 of vanity has immediately followed. The gen- 
 erality of men hate vanity in others, however 
 strongly they may be tinctured with it them- 
 selves; for myself, I pay obeisance to it where- 
 ever I meet it, persuaded that it is advantageous 
 as well to the individual whom it governs, as 
 to those who are within the sphere of its influ- 
 ence. Of consequence, it would, in many ca- 
 ses, not be wholly absurd, that a man should 
 count his vanity among the other sweets of 
 life, and give thanks to Providence for the 
 blessing. 
 
 And here let me with all humility acknowl- 
 edge, that to Divine Providence I am indebted 
 for the felicity I have hitherto enjoyed. It is 
 that power alone which has furnished me with 
 the means 1 have employed and that has 
 crowned them with success. My faith in this 
 respect leads me to hope, though I cannot count 
 upon it, that the Divine goodness will still be 
 exercised towards me, either by prolonging the 
 duration of my happiness to the close of life, or 
 by giving me fortitude to support any melan- 
 choly reverse, which may happen to me, as to 
 so many others. My future fortune is unknown 
 but to Him in whose hand is our destiny, and 
 who can make our very afflictions subservient 
 to our benefit. 
 
 One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of 
 collecting anecdotes of our family, gave me 
 some notes, from which I have derived many 
 particulars respecting our ancestors. From 
 these I learn, that they had lived in the same 
 village, (Eaton, in Northamptonshire,) upon a 
 freehold of about thirty acres, for the space at 
 a 2 
 
10 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 least of three hundred years. How long they 
 had resided there prior to that period, my uncle 
 had been unable to discover; probably ever since 
 the institution of surnames, which had former- 
 ly been the name of a particular order of indi- 
 viduals.* 
 
 This petty estate would not have sufficed for 
 their subsistence, had they not added the trade 
 of blacksmith, Which was perpetuated in the 
 family down to my uncle's time, the eldest son 
 having been uniformlybrought up to this employ- 
 ment; a custom which both he and my father 
 observed with respect to their eldest sons. 
 
 In the researches I made at EatoD, I found no 
 account of their births, marriages, and deaths, 
 earlier than the year 1555; the parish register not 
 
 * As a proof that Franklin was anciently fhe common name of 
 an order or rank in England, see Jude Fortesqae,de laudibue Iegum 
 Anglhe, written about the year 1412, in which is t he following 
 passage, to show that good juries might easily be formed in any 
 part of England: 
 
 •' Regio etiam ilia, in respersa rcfertaquc est possessoribus terra- 
 rum et agrorum, quod in ea, villula tarn parva reperiri non poterit, 
 in qua non est miles, armiger, vel paterfamilias, qualis ibidem 
 Franklin vulgariter nuncupatar, magnis dictates possessionibus, 
 nee non libere tenent.es at alii valectit plurimi, suis patrimoniis 
 sufficientes, ad faciendum juratum, in forma prsehotata." 
 
 " Moreover, the same country is so filled and replenished with 
 landed menne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot be found 
 wherein dwelleth not a knight, an esquire, or such an householder 
 as is there commonly called a Franklin, enriched with great pos- 
 sessions; and also otj or freeholders and many yeomen, able for their 
 livelihoods to make a jury in form aforementioned." 
 
 Old, Translation. 
 Chaucer, too, calls his country gentleman a Franklin, and after 
 describing his good housekeeping, thus characterizes him; 
 This worthy Franklin bore a purse of silk, 
 Fix'd to his girdle, white as morning milk, 
 Knight of the shire, first justice at the assize, 
 To help the poor, the doubtful to advise, 
 In all employments, generous, just he prov'd 
 Renown'd for courtesy, by all belov'd. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 11 
 
 extending further back than that period. The 
 register informed me, that I was the youngest son 
 of the youngest branch of the family, counting five 
 generations. My grandfather' Thomas, who was 
 born 1598, lived at Eaton till he was too old to 
 continue his trad£, when he retired to Banbury, 
 in Oxfordshire, where his son John, who was 
 a dyer, residded,and with whom my father was 
 apprenticed. He died, and was buried there; we 
 saw his monument in 1758. His eldest son lived 
 in the family house at Eaton, which he bequea- 
 thed, with the land belonging to it, to his only 
 daughter, who, in concert with her husband, Mr. 
 Fisher, of Wellingborough, afterwards sold it to 
 Mr. Ested, the present proprietor. 
 
 My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thom- 
 as, John, Benjamin, and Josias. I shall give you • 
 such particulars of them as my memory will fur- 
 nish, not having my papers here, in which you 
 will find a more minute account, if they are not 
 lost during my absence. 
 
 Thomas had learned the trade of blacksmith 
 under his father; but possessing a good natural 
 understanding, he improved it by study, at the 
 solicitation of a gentleman of the name of Palmer, 
 who was at that time the principal inhabitant of 
 the village, and who encouraged in like manner 
 all my uncles to improve their minds. Thomas 
 thus rendered himself competent to the functions 
 of a country attorney: soon became an essential 
 personage in the affairs of the village: and was one 
 of the chief movers of every public enterprise, 
 as well relative to the county, as to the town of 
 Northampton. A variety of remarkable inci- 
 dents were told us of him at Eaton. After enjoy- 
 
12 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 ing the esteem and patronage of Lord Halifax, he 
 died January 6, 1702, precisely four years before 
 I was born. The recital that was made us of his 
 life and character, by some aged persons of the 
 village, struck you, I remember, as extraordina- 
 ry, from its analogy to what you know of myself. 
 "Hadhedied," said you, "just four years later, one 
 might have supposed a transmigration of souls." 
 
 John, to the best of my belief, was brought 
 up to the trade of a wool-dyer. 
 
 Benjamin served his apprenticeship in Lon- 
 don, to a silk-dyer. He was an industrious man; 
 I remember him well; for, while I was a child, 
 he joined my father at Boston, and lived for some 
 years in the house with us. A particular affec- 
 tion had always subsisted between my father 
 and him, and I was his godson. He arrived to a 
 great age. He left behind him two quarto vol- 
 umes of poems in manuscript, consisting of little 
 fugitive pieces addressed to his friends. He had 
 invented a short hand, which he taught me, but 
 having never made use of it, I have now forgotten 
 it. He was a man of piety, and a constant attend- 
 ant on the best preachers, whose sermons he took a 
 pleasure in writing down according to the expe- 
 ditory method he had devised. Many volumes 
 were thus collected by him. He was also ex- 
 tremely fond of politics, too much so perhaps for 
 his situation. I lately found in London a collec- 
 tion which he had made of all the principal 
 pamphlets relative to public affairs, from the 
 year 1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, 
 as appears by the series of numbers; but there 
 still remain eight in folio, and twenty-four in 
 quarto and octavo. The collection had fallen 
 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 13 
 
 into the hands of a second-hand bookseller, who 
 knowing me by having sold me some books, 
 brought it to me. My uncle, it seems, had left 
 it behind him on his departure for America, 
 about fifty years ago. I found various notes of 
 his writing in the margins. His grandson, Sam- 
 uel, is now living at Boston. 
 
 -Our humble family had early embraced the 
 reformation. They remained faithfully attached 
 during the reign of Queen Mary, when they 
 were in danger of being molested on account of 
 their zeal against Popery. They had an English 
 Bible, and to conceal it the more securely, they 
 conceived the project of fastening it, open, with 
 pack-threads across the leaves, on the inside of 
 the lid of a close-stool. When my great-grand- 
 father wished to read to his family, he reversed 
 the lid of the close-stool upon his knees, and 
 passed the leaves from one side to the other, 
 which were held down on each by the pack- 
 thread. One of the children was stationed at 
 the door to give notice if he saw the proctor, an 
 officer of the spiritual court, make his appear- 
 ance; in that case, the lid was restored to its 
 place, with the Bible concealed under it as be- 
 fore. I had this anecdote from my uncle Benja- 
 min. 
 
 The whole family preserved its attachment to 
 the Church of England, till towards the close of 
 the reign of Charles II. when certain ministers, 
 who had been ejected as non-conformists, having 
 held conventicles in Northamtonshire, they were 
 joined by Benjamin and Josias, who adhered to 
 them ever after. The rest of the family contin- 
 ued in the Episcopal Church. 
 2 B 
 
14 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 My father, Josias, married early in life. He 
 went with his wife and three children to New- 
 England, about the year 1682. Conventicles 
 being at that time prohibited by law, and fre- 
 quently disturbed, some considerable persons of 
 his acquaintence determined to go to America, 
 where they hoped to enjoy the free exercise of 
 their religion, and my father was prevailed on 
 to accompany them. 
 
 My father had also by the same wife, four chil- 
 dren born in America, and ten others by a sec- 
 ond wife, making in all seventeen. I remember 
 to have seen thirteen seated together at his 
 table, who had all arrived at years of maturity, 
 and were married. I was the last of the sons, 
 and the youngest child, excepting two daughters. 
 I was born at Boston, in New-England. My 
 mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger, 
 daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colon- 
 ists of New-England, of whom Cotton Mather 
 makes honorable mention, in his Ecclesiastical 
 History of that province, as "a pious and learned 
 Englishman," if I rightly recollect his expres- 
 sions. I have been told of his having written a 
 variety of little pieces; but there appears to be 
 only one in print, which 1 met with many years 
 ago. It was published in the year 1675, and is 
 in familiar verse, agreeably to the taste of the 
 times and the country. ( The author addresses 
 himself to the governors for the time being, 
 speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favor of 
 the anabaptists, quakers, and other sectaries, 
 who had suffered persecution. To this persecu- 
 tion he attributes the wars with the natives, and 
 other calamities which afflicted the country, re- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 15 
 
 garding them as the judgments of God, in pun- 
 ishment of so odious an offence, and he exhorts 
 the goverment to the repeal of laws so contrary 
 to charity. The poem appeared to be written 
 with a manly freedom and a pleasing simplicity. 
 I recollect the six concluding lines, though I 
 have forgotten the order of the words of the two 
 first; the sense of which was, that his censures 
 were dictated by benevolence,, and that; of con- 
 sequence, he wished to be known as the author, 
 because, said he, I hate from my very soul dis- 
 simulation. 
 
 From Sherburn* where I dwell, 
 
 I therefore put my name, 
 Your friend who means you well. 
 
 PETER FOLGER. 
 
 My brothers were all put apprentices to differ- 
 ent trades. With respect to myself, I was sent, 
 at the age of eight years, to a grammar school. 
 My father >destined me for the church, and al- 
 ready regarded me as the chaplain of the family. 
 The promptitude with which, from my infancy, 
 I had learned to read, for I do not remember to 
 have been ever without this acquirement, and 
 the encouragement of his friends, who assured 
 me that I should one day certainly become a 
 man of letters, confirmed him in his design. My 
 uncle Benjamin approved also of the scheme, 
 and promised to give me all his volumes of ser- 
 mons, written, as I have said, in the short hand 
 of his invention, if I would take the pains to 
 learn it. 
 
 * Town in the Island of Nantucket. 
 
1G LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 I remained, however, scarcely a year at the 
 grammar school, although, in this short interval, 
 I had risen from the middle to the head of my 
 class, from thence to the class immediately 
 above, and was to pass, at the end of the year, 
 to the next one in oz-der. But my father, bur- 
 thened with a numerous family, found that he 
 was incapable, without subjecting himself to dif- 
 ficulties, of providing for the expence of a col- 
 legiate education, and considering besides, as I 
 heard him say to his friends, that persons so ed- 
 ucated were often poorly provided for, he re- 
 nounced his first intentions, took me from the 
 grammar school, and sent me to a school for wri- 
 ting and arithmetic, kept by a Mr. George 
 Brownwel, who was a skillful master, and suc- 
 ceeded very well in his profession, by employing 
 gentle means only, and such as were calculated 
 to encourage his scholars. Under him I soon 
 acquired an excellenthand; but I failed in arith- 
 metic, and made therein no sort of progress. 
 
 At ten years of age, I was called home to as- 
 sist my father in his occupation, which was that 
 of soap-boiler and tallow chandler; a business to 
 which he had served no apprenticeship, but 
 which he had embraced on his arrival in New- 
 England, because he found his own, that of a 
 dyer, in too little request to enable him to main- 
 tain his family. I was accordingly employed in 
 cutting the wicks and filling the moulds, taking 
 care of the shop, carrying messages, &c. 
 
 This business displeased me, and 1 felt a strong 
 inclination for a sea life; but my father set his 
 face against it. The vicinity of the waters, 
 however, gave me frequent opportunities of ven- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 17 
 
 turing myself, "both upon and within it, and I 
 soon acquired the art of swimming-, and of man- 
 aging a boat. When embarked jvith other chil- 
 dren, the helm was commonly deputed to me, 
 particularly on difficult occasions; and 5 in every 
 other project. I was almost always the leader of 
 the troop, whom I sometinles involved in era- 
 barrasment. I shall give an instance of this, 
 which demonstrates an early disposition of mind 
 for public enterprises, though the one in ques- 
 tion was not conducted by justice. 
 
 The mill pond was terminated on one side by 
 a marsh, upon the borders of which we were ac- 
 customed to take our stand, at high water, to 
 angle for small fish. By dint of walking, we had 
 converted the place into a perfect quagmire. 
 ?vly proposal was to erect a wharf that should 
 afford us firm footing; and I pointed out to my 
 companions a large heap of stones, intended for 
 the building of a new house near the marsh 3 and 
 which were well adapted for our purpose. Ac- 
 cordingly, when the workmen retired in the 
 evening, I assembled a number of my playfel- 
 lows, and by labouring diligently, like ants, some- 
 times four of us uniting our strength to carry a 
 single stone, we removed them all, arid con- 
 structed our little quay. The workmen were 
 surprised the next morning at not finding their 
 stones, which had been conveyed to our wharf. 
 Inquiries were made respecting the authors of 
 this conveyance; we were discovered; complaints 
 were exhibited against us; many of us underwent 
 correction on the part of our parents, and though 
 1 strenuously defended the utility of the work, 
 my father at length convinced me, that nothing 
 2* b2 
 
18 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 which was not strictly honest could be useful. 
 It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you 
 to know what sort of a man my father was.— 
 He had an excellent constitution, was of a mid- 
 dle size, but well made and strong, and extreme- 
 ly active in whatever he undertook. He design- 
 ed with a degree of neatness, and knew a little 
 of music. His voice was sonorous and agreea- 
 ble; so that when he sung a psalm or hymn with 
 accompaniment of his violin, as was his frequent 
 practice in an evening, when the labors of the 
 day were finished, it was truly delightful to hear 
 him. He was versed also in mechanics; and 
 could, upon occasion, use the tools of a variety 
 of trades. But his greatest excellence was a 
 sound understanding, and solid judgment in mat- 
 ters of prudence, both in public and private life. 
 In the former, indeed, he never engaged, be- 
 cause his numerous family, and the mediocrity 
 of his fortune, kept him unremittingly employed 
 in the duties of his profession. But I very well 
 remember, that the leading men of the place 
 used frequently to come and ask his advice re- 
 specting affairs of the town, or of the church to 
 which he belonged , and that they paid much deffer- 
 ence to his opinion. Individuals were also in 
 the habit of consulting him in their private af- 
 fairs; and he was often chosen arbiter between 
 contending parties. 
 
 He was fond of having at his table, as often as 
 possible, some friends, or well informed neigh- 
 bours, capable of rational conversation; and he 
 was always careful to introduce useful or ingen- 
 ious topics of discourse, which might tend to 
 form the minds of his children. By this means, he 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 19 
 
 early attracted our attention to what was just, 
 prudent, and beneficial in the conduct of life. 
 He never talked of the meats which appeared 
 upon the table, never discussed whether they 
 were well or ill dressed, of good or bad flavour, 
 high seasoned or otherwise, preferable or inferi- 
 or to this or that dish of similar kind. Tims ac- 
 customed, from my infancy to the utmost inat- 
 tention to these objects, I have always been per- 
 fectly regardless of what kind of food was before 
 me; and I pay so little attention to it, even now, 
 that it would be a hard matter for "me to recol- 
 lect, a few hours after I had dined, of what my 
 dinner had consisted. When travelling, I have 
 particularly experienced the advantage of this 
 habit; for it has often happened to me to be in 
 company with persons, who, having a more deli- 
 cate, because a more exercised taste, have suf- 
 fered in many cases considerable inconvenience; 
 while as to myself, I have had nothing to desire. 
 
 My mother was likewise possessed of an ex- 
 cellent constitution. She suckled all her ten 
 children, and I never heard either her or my 
 father complain of any other disorder than that 
 of which they died; — my father at the age of 
 eighty-seven, and my mother at eighty-five. — 
 They are buried together at Boston, where a few 
 years ago I placed a marble over their grave 
 with this inscription:— 
 
 "Here lie Josiah Franklin and Abiah his 
 wife. They lived together with reciprocal af- 
 fection for fifty-nine years; and without private 
 fortune, without lucrative employment, by assid- 
 uous labour and honest industry, decently sup- 
 ported a numerous family, and educated with 
 
20 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 success, thirteen children, and seven grand-chil- 
 dren. Let this example, reader, encourage thee 
 diligently to discharge the duties of thy calling, 
 and to rely on the support of Divine Providence. 
 He was pious and prudent — she discreet and 
 virtuous. 
 
 "Their youngest son, from a sentiment of filial 
 duty consecrates this stone to their memory." 
 
 I perceive by my rambling- digression, that I 
 am growing old. But we do not dress for a pri- 
 vate company as for a formal ball. This de- 
 serves, perhaps, the name of negligence. 
 
 To return. I thus continued employed in my 
 father's trade for the space of two years; that is 
 to say, till I arrived at twelve years of age. — 
 About this time, my brother John, who had ser- 
 ved his apprenticeship in London, having quitted 
 his father, and being married and settled in bu- 
 siness, on his own account, at Rhode-Island, I 
 was destined to all appearance, to supply his 
 place and be a candle-maker all my life; but my 
 dislike of this occupation continuing, my father 
 was apprehensive, that, if a more agreeable one 
 were not offered me, I might play the truant, 
 and escape to sea; as, to his extreme mortifica- 
 tion, my brother Josias had done. He, tkere- 
 fore, took me sometimes to see masons, coopers, 
 glaziers, joiners, and other mechanics, employed 
 at their work, in order to discover the bent of 
 my inclination and fix it, if he could, upon some 
 occupation that might retain me on shore. I 
 have since, in consequence of these visits, de- 
 rived no small pleasure in seeing skillful work- 
 men handle their tools; and it has proved of con- 
 siderable benefit, to have acquired thereby suf- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 21 
 
 ficient knowledge to be able to make little 
 things for myself, when I have had no mechanic 
 at hand, and to construct small machines for my 
 experiments, while the idea I have conceived 
 has been fresh and strongly impressed on my 
 imagination. 
 
 My father at length decided that I should be 
 a cutler, and I was placed for some days upon 
 trial with my cousin Samuel, son of my uncle 
 Benjamin, who had learned his trade in London, 
 and had established himself at Boston. But the 
 premium he required for my apprenticeship dis- 
 pleasing my father, I was recalled home. 
 
 From my earliest years I had been passion- 
 ately fond of reading, and I laid out in books all 
 the little money I could procure. I was partic- 
 ularly pleased with accounts of voyages. My 
 f rst acquisition was Bunyan's collection in small 
 te^erate volumes. These I afterwards sold in 
 >rder to buy an historical collection by R. Bur- 
 :on, which consisted of small cheap volumes, 
 amounting in all to about forty or fifty. My 
 father's little library was principally made up of 
 books practical and polemical theology. I read 
 the greatest part of them. I have since often 
 regretted, that at a time when I had so great a 
 thirst for knowledge, more eligible books had 
 not fallen into my hands, as it was then a point 
 decided, that I should not he educated for the 
 church. There was also among my father's 
 books, Plutarch's Lives, in which I read contin- 
 ually, and I still regard as advantageously em- 
 ployed the time I devoted to them. I found be- 
 sides a work of de Foe's entitled, An Essay on 
 Projects, from which, perhaps, I derived impres- 
 
22 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 sions that have since influenced some of the prin* 
 cipal events of my life. 
 
 Myinclination for books at last determined 
 my father to make me a printer, though he had 
 already a son in that profession. My brother had 
 returned from England' in 1717' with a press 
 and types, in order to establish a printing house 
 at Boston. This business pleased me much bet- 
 ter than that of my father, though I had still a 
 predilection for the sea. To prevent the effects 
 which might result from this inclination, my fa- 
 ther was anxious to see me engaged with my 
 brother. I held back for some time; at length, 
 however' I sufferd myself to be persuaded, and 
 signed my indentures, being then, only twelve 
 years of age. It was agreed that I should serve 
 as an apprentice to the age of twenty-one, and 
 should receive journeyman's wages only during 
 the last year. 
 
 In a very short time I made great proficiency 
 in this buisness, and became very serviceable to 
 my brother. I had now an opportunity of pro- 
 curing better books. The acquaintance I neces- 
 sarily formed with booksellers' apprentices, en- 
 abled me to borrow a volume now and then, 
 which I never failed to return punctually and 
 without injury. How often has it happened to 
 me to pass the greater part of the night in rea- 
 ding, by my bed side, when the book had been 
 lent me in the evening, and was to be returned 
 the next morning, lest it might be missed or 
 wanted. 
 
 At length Mr. Matthew Adams, an ingenious 
 tradesman, who had a handsome collection of 
 books, and who frequented our printing house, 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 23 
 
 took notice of n\e. He invited me to see his li- 
 brary, and had the goodness to lend me any books 
 I was desirous of reading. I then took a strange 
 fancy for poetry and composed several little pie- 
 ces. My brother thinking he might find his ac- 
 count in it, encouraged me, and engaged me to 
 write two ballads. One, called the Lighthouse 
 Tragedy, contained an account of the shipwreck 
 of Capt. Worthilake, and his twO daughters; the 
 other was a sailor's song on the capture of the 
 noted pirate called Teach, or Blackbeard. They 
 were wretched verses, in point of style — mere 
 blind men's ditties. When printed, he despatch- 
 ed me about the town to sell them. The first 
 had a prodigious run, because the event was re- 
 cent and had made a great noise. 
 
 My vanity was flattered by this success; but 
 my father checked my exultation, by ridiculing 
 my productions, and telling me that versifiers 
 were always poor. I thus escaped the misfor- 
 tune of being, probably, a very wretched poet. 
 But as the faculty of writing prose has been of 
 great service to me, in the course of my life, 
 and principally contributed to my advancement, 
 I shall relate by what means, situated as I was, 
 I acquired the small skill I may possess in that 
 way. v 
 
 There was in the town another young man, a 
 great lover of books, of the name of John Collins, 
 with whom I was intimately connected. We 
 frequently engaged in dispute, and indeed were 
 so fond of argumentation, that nothing was so 
 agreeable to us as a war of words. This conten- 
 tious temper, I would observe, by the by, is in 
 danger of becoming a very bad habit, and fre- 
 quently renders a man's company insupportable, 
 
24 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 as being no otherwise capable of indulgence 
 than by indiscriminate contradiction. Indepen- 
 dently of the acrimony and discord it introduces 
 into conversation, it is often productive of dis- 
 like, and even hatred, between persons to whom 
 friendship is indispensibly necessary. I acquired 
 it by reading, while I lived with my father, books 
 of religious controversy. I have since remarked 
 that men of sense seldom fall into this error; 
 lawyers, fellows of universities, and persons of 
 every profession, educated at Edinburgh, ex- 
 cepted. 
 
 Collins and I fell one day into an argument 
 relative to the education of women; namely, 
 wether it was proper to instruct them in the 
 sciences, and wether they were competent to 
 the study. Collins supported the negative, and 
 affirmed that the task was beyond their capacity. 
 I maintained the opposite opinion, a little, per- 
 haps, for the pleasure of disputing. He was nat- 
 urally more eloquent than I; words flowed copi- 
 ously from his lips; and frequently I thought my- 
 self vanquished, more by his volubility than by 
 the force of his arguments. We separated with- 
 out coming to an agreement upon this point; and 
 as we were not to see each other again for some 
 time, I committed my thoughts to paper, made a 
 fair copy and sent it to him. He answered, and 
 I replied. Three or four letters had been writ- 
 ten by each, when my father chanced to light 
 upon my papers, and read them. Without enter- 
 ing into the merits of the cause, he embraced the 
 opportunity of speaking to me upon my manner 
 of writing. He observed, that though I had the 
 advantage of my adversary in correct spelling 
 and pointing, which I owed to my occupation, I 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 25 
 
 was greatly his inferior in elegance of expression, 
 in arrangement and perspicuity. Of this he con- 
 vinced me by several examples. I felt the jus- 
 tice of his remarks, became more attentive to 
 language, and resolved to make every effort to 
 improve my style. Amidst these resolves, an 
 odd volume of the Spectator fell into my hands. 
 This was a publication I had never seen. I 
 bought the volume, and read it again and again. 
 I was enchanted with it — thought the style ex- 
 cellent, and wished it were in my power to imi- 
 tate it. With this view I selected some of the 
 papers, made short summaries of the sense of 
 each period, and put them for a few days aside. 
 I then, without looking at the book, endeavour- 
 ed to restore the essays to their due form, and 
 to express each thought at length, as it was in 
 the original, employing the most appropriate 
 words that occurred to my mind. I afterwards 
 compared my Spectator with the original; I per- 
 ceived some faults, which I corrected; but I 
 found that I wanted a fund of words, if I may so 
 express myself, and a facility of recollecting and 
 employing them, which I thought I should by 
 that time have acquired, had I continued to 
 make verses. The continual need of words of 
 the same meaning, but of different lengths for the 
 measure, or of different sounds for the Vhyme, 
 would have obliged me to seek for a variety of 
 synonymes, and have rendered me master of 
 them. From this belief, I took some of the tales 
 of the Spectator, and, turned them into verse^ 
 and after a time, when I had sufficiently forgot- 
 ten them, I again converted them into prose. 
 
 Sometimes, also, I mingled all my summaries 
 together; and a few weeks after, endeavoured to 
 arrange them in the best order, before I at- 
 3 B 
 
26 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 tempted to form the periods and complete the es- 
 says. This I did with a view of acquiring meth- 
 od in the arrangement of my thoughts. On com- 
 paring afterwards, my performance with the ori- 
 ginal, many faults were apparent, which I cor- 
 rected; but I had sometimes the satisfaction to 
 think, that in certain particulars, of little im- 
 portance, I had been fortunate enough to im- 
 prove the order of thought, or the style; and this 
 encouraged me to hope that I should succeed, in 
 time, in writing decently in the English language, 
 which was one of the great objects of my ambition. 
 
 The time which I devoted to these exercises, 
 and to reading, was the evening after my day's 
 labor was finished, the morning before it began, 
 and Sundays, when I could escape attending di- 
 vine service. While I lived with my father, he 
 had insisted on my punctual attendance on pub- 
 lic worship, and I still indeed considered it as a 
 duty, but a duty which I thought I had no time 
 to practice. 
 
 When about sixteen years of age, a work of 
 Tryon fell into my hands, in which he recom- 
 mends vegetable diet. I determined to observe 
 it. My brother, being a bachelor, did not keep 
 house, but boarded with his apprentices in a 
 neighboring family. My refusing to eat animal 
 food was found inconvenient, and I was often 
 scolded for my singularity. I attended to the 
 mode in which Tyron prepared some of his dish- 
 es, particularly how to boil potatoes and rice, 
 and make hasty puddings. I then said to my 
 brother, that if he would allow me per week, half 
 what he paid for my board, I would undertake to 
 maintain myself. The offer was instantly em 
 braced, and I soon found that of what he gave 
 me, I was able to save half. This was a new 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 27 
 
 fund for the purchase of books; and other advan- 
 tages resulted to me from the plan. When my 
 brother and his workmen left the printing-house, 
 to go to dinner, I remained behind; and des- 
 patching my frugal meal, which frequently con- 
 sisted of a biscuit only, or a slice of bread and a 
 bunch of raisins, or a bun from the pastry-cook's, 
 with a glass of water, I had the rest of the time 
 till their return for study: and my progress 
 therein, was proportioned to that clearness of 
 ideas, and quickness of conception, which are 
 the fruits of temperance in eatiug and drinking. 
 
 It was about this period, that having one day 
 been put to the blush for my ignorance in the art 
 of calculation, which I had twice failed to learn 
 while at school, I took Cocker's Treaties on 
 Arithmetic, and went through it by myself with 
 the utmost ease. I also read a book ef Naviga- 
 tion by Seller and Sturmy, and made myself 
 master of the little geometry it contains, but I 
 never proceeded far in this science. Nearly at 
 the same time, I read Locke on the Human Un- 
 derstanding, and the Art of Thinking, by Messrs. 
 Du Port Royal. 
 
 While laboring to form and improve my style, 
 I met with an English Grammar, which I believe 
 was Greenwood's, having at the end of it two lit- 
 tle essays on rhetoric and logic. In the latter 
 I found a model of disputation after the manner 
 of Socrates. Shortly after I procured Xeno- 
 phon's work, entitled, Memorable Things of Soc- 
 rates, in which are various examples of the same 
 method. Charmed to a degree of enthusiasm 
 with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and 
 renouncing blunt contradiction, and direct and 
 positive argument, I assumed the character of a 
 humble questioner. The perusal of Shaftsbury 
 and Collins, had made me a skeptic; and being 
 
28 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 previously so as to many doctrines of Christian- 
 ity, I found Socrates 3 method to be both the sa- 
 fest for myself, as^well as the most embarrassing 
 to those against whom I employed it. It soon 
 afforded me singular pleasure; I incessantly prac- 
 tised it, and became very adroit in obtaining, 
 even from persons of superior understanding, 
 concessions of which they did not foresee the 
 consequences. Thus I involved them in difficul- 
 ties from which they were unable to extricate 
 themselves, and sometimes obtained victories, 
 which neither my cause nor my arguments mer- 
 ited. 
 
 This method I continued to employ for some 
 years; but I afterwards abandoned it by degrees, 
 retaining only the habit of expressing myself 
 with modest diffidence, and never making use, 
 when J advanced my proposition which might be 
 controverted, of the words certainly, undoubted- 
 ly, or any others that might give the appearance 
 of being obstinately attached to my opinion. 
 I rather said, I imagine, I suppose, or it appears 
 to me, that such a thing is so or so, for such and 
 such reasons; or it is so, if I am not mistaken. 
 This habit has, I think, been of considerable ad- 
 vantage to me, when I had occasion to impress 
 my opinion on the minds of others, and persuade 
 them to the adoption of the measures I have sug- 
 gested. And since the chief ends of conversa- 
 tion are, to inform or to be informed, to please 
 or to persuade, I could wish that intelligent and 
 well-meaning men would not themselves dimin- 
 ish the powers they possess of being useful, by a 
 positive and presumtuous manner of expressing 
 themselves, which scarcely ever fails to disgust 
 the hearer, and is only calculated to excite op- 
 position, and defeat every purpose for which the 
 faculty of speech has been bestowed upon man. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 29 
 
 In short, if you wish to inform, a positive and 
 dogmatical manner of advancing your opinion 
 may provoke contradiction, and prevent your be- 
 ing heard with attention. On the other hand, if, 
 with a desire of being informed, and of benefit- 
 ting by the knowledge of others, you express 
 yourselves as being strongly attached to your 
 own opinions, modest and sensible men, who do 
 not love disputation, will leave you in tranquil 
 possession of your errors. By following such a 
 method, you can rarely hope to please your audi- 
 tors, conciliate their good will, or work convic- 
 tion on those whom you may be desirous of gain- 
 ing over to your views. Pope judiciously ob- 
 serves, 
 
 Men must be taught as if you taught them not, 
 And things unknown, propos'd as things forgot. 
 
 And in the same poem he afterwards advises us, 
 
 To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence. 
 He might have added to these lines, one that he 
 has coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with less 
 propriety. It is this: 
 
 For want of decency is want of sense* 
 If you ask why I say, with less propriety, I must 
 give you the two lines together: . 
 
 Immodest words admit of no defence, 
 
 For want of decency, is want of sense. 
 
 i 
 Now, want of sense, when a man has the misfor- 
 tune to be so circumstanced, is it not a kind of 
 excuse for want of modesty'? And would not the 
 verses have been more accurate, if they had been 
 constructed thus: 
 
 • Immodest words admit hut this defence 
 That want of decency is want of sense? 
 
 But I leave the dicision of this to better judges 
 than myself. 
 3* 
 
30 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 In 1720 or 1721, my brother began to print a 
 new public paper. It was the second that made 
 its appearance in America, and was entitled the 
 " New- En gland Courant." Tbe only one that ex- 
 isted before was the " Boston News-Letter ." Some 
 of his friends, I remember, would have dissuaded 
 him from this undertaking, as a thing that was 
 not likely to succeed; a single newspaper being, 
 in their opinion, sufficient for all America. At 
 present, however, in 1771, there are no less than 
 twenty-five. But he carried his project into ex- 
 ecution and I was employed in distributing the 
 copies to his customers, after having assisted in 
 composing and working them off. 
 
 Among his friends he had a number of literary 
 characters, who, as an amusement, wrote short 
 essays for the paper, which gave it reputation 
 and increased tbe sale. These gentlemen fre- 
 quently came to our house. I heard the conversa- 
 tion that passed, and the accounts they gave of 
 the favorable reception of their writings with the 
 public. I was tempted to try my hand among 
 them; but, being still a child as it were, I was 
 fearful that my brother might be unwilling to 
 print in his paper any performance of which he 
 should know me to be the author. I therefore 
 contrived to disguise my hand; and having writ- 
 ten an anonymous piece, I placed it at night un- 
 der the door of tbe printing-house, where it was 
 found the next morning. My brother communi- 
 cated it to his friends, when they came as usual 
 to see him, who read it, commented upon it with- 
 in my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure 
 to find that it met with their approbation; and 
 that, in their various conjectures they made res- 
 pecting the author, no one was mentioned who 
 did not enjoy a high reputation in the country 
 for talents and genius. I now supposed myself 
 
LTFE OF FRANKLIN, 31 
 
 fortunate in my judges, and began to suspect 
 that they were not such excellent writers as I 
 had hitherto supposed them. Be that as it may, 
 encouraged by this little adventure, I wrote and 
 sent to the press, in the same way, many other 
 pieces, which were equally approved; keeping* 
 the secret till my slender stock of information 
 aDd knowledge for such performances was pretty 
 completely exhausted, when I made myself 
 known. 
 
 My brother, upon this discovery, began to en- ' 
 tertain a little more respect forme; but he still re- 
 garded himself as my master, and treated me as 
 an apprentice. He thought himself entitled to the 
 same services from me, as from any other person. 
 On the contrary, I conceived that, in many in- 
 stances, he was too rigorous, and that, on the part 
 of a brother, I had a right to expect greater in- 
 dulgence. Our disputes were frequently brought 
 before my father; and either my brother wa's gen- 
 erally in the wrong, or I was the better pleader 
 of the two,- for judgement was commonly given in 
 my favour. Bat my brother was passionate, and 
 often had recourse to blows; — a circumstance 
 which I took in very ill part. This severe and ty- 
 rannical treatmentcontributed, I believe, to im- 
 print on my mind that aversion to arbitrary pow- 
 er, which, during my whole life, I have ever pre- 
 served. My apprenticeship became insupporta- 
 ble to me, and I continually sighed for an oppor- 
 tunity of shortening it; — which at length, unex- 
 pectedly, offered. 
 
 An article, inserted in our paper upon some po- 
 litical subject, which I have now forgotten, gave 
 offence to the assembly. My brother was taken 
 into custody, censured, and ordered into confine- 
 ment for a month, because, as I presume, he 
 would not discover the author. I was also taken 
 
32 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 tip: and examined before the council; but, though 
 I gave them no satisfaction, they contented them- 
 selves w\th reprimanding, and then dismissed me; 
 considering me, probably, as bound, in quality 
 of an apprentice, to keep my master's secrets. 
 
 The imprisonment of my brother, kindled my 
 resentment, notwithstanding our private quar- 
 rels. During its continuance the managementof 
 the paper was intrusted to me, and I was bold e- 
 nough to insert some pasquinades against the gov- 
 ernors; which highly pleased my brother, while 
 others began to look upon me in an unfavourable 
 point of view, considering me as a young wit, in- 
 clined to satire and lampoon. 
 
 My brother's enlargement was accompanied 
 with an arbitrary order from the house of assem- 
 bly, "That James Franklin should no longer 
 print the newspaper entitled the New England 
 Con rani." In this conjuncture, we held a con- 
 sultation of our friends at the printing-house, in 
 order to determine what was proper to be done. 
 Some proposed to evade the order, by changing 
 'the title of the paper; but my brother, foreseeing 
 inconveniences, that would result from this step, 
 thought it better that it should in future be prin- 
 ted in the name of Benjamin Franklin; and to a- 
 vold the censure of the assembly, who might 
 charge him with still printing the paper himself, 
 under the name of his apprentice, it was resolved 
 that my old indentures should be given up to me, 
 with a full and entire discharge, written on the 
 back, in order to be produced upon an emergency; 
 but that, to secure to my brother the benefit of my 
 service, I should sign a new contract, which should 
 be kept secret during the remainder of the term. 
 This was a very shallow arrangement. It was, 
 however, carried into immediate execution, and 
 the paper continued, in consequence, to make 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 33 
 
 its appearance for some months in my name. 
 
 At length, a new difference arising- between 
 my brother and me, I ventured to take advantage 
 of my liberty, presuming that he would not dare 
 to produce the new contract. It was undoubt- 
 edly dishonorable to avail myself of this circum- 
 stance, and I reckon this action as one of the 
 first errors of my life; but I was little capable of 
 estimating it at its true value, embittered as my 
 mind had been by the recollection of the blows I 
 had received. Exclusively of his passionate treat- 
 ment of me, my brother was by no means a man 
 of an ill temper, and perhaps my manners had 
 too much impertinence not to afford it a very 
 natural pretext. 
 
 When he knew that it was my determination 
 to quit him, he wished to prevent my finding em- 
 ployment elsewhere. He went to all the print- 
 ing-houses in the town, and prejudiced the mas- 
 ters against me; who accordingly refused to em- 
 ploy me. The idea then suggested itself to me 
 of going to New- York, the nearest town in which 
 was a printing-office. Farther reflection con- 
 firmed me in the design of leaving Boston, where 
 I had already rendered myself an object of suspi- 
 cion to the governing party. It was probable, 
 from the arbitrary proceedings of the assembly in 
 the affair of my brotner, that, by remaining, I 
 should soon have been exposed to difficulties, which 
 I had the greatest reason to apprehend, as, from 
 my indiscreet disputes upon the subject of reli- 
 gion, I began to be regarded by pious souls, with 
 horror, either as an apostate or an atheist. I came, 
 therefore, to a resolution; but my father, in this 
 instance, siding with my brother, I presumed that 
 if I attempted to depart openly, measures would 
 be taken to prevent me. My friend Collins un- 
 dertook to favor my flight. 
 b2 
 
34 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 He agreed for my passage with the captain of 
 a New-York sloop, to whom lie represented me 
 as a young man of his acquaintance, who had 
 had an alfair with a girl of bad character, whose 
 parents wished to compel me to marry her, and 
 that of consequence I could neither make my 
 appearance, nor go oil publicly. I sold part of 
 my books to procure a small sunt of money, and 
 went privately on board the sloop. By favor of 
 a good wind, I found myself in three days at 
 New-York, nearly three hundred miles from my 
 home, at the age of seventeen, without knowing 
 an individual in the place, and with very little 
 money in my pocket. 
 
 The inclination I had felt for a seafaring life 
 had entirely subsided, or I should now have been 
 able to gratify it; but having another trade, and 
 believing myself to he a tolerable workman, 
 F hesitated notto offer my services to the old Mr. 
 William Bradford, who had been the first Prin- 
 ter in Pennsylvania, but had quitted the pro- 
 vince on account of a quarrel with George Keith, 
 the governor. He could not give me employment 
 himself, having little to do, and already as many 
 persons as he wanted: but he told me that his 
 son, printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost his 
 principal workman, Aquila Rose, who was dead, 
 and that if I would go thither he believed that he 
 wouldengageme. Philadelphia was a hundred 
 miles further. I hesitated not to embark in a 
 boat, in order to repair, by the shortest cut of the 
 sea, to Amboy, leaving my trunk and effects to 
 come after me by the usual and more tedious 
 conveyauce. Tn crossing the bay we met with 
 a squall, which shattered to pieces, our rotten 
 sails, and prevented us from entering the KilJ 
 and threw us upon Long-Island. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 35 
 
 During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, who 
 like myself was a passenger in the boat, fell into 
 the sea. At the moment when he was sinking", 
 I seized him by the fore-top, saved him, and 
 drew him on board. This immersion sobered him 
 a little, so that he fell asleep, after having taken 
 from his pocket a volume, which he requested 
 me to dry. This volume, I found to be my old 
 favorite work, Bunyan's Pilgrim, in Dutch, a 
 beautiful impression on fine paper, with copper- 
 plate engravings; a dress in which I had never seen 
 it in its original language. I have since learn- 
 ed that it has been translated. into almost all the 
 languages of Europe, and next to the bible, I am 
 persuaded it is one of the books, which has had 
 the greatest spread. Honest John is the first 
 that I know of, who has mixed narrative and di- 
 alogue together; a mode of writing Very engag- 
 ing to the reader, who, in the most interesting 
 passages, finds himself admitted, as it were, into 
 the company, and present at the conversation. 
 De Foe has imitated it with success in his 
 Robinson Crusoe, Ids Moll Flanders, and other 
 works, as also Richardson in his Pamela, &c. 
 
 In approaching the island, we found that we 
 had made a part of the coast where it was not 
 possible to land, on account of the strong break- 
 ers produced by the rocky shore. We cast an- 
 chor and veered the cable towards the shore. 
 Some men, who stood upon the brink, halloed to 
 us, while we did the same on our part; but 
 the wind was so high, and the waves so noisy, that 
 we could neither of us hear each other. There 
 were some canoes upon the banks, and we called 
 out to them, and made signs to prevail on them to 
 come and take us up; but either they did not un- 
 derstand us, or they deemed our request imprac- 
 ticable, and withdrew. Night came on, and 
 
36 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 nothing remained for us, but to wait quietly the 
 subsiding of the wind; till when, we determined, 
 (that is, the pilot and I,) to sleep if possible. 
 For that purpose we went below the hatches, 
 along with the Dutchman, who was drenched with 
 water. The sea broke over the boat, and reached 
 us in our retreat, so that we were presently as 
 completely drenched as he. 
 
 We had very little repose during the whole 
 night; but the wind abating, the next day we 
 succeeded in reaching Amboy before it was dark, 
 after having passed thirty hours without provi- 
 sions, and with no other drink than a bottle of 
 bad rum, the water upon which we rowed being 
 salt. In the evening I went to bed with a very 
 violent fever. I had somewhere read, that cold, 
 water, drank plentifully, was a remedy in such 
 cases. I followed the prescription — was in a 
 profuse sweat for the greater part of the night, 
 and the fever left me. The next day I crossed 
 the river in a ferry-boat, and continued my jour- 
 ney on foot. I had fifty miles to walk, in order 
 to reach Burlington; where I was told I should 
 find passage boats that would convey me to Phil- 
 adelphia. It rained hard the whole day, so that 
 I was wet to the skin. Finding myself fatigued, 
 about noon I stopped at a paltry inn, where I 
 passed the rest of the day and the whole night — 
 beginning to regret that I had quitted my home. 
 I made besides so wretched a figure, that I was 
 suspected to be some runaway servant. This I 
 discovered by the questions that were asked me; 
 and I felt that I was every moment in danger of 
 being taken up as such. The next day, however, 
 I continued my journey, and arrived in the even- 
 ing at an inn, eight or ten miles from Burlington, 
 that was kept by one Dr. Brown. 
 
 This man entered into conversation with me, 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 37 
 
 while I took some refreshment, and perceiving 
 that I had read a little, he expressed towards me 
 considerable interest and friendship. Our ac- 
 quaintance continued during the remainder of his 
 life. I believe him to be what is called an itinerant 
 doctor; for there was no town in England, or in- 
 deed in Europe, of which he could not give a par- 
 ticular account. He was neither deficient in 
 understanding, nor literature; but he was a sad 
 infidel; and, some years after, wickedly undertook 
 to travesty the Bible in burlesque verse, as Cot- 
 ton has travestied Virgil. He exhibited, by this 
 means, many facts in a' very ludicrous point of 
 view, which would have given umbrage to weak 
 minds, had his work been published, which it 
 never was. 
 
 I spent the night at his house, and reached 
 Burlington the next morning. On my arrival, 
 I had the mortification to learn that the ordinary 
 passage-boats had sailed a little before. This 
 was on Saturday, and there would be no other 
 boat till the Tuesday following. I returned to 
 the house of an old woman in the town who had 
 sold me some gingerbread to eat on my passage, 
 and I asked her advice. She invited me to take 
 up my abode with her till an opportunity offered 
 for me to embark. Fatigued with having tra- 
 velled so far on foot, I accepted her invitation. 
 When she understood that I was a printer, she 
 would have persuaded me to stay at Burlington, 
 and set up my trade; but she was little aware of 
 the capital that would be necessary for such a 
 purpose! I was treated while at her house with 
 true hospitality. She gave me, with the utmost 
 good will, a dinner of beefsteaks, and would ac- 
 cept of nothing in return but a pint of ale. 
 
 Here I imagined myself to be fixed till the 
 Tuesday in the ensuing week; but, walking out 
 4 
 
38 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 in the evening by the river side, I saw a boat 
 with a number of persons in it approach. It was 
 going - to Philadelphia, and the company took me 
 in. As there was no wind, we could only make 
 way with our oars. About midnight, not per- 
 ceiving the town, some of the company were of 
 opinion that we must have passed it, and were 
 unwilling to row any farther; the rest not know- 
 ing where we were, it was resolved that we 
 should stop. We drew towards the shore, enter- 
 ed a creek, and landed near some old palisades, 
 which served us for fire-wood, it being a cold 
 night in October. Here we staid till day, when 
 one of the company found the place in which we 
 were to be Cooper's Creek, a little above Phila- 
 delphia, which, in reality, we perceived the mo- 
 ment we were out of the creek. We arrived on 
 Sunday about eight or nine o'clock in the morn- 
 ing, and landed on Market Street wharf. 
 
 I have entered into the particulars of my voy- 
 age, and shall, in like manner, describe my first 
 entrance into this city, that you may be able to 
 compare beginnings so little auspicious, with the 
 figure I have since made. 
 
 On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my 
 working dress, my best clothes being to come 
 by sea. I was covered with dirt; my pockets 
 were filled with shirts and stockings; I was unac- 
 quainted with a single soul in the place, and 
 knew not where to seek for a lodging. Fa- 
 tigued with walking, rowing, and having pas- 
 sed the night without sleep, I was extremely 
 hungry, and all my money consisted of a Dutch 
 dollar, and about a shilling's worth of coppers, 
 which I gave to the boatmen for my passage. 
 As I had assisted them in rowing, they refused it 
 at first; but I insisted on their taking it. A man 
 is sometimes more generous when he has little 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 39 
 
 than when he has much money; probably because, 
 in the first case, he is desirous of concealing his 
 poverty. 
 
 I walked towards the top of the street, looking 
 eagerly on both sides, till I came to Market street, 
 where I met with a child with a loaf of bread. Of- 
 ten had I made my dinner on dry bread. I inquired 
 where he had bought it, and went straight to the 
 baker's shop which he pointed out to me. ' I ask- 
 ed for some biscuits, expecting to find such as 
 we had at Boston; bu1 they made, it seems, none 
 of that sort at Philadelphia. I then asked for a 
 threepenny loaf. They made no loaves of that 
 price. Finding myself ignorant of the prices, as 
 well as the different kinds of bread, I desired 
 him to let me have threepenny-worth of bread 
 of some kind or other. He gave me three large 
 rolls. 1 was surprised at receiving so much : I 
 took them, however, and having no room in my 
 pockets, I walked on with a roll under each arm, 
 eating the third. In this manner I went through 
 Market Street to Fourth Street, and passed the 
 house of Mr. Read, the father of my future wife. 
 She was standing at the door, observed me, and 
 thought with reason, that I made a very singular 
 and grotesque appearance. 
 
 I then turned the corner, and went through 
 Chestnut Street, eating my roll ail the way; and 
 having made this round, I found myself again on 
 Market Street wharf, near the boat in which I 
 arrived. I stepped into it to take a draught of 
 the river water; and -finding myself satisfied with 
 my first roll, I gave the other two to a woman 
 and her child, who had come down the river with 
 us in the boat, and was waiting to continue her 
 journey. Thus refreshed, I regained the street, 
 which was now full of well-dressed people, all 
 going the same way. I joined them, and was 
 
40 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 thus led to a large Quaker's meeting-house near 
 the market-place. I sat down with the rest, 
 and, after looking round 'me for some time, hear- 
 ing nothing said, and being- drowsy from my last 
 night's labor and want of rest, I fell into a 
 sound sleep. In this, slate I continued till the 
 assembly dispersed, when one of the congrega- 
 tion had the goodness to wake me. This was 
 consequently the first house I entered, or in 
 which I slept at Philadelphia. 
 
 I began again to walk along the street, by the 
 riverside; and, looking attentively in the face 
 of every one I met with, I at length perceived a 
 young Quaker whose countenance pleased me. 
 I accosted him, and begged him to inform me 
 where a stranger might find a lodging. We 
 were then near the sign of the Three Mariners. 
 They receive travellers here, said he, but it is 
 not a house that bears a good character; if you 
 will go with me, I will show you a better one 
 He conducted me to the Crooked Billet, in Wa- 
 ter Street. There I ordered something for din- 
 ner, and during my meal, a number of curious 
 questions were put to me; my youth and appear 
 ance exciting the suspicion of my being a runa 
 way. After dinner my drowsiness returned, and 
 I threw myself upon a bed without taking off my 
 clothes, and slept till six o'clock in the evening, 
 when I was called to supper. I afterwards went 
 to bed at a very early hour-, and did not awake 
 till the next morning. 
 
 As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent 
 a trim as I could, and went to the house of An- 
 drew Bradford, the printer. I found his father 
 in the shop, whom I had seen at New York. 
 Having travelled on horseback, he had arrived 
 at Philadelphia before me. He introduced me 
 to his son, who received me with civility, and gave 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 41 
 
 me some breakfast; but told me he had no occa- . 
 sion at present for a journeyman, having lately 
 procured one. He added, that there was ano- 
 ther printer newly settled in the town, of the 
 name of Keimer, who might perhaps employ me; 
 and that in case of refusal, I should be welcome 
 to lodge at his house, and he would give me a 
 little work now and then, till something better 
 should offer. 
 
 The old man offered to introduce me to the 
 new printer. When we were dt his house, 
 "Neighbor," said he, "I bring you a young 
 man in the printing business; perhaps you may 
 have need of his services." 
 
 Keimer asked me some questions, put a com- 
 posing stick in my hand to see how I could 
 work, and then said, that at present he had no- 
 thing for me to do, but that he should soon be 
 able to employ me. At the same time taking 
 old Bradford for an inhabitant of the town well 
 disposed towards him, he communicated his 
 project to him, and the prospect he had of 
 success. Bradford was careful not to disco- 
 ver that he was the father of the other printer; 
 and from what Keimer had said, that he hoped 
 shortly to be in possession of the greater part of 
 the business of the town, led him, by artful ques- 
 tions, and by starting some difficulties, to dis- 
 close all his views, what his hopes -were founded 
 upon, and how he intended to proceed. I was 
 present, and heard it all. 1 instantly saw that 
 one of the two was a cunning old fox, and the 
 other a perfect novice. Bradford left me with 
 Keimer, who was strangely surprised when I 
 informed him who the old man was. 
 
 I found Keimer's printing materials to consist 
 of an old, damaged press, and a small fount of 
 worn-out English letters, with which he himself 
 4 * 
 
42 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 was at work upon an elegy upon Aquilla Rose, 
 whom I have mentioned above, an ingenious 
 young man, and of an excellent character, highly 
 esteemed in the town, secretary to the Assem- 
 bly, and a very tolerable poet. Keimer aLso 
 made verses, but they were indifferent ones. 
 He could not be said to write in verse, for his 
 method was to set the lines as they flowed from 
 his muse; and as he worked without copy, had 
 but one set of letter-cases, and the elegy would 
 occupy all his types, it was impossible for any 
 one to assist him. I endeavored to put his press 
 in order, which he had not yet used, and of 
 which indeed he understood nothing: and, hav- 
 ing promised to come and work off his elegy as 
 soon as it should be ready, I returned to th,e 
 house of Bradford, who gave me some trifles to 
 do for the present, for which I had my board and 
 lodging. 
 
 In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off 
 his elegy. He had now procured another set of 
 letter-cases, and had a pamphlet to reprint, upon 
 which he set me to work. 
 
 The two Philadelphia printers appeared des- 
 titute of every qualification necessary in their 
 profession. Bradford had not been brought up 
 to it, and was very illiterate. Keimer, though 
 he understood a little of the business, was merely 
 a compositor, and wholly incapable of working 
 at Press. He had been one of the French pro- 
 phets, and knew how to imitate their supernatu- 
 ral agitations. At the time of our first acquain- 
 tance he professed no particular religion, but a 
 little of all upon occasion. He was totally igno- 
 rant of the world, and a great knave at heart, as 
 I had afterwards an opportunity of experiencing. 
 
 Keimer could not endure that, working with 
 him, I should lodge at Bradford's. He had in- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 43 
 
 deed a house, but it was unfurnished; so that he 
 could not take me in. He procured me a lodg- 
 ing at Mr. Read's, his landlord, whom I have al- 
 ready mentioned. My trunk and effects being" 
 now arrived, 1 thought of making, in the eyes of 
 Miss Read, a more respectable appearance than 
 when chance exhibited me to her view, eating 
 my roll, and wandering in the streets. 
 
 From this period I began to contract acquain- 
 tance with such young people as were fond of 
 reading, and spent my evenings with them 
 agreeably, while at the same time I gained mo- 
 ney by my -industry, and, thanks to my frugality, 
 lived contentedly. I thus forgot Boston as much 
 as possible, and wished every one to be ignorant 
 of the place ofmy residence,except my friend Col- 
 lins, to whom I wrote, and who kept my secret. 
 
 An incident however arrived, which sent me 
 home much sooner than I had proposed. I had 
 a brother-in-law, of the name of Robert Holmes, 
 master of a trading sloop from Boston to Dela- 
 aware. Being at Newcastle, forty miles below 
 Philadelphia, he heard of me, and wrote to in- 
 form me of the chagrin which my sudden depar- 
 ture from Boston had occasioned my parents, 
 and of the affection which they still entertained 
 for me, assuring me that, if I would return, eve 
 ry thing should be adjusted to my satisfaction; 
 and he was very pressing in his intreaties. I 
 answered his letter, thanked him for his advice, 
 and explained the reasons which had induced 
 me to quit Boston, with such force and clearness, 
 that he was convinced I had been less to blame 
 than he had imagined. 
 
 Sir William Keith, Governor of the province, 
 was at Newcastle at the time. Captain Holmes, 
 being by chance in his company when he re- 
 ceived my letter, took occasion to speak of me 
 
44 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 and showed it him. The Governor read it, and 
 appeared surprised when he learned my age. 
 He thought me, he said, a young man of very 
 promising talents, and that of consequence, I 
 ought to be encouraged; that there were at 
 Philadelphia none but very ignorant printers, 
 and that if I were to set up for myself, he had no 
 doubt of my success; that, for his own part, he 
 would procure me all the public business, and 
 would render me every other service in his pow- 
 er. My brother-in-law related all this to me af- 
 terwards at Boston; but I knew nothing of it at 
 the time; when one day Keimer and I, being at 
 work together near the window, we saw the Gov- 
 ernor and another gentleman, Colonel French, 
 of Newcastle, handsomely dressed, cross the 
 street, and make directly for our house. We 
 heard thern at the door, and Keimer, believing 
 it to be a visit to himself, went immediately 
 down: but the Governor enquired for me, came 
 up stairs, and, with a condescension and polite- 
 ness to which I had not at all been accustomed, 
 paid me many compliments, desired to be ac- 
 quainted with me, obligingly reproached me for 
 not having made myself known to him on my ar- 
 rival in the town, and wished me to accompany 
 him to a tavern, where he and Colonel French 
 were going to taste some excellent Madeira wine. 
 I was, I confess, somewhat surprised, and Kei- 
 mer appeared thunderstruck. I went, however, 
 with the Governor and the Colonel to a tavern, 
 at the corner of Third Street, where, while we 
 were drinking the Madeira, he proposed to me 
 to establish a printing-house. He set forth the 
 probabilities of success, and himself and Colonel 
 French assured me that I should have their pro- 
 tection and influence in obtaining the printing" 
 of the public papers of both governments; an'l 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 45 
 
 as I appeared to doubt whether my father would 
 assist me in this enterprise, Sir William said 
 that he would give me a letter to him, in which 
 he would represent the advantages of the scheme, 
 in a light which he had no doubt would determine 
 him. It was thus concluded that I should return 
 to Boston by the first vessel with the letter of 
 recommendation, from the Governor to my fa- 
 ther. Meanwhile the project was to be kept 
 secret, and I continued to work for Keimer as 
 before. 
 
 The Governor sent every now and then to in- 
 vite me to dine with him. I considered this as 
 a very great honor; and I was the more sensible 
 of it, as he conversed with me in the most affa- 
 ble, familiar, and friendly manner imaginable. 
 
 Towards the end of April, 1724, a small ves- 
 sel was ready to sail for Boston. I took leave 
 of Keimer, upon the pretext of going to see my 
 parents. The Governor gave me a long letter, 
 in which he said many flattering- things of me to 
 my father; and strongly recommended the pro- 
 ject of my settling at Philadelphia, as a thing- 
 which could not fail to make my fortune. 
 
 Going down the bay we struck on a flat, and 
 sprung a leak. The weather was very tempes- 
 tuous, and we were obliged to pump without in- 
 termission; I took my turn. We arrived, how- 
 ever, safe and sound, at Boston, after about a 
 fortnight's pas-sage. 
 
 1 had been absent seven complete months, and 
 my relations, during that interval, had received 
 no intelligence of me; for my brother-in-law, 
 Holmes, was not yet returned, and had not writ- 
 ten about me. My unexpected appearance sur- 
 prised the family; but they were all delighted at 
 seeing- me again, and except my brother wel- 
 comed me home. I went to him at the printing- 
 
46 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 house. I was hotter dressed than I had ever 
 been while in his service: I had a complete suit 
 of clothes, new and neat, a watch in my pocket, 
 and my purse was furnished with nearly five 
 pounds sterling in money. He gave me no very 
 civil reception; and, having eyed me from head 
 to foot, resumed his work. 
 
 The workmen asked me with eagerness where 
 I had been, what sort of a country it was, and 
 how I liked it. I spoke in the highest terms of 
 Philadelphia, the happy life we led there, and 
 expressed my intention of going back again. 
 One of them asking what sort of money we had, 
 I displayed before them a handful of silver, which 
 I drew from my pocket. This was a curiosity 
 to which they were not accustomed, paper being 
 the current money at Boston. I failed not after 
 this to let them see my watch; and, at last, my 
 brother continuing sullen and out of humor, I 
 gave them a shilling to drink, and took my leave. 
 This visit stung my brother to the soul; for when, 
 shortly after, my mother spoke to him of a re- 
 conciliation, and a desire to see us upon good 
 terms, he told her that I had so insulted him be- 
 fore his men, that he would never forget or for- 
 give it: in this, however, he was mistaken. 
 
 The Governor's letter appeared to excite in 
 my father some surprise; but he said little. Af- 
 ter some days, Captain Holmes being returned, 
 he showed it him, asking him if he knew Keith, 
 and what sort of a man he was: adding, that, in 
 his opinion, yit proved very little discernment to 
 think of setting up a boy in business, who, for 
 three years to come, would not be of an age to 
 be ranked in the class of men. Holmes said 
 every thing he could in favor of the scheme; but 
 my father firmly maintained its absurdity, and 
 at last gave a positive refusal. He wrote, how 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 47 
 
 ever a civil letter to Sir William, thanking him 
 for the protection he had so obligingly offered 
 me, but refusing to assist me for the present, 
 because he thought me too young to be intrusted 
 with the conduct of so important an enterprise, 
 and which would require so considerable a sum 
 of money. 
 
 My old comrade, Collins, who was a clerk in 
 the post-office, charmed' with the account I gave 
 of my new residence, expressed a desire of going 
 thither; and, while I waited my father's deter- 
 mination, he set off before me by land for Rhode 
 Island, leaving his books, which formed a hand- 
 some collection in mathematics and natural phi- 
 losophy, to be conveyed with mine to New York, 
 where he proposed to wait for me. 
 
 My father, though he could not approve Sir 
 William's proposal, was yet pleased that I had 
 obtained so advantageous a recommendation as 
 that of a person of his rank, and that my industry 
 and economy had enabled me to equip myself so 
 handsomely in so short a period. Seeing no ap- 
 pearance of accommodating matters between 
 my brother and me, he consented to my return 
 to Philadelphia, advised me to be civil to every 
 body, to endeavor to obtain general esteem, and 
 avoid satire and sarcasm, to which he thought I 
 was too much inclined; adding, that with perse- 
 verance and prudent economy, I might, by the 
 time I became of age, save enough to establish 
 myself in business; and that if a small sum should 
 then be wanting, he would undertake to supply it. 
 
 This was all I could obtain from him, except 
 some trifling presents, in token, of friendship 
 from him and my mother. I embarked once 
 more for New York, furnished at this time with 
 their approbation and blessing. The sloop ha- 
 ving touched at Newport, in Rhode Island, I 
 
48 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 paid a visit to my brother John, who had for 
 some years been settled there, and was married. 
 He had always been attached to me, and ha re- 
 ceived me with great affection. One of his 
 friends, whose name was Vernon, having a debt 
 of about thirty-six pounds due to him in Penn- 
 sylvania, begged me to receive it for him, and 
 to keep the money till I should hear from him : 
 accordingly he gave me an order for that pur- 
 pose. This affair occasioned me, in the sequel, 
 much uneasiness. 
 
 At Newport we took on board a 1 number of 
 passengers; among whom were two young women, 
 and a grave and sensible Quaker lady with her 
 servants. I had shown an obliging forwardness 
 in rendering the Quaker some trilling services, 
 which led her, probably, to feel an interest in 
 my welfare; for when she saw a familiarity take- 
 place, and every day increase, between the two 
 young women and me, she took me aside, and said, 
 "Young man, I am in pain for thee. Thou hast 
 no parent to watch over thy conduct, and thou 
 seemest to be ignorant of the world, and the 
 snares to which youth is exposed. Rely upon 
 what I tell thee : those are women of bad char- 
 acters; I perceive it in all their actions. If thou 
 dost not take care, they will lead thee into dan- 
 ger. They are strangers to thee, and I advise 
 thee, by the friendly interest I take in thy pres- 
 ervation, to form no connection with them." 
 As I appeared at first not to think quite so ill of 
 them as she did, she related many things she had 
 seen and heard, which had escaped my attention, 
 but which convinced me that she was in the 
 right. I thanked her for her obliging advice, 
 and promised to follow it. 
 
 When we arrived at New York, they inform- 
 ed me where they lodged, and invited me to 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 49 
 
 come and see them. I did not however go, and 
 it was well I did not; for^the next day, the Cap- 
 tain missing a silver spoon and some other things 
 which had been taken from the cabin, and know- 
 ing these women to be prostitutes, procured a" 
 search-warrant, found the stolen' goods upon 
 them, and had them punished. And thus, after 
 having been saved from one rock concealed 
 under water, upon which the vessel struck dur- 
 ing our passage, I escaped another of a still 
 more dangerous nature. 
 
 At New York I found my friend Collins, who 
 had arrived some time before. We had been in- 
 timate from our infancy, and had read the same 
 books together; but he had the advantage of be- 
 ing able to devote more time to reading and 
 study, and an astonishing disposition for mathe- 
 matics, in which he left me far behind him. 
 When at Boston, I had been accustomed to pass 
 with him almost all my leisure hours. He was 
 then a sober and industrious lad; his knowledge 
 had gained him a very general esteem, and he 
 seemed to promise to make an advantageous figure 
 in society. But, during my absence, he had un- 
 fortunately addicted himself to brandy, and I 
 learned, as well from himself as from the report 
 of others that every day since' his arrival at New 
 York he had been intoxicated, and had acted in 
 a very extravagant manner. He had also played 
 and lost all his money; so that I was obliged to 
 pay his expenses at the inn, and to maintain him 
 during the rest of his journey; a burthen that 
 was very inconvenient to me. 
 
 The Governor of New York, whose name was 
 Bernet, hearing the Captain say, that a young 
 man who was a passenger in his ship had a great 
 number of books, begged him to bring me to his 
 house. I accordingly went, and should have 
 5 C 
 
50 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 taken Collins with me, had he been sober. The 
 Go/ernor treated me with great civility, showed 
 me his library, which was a very considerable 
 one, and we talked for some time upon books 
 and authors. This was the second Governor who 
 had honored me with his attention; and, to a 
 poor boy, as I was then, these little adventures 
 did not fail to be pleasing'. 
 
 We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I 
 received Vernon's money, without which we 
 should have been unable to have finished our 
 journey. 
 
 Collins wished to get employment as a mer- 
 chant's clerk; but either his breath or his coun- 
 tenance betrayed his bad habit; for, though he 
 had recommendations, he met with no success, 
 and continued to lodge and eat with rne, and at 
 my expense. Knowing that I had Vernon's 
 money, he was continually asking me to lend 
 him some of it; promising to repay me as soon as 
 he should get employment. At last he had drawn 
 so much of this money, that I was extremely 
 alarmed at what might become of me, should he 
 fail to make good the deficiency. His habit of 
 drinking did not at all diminish, and was a fre- 
 quent source of discord between us; for when 
 he had drunk a little too much, he was very 
 headstrong. 
 
 Being one day in a boat together, on the Del- 
 aware, with some other young persons, he refus- 
 ed to take his turn in rowing. "You shall row 
 for me, " said he, " till we get home. " — " No, " 
 I replied, "we will not row for you." — "You 
 shall," said he, "or remain upon the water all 
 night." — "As you please." Let us row, said 
 the rest of the company; what signifies whether 
 he assists or not. But, already angry with him 
 for his conduct in other respects, I persisted in 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 51 
 
 my refusal. He then swore that he would make 
 me row, or would throw me out of the boat; and 
 he made up to me. As soon as he was within 
 my reach, I took him by the collar, gave him a 
 violent thrust, and threw him headforemost into 
 the river. I knew that he was a good swimmer, 
 and was therefore under no apprehensions for his 
 life. Before he could turn himself, we were 
 able, by a few strokes of our oars, to place our- 
 selves out of his reach; and, whenever he touch- 
 ed the boat, we asked him if he would row, 
 striking his hands at the same time with the oars 
 to make him let go his hold. He was nearly suf- 
 focated with rage, but obstinately refused: mak- 
 ing any promise to row. Perceiving, at length, 
 that his strength began to be exhausted, we took 
 him into the boat, and conveyed him home in 
 the evening completely drenched. The utmost 
 coldness subsisted between us after this adven- 
 ture. At last the Captain of a West-India ship, 
 who was commissioned to procure a tutor for the 
 children of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meeting 
 with Collins, offered him the place. He accept- 
 ed it, and took his leave of me, promising to dis- 
 charge the debt he owed me with the first money 
 he should receive; but I have heard nothing of 
 him since. 
 
 The violation of the trust reposed in me by 
 Vernon was one of the firs£ great errors of my 
 life; and it proves that my father was not mis- 
 taken when he supposed me too young to be in- 
 trusted with the management of important affairs. 
 But Sir William, upon reading his letter, thought 
 him too prudent. There was a difference, he 
 said, between individuals: years of maturity 
 were not always accompanied with discretion, 
 neither was youth in every instance devoid of 
 it. "Since your father, " added he, " will not 
 
52 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 set you np in business, I will do it myself. Make 
 out a list of what will be wanted from England, 
 and I will send for the articles. You shall repay 
 me when you can. I am determined to have a 
 good printer here, and I am sure you Avill suc- 
 ceed." This was said with so much seeming cor- 
 diality, that I suspected not for an instant the 
 sincerity of the offer. I had hitherto kept the 
 project, with which Sir William had inspired me, 
 of settling in business, a secret at Philadelphia, 
 and I still continued to do so. Had my reliance 
 on the Governor been known, some friend, better 
 acquainted with his character than myself, would 
 doubtless have advised me not to trust him; for I 
 afterwards learned that he was universally 
 known to be liberal of promises, when he had no 
 intention to perform. But having never solicited 
 him, how could I suppose his oilers to be deceit- 
 ful? On the contrary, I believed him to be the 
 best man in the world. 
 
 I gave him an inventory of a small printing- 
 office; the expense of which I had calculated at 
 about a hundred pounds sterling. He expressed 
 his approbation; but asked, if my presence in 
 England, that I might choose the characters my- 
 self, and see that every article was good in its 
 kind, would not be an advantage! "You will 
 also be able," said he, " to form some acquaint- 
 ance there, and establish a correspondence with 
 stationers and booksellers." This I acknowl- 
 edged was desirable. "That being the case," 
 added he, "hold yourself in readiness to go with 
 the Annis." This was the annual vessel, and 
 the only one, at that time, which made regular 
 voyages between the ports of London and Phila- 
 delphia. But the Annis was not to sail for some 
 months. I therefore continued to work with 
 Keimer, unhappy respecting the sum which Col- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 53 
 
 lins had drawn from me, and almost in continu- 
 al agony at the thoughts of Vernon, who fortu- 
 nately made no demand of his money till several 
 years after. 
 
 In the account of my first voyage from Boston 
 to Philadelphia, I omitted, I believe, a trifling 
 circumstance, which will not, perhaps, be out 
 of place here. During a calm, which stopped us 
 above Block Island, the crew employed them- 
 selves in fishing for cod, of which they caught a 
 great number. I had hitherto adhered to my re- 
 solution of not eating any thing that had possess- 
 ed life; and 1 considered, on this occasion, agree- 
 ably to Vne maxims of my master Tyron, the 
 capture of every fish as a sort of murder, com- 
 mitted without provocation, since these animals 
 had neither done, nor were capable of doing, the 
 smallest injury to any one that should justify the 
 measure. This mode of reasoning I conceived 
 to be unanswerable. Meanwhile, I had former- 
 ly been extremely fond of fish; and, when one of 
 these cod was taken out of the fryingpan, thought 
 its flavor delicious. I hesitated some time between 
 principle and inclination, till at last recollecting, 
 that when the cod had been opened some small fish 
 were found in its belly, I said to myself, if you eat 
 one another, I see no reason why we may not eat 
 you. I accordingly dined on the cod with no small 
 degree of pleasure, and have since continued to 
 eat like the rest of mankind, returning only occa- 
 sionally to my vegetable plan. How convenient 
 does it prove to be a rational animal, that knows 
 how to find or invent a plausible pretext for what- 
 ever it has an inclination to do. 
 
 I continued to live upon good terms with 
 
 Keimer, who had not the smallest suspicion of 
 
 my projected establishment. He still retained a 
 
 portion of his former enthusiasm; and, being 
 
 5* 
 
54 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 fond of argument, we frequently disputed togeth- 
 er. I was so much in the habit of using my 
 Socratic method, and had so frequently puzzled 
 him by my questions, which appeared at first 
 very distant from the point in debate, yet, never- 
 theless, led to it by degrees, involving him in 
 difficulties and contradictions from which he was 
 unable to extricate himself, that he became at 
 last ridiculously cautious, and would scarcely an- 
 swer the most plain and familiar question without 
 previously asking me— -What would you infer 
 from that? Hence he formed so high an opinion 
 of my talents^ for refutation, that he seriously 
 proposed to me to become his colleague in the es- 
 tablishment of a new religious sect. He was to 
 propagate the doctrine by preaching, and I to 
 refute every opponent. 
 
 When he explained to me his tenets, I found 
 many absurdities which I refused to admit, un- 
 less he would agree in turn to adopt some of my 
 opinions. Keimer wore his beard long, because 
 Moses had somewhere said, " Thou shalt not mar 
 the corners of thy beard." He likewise observ- 
 ed the Sabbath; and these were with him two 
 very essential points. I disliked them both: 
 but I consented to adopt them, provided he 
 would agree to abstain from animal food. tf I 
 doubt," said he, "whether my constitution will 
 be able to support it." I assured him on the 
 contrary, that he would find himself the better 
 for it. He was naturally a glutton, and I wished 
 to amuse myself by starving him. He consented 
 to make trial of this regimen, if I would bear 
 him company; and, in reality, we continued it 
 for three months. A woman in the neighbor- 
 hood prepared and brought us our victuals, to 
 whom I gave a list of forty dishes; in the compo- 
 sition of which there entered neither flesh nor 
 
. - LIFE OF FRANKLIN. - 55 
 
 fish. This fancy was the more agreeable to me, 
 as it turned to good account; for the whole ex- 
 pense of our living did not exceed for each 
 eighteen^pence a week. 
 
 I have since that period observed several Lents 
 with the greatest strictness, and have suddenly- 
 returned again to my ordinary diet, without ex- 
 periencing the smallest inconvenience; which 
 has led me to regard as of no importance the ad- 
 vice commonly given, of introducing gradually 
 such alterations of regimen. 
 
 I continued it cheerfully; but poor Keimer 
 suffered terribly. Tired of the project, he sighed 
 for the flesh pots of Egypt. At length he ordered 
 a roast pig, and invited me and two of our female 
 acquaintance "to dine with him; but the pig be- 
 ing ready a little too soon, he could not resist 
 the temptation, and ate it all up before we 
 arrived. 
 
 During the circumstances I have related, I 
 had paid some attentions to Miss Read. I enter- 
 tained for her the utmost esteem and affection; 
 and I had reason to believe that these sentiments 
 were mutual. But v/e were both young, scarcely 
 more than eighteen years of age; and, as I was 
 on the point of undertaking a long voyage, her 
 mother thought it prudent to prevent matters 
 being carried too far for the present, judging 
 that, if marriage was our object, there would be 
 more propriety in it after my return, when, as 
 at least I expected, I should be established in 
 my business. Perhaps also she thought that my 
 expectations were not so well founded as I 
 imagined. 
 
 My most intimate acquaintance at this time 
 were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and 
 James Ralph; young men who were all fond of 
 reading. The two first were clerks to Mr. 
 
56 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Charles Brockdon, one of the principal attor- 
 neys in the town, and the other clerk to a mer* 
 chant. Watson was an upright, pious, and sensi- 
 ble young' man; the others were somewhat more 
 loose in their principles of religion, particularly 
 Ralph, whose faith, as well as that of Collins, I 
 had contributed to shake; each of whom made 
 me suffer a very adequate punishment. Osborne 
 was sensible, and sincere and affectionate in his 
 friendships, but too much inclined to the critic 
 in matters of literature. Ralph was ingenuous 
 and shrewd, genteel in his address, and ex- 
 tremely eloquent. I do not remember to have 
 met with a more agreeable speaker. They were 
 both enamoured of the Muses, and had already 
 evinced their passion by some small poetical 
 productions. 
 
 It was a custom with us to take a charming 
 walk on Sundays, in the woods that border the 
 Schuylkill. Here we read together, and after- 
 wards conversed on what we read. Ralph was 
 disposed to give himself up entirely to poetry. 
 He flattered himself that he should "arrive at 
 great eminence in the art, and even acquire a 
 fortune. The sublimest poets, he pretended, 
 when they first began to write, committed as 
 many faults as himself. Osborne endeavored 
 to dissuade him, by assuring him that he had no 
 genius for poetry, and advised him to stick to the 
 trade in which he had been brought up. "In 
 the road of commerce," said he, "you will be 
 sure, by diligence and assiduity, though you have 
 no capital, of so far succeeding as to be employed 
 as a factor; and may thus, in time, acquire the 
 means of setting up for yourself." I concurred in 
 these sentiments, but at the same time expressed 
 my approbation of amusing ourselves sometimes 
 with poetry, with a view to improve our style 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 57 
 
 In consequence of this it was proposed, that, at 
 our next meeting, each of us should bring a 
 copy of verses of his own composition. Our ob- 
 ject in this competition was to benefit each 
 other by our mutual remarks, criticisms, and 
 corrections ; and as style and expression were 
 all we had in view, we' excluded every^ idea of 
 invention, by agreeing that our task should be 
 a version of the eighteenth Psalm, in which is 
 described the descent of the Deity. 
 
 The time of our meeting drew near, when 
 Ralph called upon me, and told me that his per- 
 formance was ready. I informed him that I had 
 been idle, and, not much liking the task, had 
 done nothing. He showed me his piece, and 
 asked me what I thought of it. I expressed my- 
 self in terms of warm approbation ; because it 
 really appeared to have considerable merit. — 
 He then said, " Osborne will never acknowledge 
 the smallest degree of excellence in any produc- 
 tion of mine. Envy alone dictates to him a 
 thousand animadversions. Of you he is not so 
 jealous: I wish, therefore, you would take the 
 verses, and produce them as your own. I will 
 pretend not to have had leisure to write any 
 thing. We shall then see in what manner he 
 will speak of them. I agreed to this little arti- 
 fice, and immediately transcribed the verses to 
 prevent all suspicion. 
 
 We met. Watson's performance was the first 
 that was read. It had some beauties, but many 
 faults. We next read Osborne's, which was 
 much better. Ralph did it justice, remarking a 
 few imperfections, and applauding such parts as 
 were excellent. He had himself nothing to show. 
 It was now my turn. I made some difficulty ; 
 seemed as if I wished to be excused ; pretended 
 that I had no time to make corrections, &c. 
 c2 
 
58 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 No excuse, however, was admissible, and the 
 piece must be produced. It was read and re- 
 read. Watson and Osborne immediately re- 
 signed the, palm, and united in applauding it. 
 Ralph alone made a few remarks, and proposed 
 some alterations; but I defended my text. Os- 
 borne agreed with me, and told Ralph that he 
 was no more able to criticise than he was able 
 to write. 
 
 When Osborne was alone with me, he express- 
 ed himself still more strongly in favor of what 
 he considered as my performance. He pretended 
 that he had put some restraint on himself before, 
 apprehensive of my construing his commenda- 
 tions into flattery. "But who would have sup- 
 posed," said he, " Frankliu to be capable of 
 such a composition! What painting, what en- 
 ergy, what tire! He has surpassed the original. 
 In his common conversation he appears not to 
 have a choice of words; he hesitates, and ie at a 
 loss: and yet, good God, how he writes! " 
 
 At our next meeting Ralph discovered the 
 trick we had played. Osborne, who was rallied 
 without mercy. 
 
 By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his reso- 
 lution of becoming a poet: I left nothing unat- 
 tempted to divert him from his purpose, but he 
 persevered, till at last the reading of Pope* ef- 
 fected his cure: he became, however, a very 
 tolerable prose writer. I shall speak more of 
 him hereafter; but as I shall probably have no 
 farther occasion to mention the other two, I 
 ought to observe here, that Watson died a few 
 years after in my arms. He was greatly regret- 
 
 * Probably the Dunciad, where we find him thus immor- 
 talized by the author: 
 
 Silence, ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls 
 And makes night hideous; answer him, ye owls! 
 
, LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 59 
 
 ted; for he was the best of our society. Osborne 
 went to the islands, where he gained considera- 
 ble reputation as a barrister, and was getting" 
 money; but he died young. We had seriously 
 engaged, that whoever died first should return 
 if possible and pay a friendly visit to the survivor, 
 to give him an account of the other world ; but 
 he has never fulfilled his engagement. 
 
 The Governor appeared to be fond of my com- 
 pany, and frequently invited me to his house. 
 He always spoke of his intention of settling me 
 in business as a point that was decided. I was 
 to take with me letters of recommendation to a 
 number of his friends; and particularly a letter 
 of credit, in order to obtain the necessary sum 
 for the purchase of my press, types, and paper. 
 He appointed various times for me to come for 
 these letters, which would certainly be ready; 
 and, when I came, always put me off to another 
 day. 
 
 These successive delays continued till the ves- 
 sel, whose departure had been several times de- 
 ferred, was on the point of setting sail; when I 
 again went to Sir William's house, to receive 
 my letters and take leave of him. I saw his Sec- 
 retary, Dr. Bard, who told me, that the Governor 
 was extremely busy writing, but that he would 
 be down at Newcastle before the vessel, and 
 that the letters would be delivered to me there. 
 
 Ralph, though he was married and had a child, 
 determined to accompany me in this voyage. — 
 His object was supposed to be the establishing 
 a correspondence with some mercantile houses, 
 in order to sell goods by commission; but I af- 
 terwards learned that, having reason to be dis- 
 satisfied with the parents of his wife, he proposed 
 to himself to leave her on their hands, and 
 never return to America again. 
 
GO LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Having taken leave of my friends, and inter- 
 changed promises of fidelity with Miss Read, I 
 quitted Philadelphia. At Newcastle the vessel 
 came to anchor. The Governor was arrived, 
 and I went to his lodgings. His Secretary re- 
 ceived me with great civility, told me, on the 
 part of the Governor, that he could not see me 
 then, as he was engaged in affairs of the utmost 
 importance, but that he would send the letters 
 on board, and that he wished me, with all his 
 heart, a good voyage and speedy return. I re- 
 turned, somewhat astonished, to the ship, but 
 still without entertaining the slighest suspicion. 
 
 Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of Phila- 
 delphia, had taken a passage to England for him- 
 self and his son, and, in conjunction with Mr. 
 Denham, a Quaker, and Messrs. Oniam and Rus- 
 sel, proprietors of a forge in Maryland, had 
 agreed for the whole cabin, so that Ralph and I 
 were obliged to take up our lodging with the 
 crew. Being unknown to every body in the 
 ship, we were looked upon as of the common 
 order of people : but Mr. Hamilton and his son 
 (it was James, who was afterwards Governoi) left 
 us at Newcastle, # and returned to Philadelphia, 
 where he was recalled at a very great expense, 
 to plead the canise of a vessel that had been 
 seized; and just as we were about to sail, Colo- 
 nel French came on board, and showed me 
 many civilities. The passengers upon this paid 
 me more attention, and I was invited, together 
 with my friend Ralph, to occupy the place in the 
 cabin which the return of the Mr. Hatniltons had 
 made vacant; an offer which we very readily 
 accepted. 
 
 Having learned that the despatches of the 
 Governor had been brought on board by Colonel 
 French, I asked the captain for the letters that 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 61 
 
 were to be entrusted to my care. He told me 
 that they were all put together in the bag, which 
 he could not open at present ; but before we 
 reached England, he would give me an opportu- 
 nity of taking them out. I was satisfied with 
 this answer, and we pursued our voyage. 
 
 The company in the cabin were all very so- 
 ciable, and we were perfectly well off as to pro- 
 visions, as we had the advantage of the whole of 
 Mr. Hamilton's, who had laid in a very plentiful 
 stock. During the passage, Mr. Denham con- 
 tracted a friendship for me, which ended only 
 with his life : in other respects the voyage was 
 by no means an agreeable one, as we had much 
 bad weather. 
 
 When we arrived in the river, the Captain was 
 as good as his word, and allowed me to search 
 in the bag for the Governor's letters. I could 
 not find a single one with my name written on 
 it, as committed to my care ; but I selected six 
 or seven, which I judged from the direction to 
 be those that were intended for me ; particularly 
 one to Mr. Basket, the King's printer, and an- 
 other to a stationer, who was the first person I 
 called upon. I delivered him the letter as com- 
 ing from Governor Keith. " I have no acquain- 
 tance," said he, "with any such person;" and, 
 opening the letter, " Oh, it is from Riddles- 
 den!" he exclaimed. "I have lately discovered 
 him to be a very arrant knave, and wish to have 
 nothing to do either with him or his letters." 
 He instantly put the letter into my hand, turned 
 upon his heel and left me, to serve some cus- 
 tomers. 
 
 I was astonished at finding those letters were 
 
 not from the Governor. Reflecting,* and putting 
 
 circumstances together, I then began to doubt 
 
 his sincerity. I rejoined my friend Denham, and 
 
 6 
 
62 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 related the whole affair to him. He let me at 
 once into Keith's character, told me there was 
 rio-t the least probability of his having written a 
 single letter; that no one who knew him ever 
 placed any reliance on him, and laughed at my 
 credulity in supposing, that the Governor would 
 give me a letter of credit, when he had no credit 
 for himself. As I showed some uneasiness re- 
 specting what step I should take, he advised me 
 to try to get employment in the house of some 
 printer. "You may there," said he, "improve 
 yourself in business, and you will be able to set- 
 tle yourself the more advantageously when you 
 return to America." 
 
 We knew already as well as the stationer, at- 
 torney Riddlesden to be a knave. lie had near- 
 ly ruined the father of Miss Read, by drawing 
 him in to be his security. We learned from his 
 letter, that he was secretly carrying on an in- 
 trigue, in concert with the Governor, to the 
 prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, who, it was supposed, 
 would by this time be in Europe. Denharn, who 
 was Hamilton's friend, was of opinion that he 
 ought to be made acquainted with it; and, in 
 reality, the instant he arrived in England, which 
 was very soon after, I waited on him, and, as 
 much from good-will to him, as from resentment 
 against the Governor, put the letter into his 
 hands. He thanked me very sincerely, the in- 
 formation it contained being of consequence to 
 him; and from that moment bestowed on me his 
 friendship, which afterwards proved, on many 
 occasions, serviceable to me. 
 
 But what are we to think of a Governor who 
 could play so scurvy a trick, and thus grossly 
 deceive a poor young lad, wholly destitute of 
 experience'? It was a practice with him. Wish- 
 ing to please every body, and having little to 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 63 
 
 bestow, he was lavish of promises. He was, in 
 other respects, sensible and judicious, a very 
 tolerable writer, and a good Governor for the 
 people ; though not so for the Proprietaires, 
 whose instructions he frequently disregarded. 
 Many of our best laws were his work, and es- 
 tablished during his administration. 
 
 Ralph and I were inseparable companions. 
 We took a lodging together at three and six- 
 pence a week, which was as much as we could 
 afford. He met with some relations in London, 
 but they were poor, and not able to assist him. 
 He now, for the first time, informed me of his 
 intention to remain in England, and that he had 
 no thoughts of ever returning to Philadelphia. 
 He was totally without money ; the little he had 
 been able to raise having barely sufficed for his 
 passage. I had still fifteen pistoles remaining; 
 and to me he had from time to time recourse, 
 while he tried to get employment. 
 
 At first believing himself possessed of talents 
 for the stage, he thought of turning actor; but 
 Wilkes, to whom he applied, frankly advised him 
 to renounce the idea, as it was impossible he 
 •should succeed. He next proposed to Roberts, 
 a bookseller in Paternoster Row, to write a 
 weekly paper in the manner of the Spectator, 
 upon terms to which Roberts would not listen. 
 Lastly, he endeavored to procure employment as 
 a copyist, and applied to the lawyers and sta- 
 tioners about the Temple, but could find no 
 vacancy. 
 
 As to myself, I immediately got engaged at 
 Palmer's, at that time a noted printer in Bar- 
 tholomewclose, with whom I continued nearly a 
 year. 1 applied very assiduously to my work; 
 but I expended with Ralph almost all that I 
 earned. Plays and other places of amusement 
 
€4 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 which we frequented together having exhausted 
 my pistoles, we lived after this from hand to 
 mouth. He appeared to have entirely forgotten 
 his wife and child, as I also, by degrees, forgot 
 my engagements with Miss Read, to whom I 
 never wrote more than one letter, and that mere- 
 ly to inform her that I was not likely to return 
 soon. This was another grand error of my life, 
 which I should be desirous of correcting were I 
 to begin my career again. 
 
 I was employed at Palmer's on the second edi- 
 tion of Woolaston's Religion of Nature. Some 
 of his arguments appearing to me not to be well 
 founded, I wrote a small metaphysical treatise, 
 in which I animadverted on those passages. It 
 was entitled a " Dissertation on Liberty and 
 Necessity, Pleasure and Pain." I dedicated it 
 to my friend Ralph, and printed a small number 
 of copies. Palmer upon this treated me with 
 more consideration, and regarded me as a young 
 man of talents; though he seriously took me to 
 task for the principles of my pamphlet, which he 
 looked upon as abominable. The printing of 
 this work was another error of my life. 
 
 While I lodged in Little Britain I formed an 
 acquaintance with a bookseller of the name of 
 Wilcox, whose shop was next door to me. Cir- 
 culating libraries were not then in use. He had 
 an immense collection of books of all sorts. We 
 agreed that, for a reasonable retribution, of 
 which I have now forgotten the price, I should 
 have free access to his library, and take what 
 books I pleased, which I was to return when I 
 had read them. I considered this agreement as 
 a very great advantage ; and I derived from it 
 as much benefit as was in my power. 
 
 My pamphlet falling into the hands of a sur- 
 geon, of the name of Lyons, author of a book 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 65 
 
 entitled, "Infallibility of Human Judgment," 
 was the occasion of a considerable intimacy be- 
 tween us. He expressed great esteem for me, 
 came frequently to see me, in order to converse 
 upon metaphysical subjects, and introduced me 
 to Dr. Mandeville, author of the Fable of the 
 Bees, who had instituted a club at a tavern in 
 Cheapside, of which he was the soul: he was a 
 facetious and very amusing- character. He also 
 introduced me, at Batson's coffee-house, to Dr, 
 Pemberton, who promised to give me ^n oppor- 
 tunity of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, which I very 
 ardently desired; but he never kept his word. 
 
 I had brought some curiosities with me from 
 America; the principal of which was a purse 
 made of the asbestos, which fire only purifies. 
 Sir Hans Sloane, hearing of it, called upon me, 
 and invited me to his house in Bloomsbury 
 Square, where, after showing me every thing 
 that was curious, he prevailed on me to add this 
 piece to his collection; for which he paid me 
 very handsomely. 
 
 There lodged in the same house with us a 
 young woman, a milliner, who had a shop by the 
 side of the Exchange. Lively and sensible, and 
 having received an education somewhat above 
 her rank, her conversation was very agreeable. 
 Ralph read plays to her every evening. They 
 became intimate. She took another lodging, and 
 he followed her. They lived for some time to- 
 gether; but Ralph being without employment, she 
 having a child, and the profits of her business not 
 sufficing for the maintenance of three, he resolv- 
 ed to quit London, and try a country school 
 This was a plan in which he thought himself 
 likely to succeed; as he wrote a fine hand, and 
 was versed in arithmetic and accounts. But con 
 siderin<r the office as beneath him, and expecting- 
 6* 
 
66 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 some day to make a better figure in the world, 
 when he should be ashamed of its being known 
 that he had exercised a profession so little hon- 
 orable, he changed his name, and did me the 
 honor of assuming mine. He wrote to me soon 
 after his departure, informing me that he was 
 settled at a small village in Berkshire. In hi3 
 letter he recommended Mrs. T. the milliner, to 
 my care, and requested an answer, directed to 
 Mr. Franklin, school-master at N***. 
 
 He continued to write to me frequently, send- 
 ing me large fragments of an epic poem he was 
 composing, and which he requested me to criti- 
 cise and correct. I did so, but not without en- 
 deavoring to prevail on him to renounce this 
 pursuit. Young had just published one of his 
 Satires. I copied and sent him a great part of 
 it; in which the author demonstrates the folly of 
 cultivating the Muses, from the hope, by their 
 instrumentality, of rising in the world. It was 
 all to no purpose; paper after paper of his poem 
 continued to arrive every post. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. T*** having lost, on his ac- 
 count, both her friends and business, was fre- 
 quently in distress. In this dilemma she had re- 
 course to me, and, to extricate her from her dif- 
 ficulties, I lent her all the money I could spare. 
 I felt a little too much fondness for her. Having 
 at that time no ties of religion, and, taking ad- 
 vantage of her necessitous situation, I attempt- 
 ed liberties (another error of my life,) which she 
 repelled with becoming indignation. She inform- 
 ed Ralph of my conduct; and the affair occasion- 
 ed a breach between us. When he returned to 
 London, he gave me to understand that he con- 
 sidered all the obligations he owed me as anni- 
 hilated by this proceeding; whence I concluded 
 that I was never to expect the payment of what 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. €7 
 
 money I had lent him, or advanced on his ac- 
 count. I was the less afflicted at this, as he was 
 wholly unable to pay me; and as, by losing his 
 friendship, I was relieved at the same time from 
 a very heavy burden. 
 
 I now began to think of laying by some money. 
 The printing-house of Watts, near Lincoln's- 
 inn-fields, being a still more considerable one 
 than that in which I worked, it was probable I 
 might find it more advantageous to be employed 
 there. I offered myself, and was accepted; and 
 in this house I continued during the remainder 
 of my stay in London. 
 
 On my entrance I worked at first as a press- 
 man, conceiving that I had need of bodily exer- 
 cise, to which I had been accustomed in Amer- 
 ica, where the printers work alternately as com- 
 positors and at the press. I drank nothing but 
 water. The- other workmen, to the number of 
 about fifty, were great drinkers of beer. I car- 
 ried occasionally a large form of letters in each 
 hand, up and down stairs, while the rest em- 
 ployed both hands to carry one. They were sur- 
 prised to see, by this and many other examples, 
 that the American Aquatic, as they used to call 
 me, was stronger than those who drank, porter. 
 The beer boy had sufficient employment during 
 the whole day in serving that house alone. My 
 fellow pressman drank every day a pint of beer 
 before breakfast, a pint with bread and cheese 
 for breakfast, one between breakfast and dinner, 
 one at dinner, one again about six o'clock in the 
 afternoon, and another after he had finished his 
 day's work. This custom appeared to me abom- 
 inable; but he had need, he said, of all this beer, 
 in order to acquire strength to work. 
 
 I endeavored to convince him that the bodily 
 strength furnished by the beer, could only be in 
 
69 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 proportion to the solid part of the barley dissolv- 
 ed in the water of which the beer was composed; 
 that there was a larger portion of flour in a pen- 
 ny loaf, and that consequently, if he ate this loaf 
 and drank a pint of water with it, he would de- 
 rive more strength from it than from a pint of 
 beer. This reasoning, however, did not prevent 
 him from drinking his accustomed quantity of 
 beer, and paying every Saturday night a score of 
 four or five shillings a week for this cursed bev- 
 erage; an expense from which I was wholly ex- 
 empt. Thus do these poor devils continue all 
 their lives in a state of voluntary wretchedness 
 and poverty. 
 
 At the end of a few weeks, Watts, having oc- 
 casion for me above stairs as a compositor, I 
 quitted the press. The compositors demanded 
 of me garnish-money afresb. This I considered 
 as an imposition, having already paid below. The 
 master was of the same opinion, and desired me 
 not to comply. I thus remained two or three 
 weeks out of the fraternity. I was consequent- 
 ly looked upon as excommunicated; and when- 
 ever I was absent, no little trick that malice 
 could suggest was left unpractised upon me. I 
 found my letters mixed, my pages transposed, my 
 matter broken, &c. &c. all which was attribut- 
 ed to the spirit that haunted the chapel,* and 
 tormented those that were not regularly admit- 
 ted. I was at last obliged to submit to pay, not- 
 withstanding the protection of the master; con- 
 vinced of the folly of not keeping up a good un- 
 derstanding with those among whom Ave are des- 
 tined to live. 
 
 After this I lived in the utmost harmony with 
 
 * Printing-houses in general are thus denominated by 
 tha workmen : the spirit they call by the name of Ralph. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. (59 
 
 my fellow laborers, and soon acquired consider- 
 able influence among them. I proposed some al- 
 teration in the laws of the chapel, which I car- 
 ried without opposition. My example prevailed 
 with several of them to renounce their abomina- 
 ble practice of bread and cheese with beer; and 
 they procured, like me, from a neighboring 
 house, a good basin of warm gruel, in which was 
 a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and 
 nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, 
 which did not cost more than a pint of beer, 
 namely, three-halfpence, and at the same time 
 preserved the head clearer. Those who contin- 
 ued to gorge themselves with beer, often lost 
 their credit with the publican, from neglecting 
 to pay their score. They had then recourse to 
 me, to become security for them; their lights as 
 they used, to call it, being out. I attended at 
 the pay-table every Saturday evening, to take 
 up the little sum which I had made myself an- 
 swerable for, and which sometimes amounted to 
 nearly thirty shillings a week. 
 
 This circumstance added to my reputation of 
 being a tolerable good gabber, or, in other 
 words, skilful in the art of burlesque, kept up 
 my importance in the chapel. I had besides re- 
 commended myself to the esteem of my master 
 by my assiduous application to business, never 
 observing Saint Monday. My extraordinary 
 quickness in composing always procured me such 
 work as was most urgent, and which is common- 
 ly best paid; and thus my time passed away in a 
 very pleasant manner. 
 
 My lodging in Little Britain being too far from 
 the printing-house, I took another in Duke 
 Street, opposite the Roman Catholic chapel. It 
 was at the back of an Italian warehouse. The 
 house was kept by a widow, who had a daughter, 
 
70 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 a servant, and a shop-boy; but the latter slept, 
 out of the house. After sending to the people 
 with whom I lodged in Little Britain, to inquire 
 into my character, she agreed to take me in at 
 the same price, tiiree and sixpence a week; con- 
 tenting herself, she said, with so little, because 
 of the security she should derive, as they were 
 all women, from having a man lodger in the 
 house. 
 
 She was a woman rather advanced in life, the 
 daughter of a clergyman. She had been educat- 
 ed a Protestant; but her husband, whose memory 
 she highly revered, had converted her to the 
 Catholic religion. She had lived in habits of in- 
 timacy with persons of distinction; of whom she 
 knew various anecdotes as far back as the time 
 of Charles II. Being subject to fits of the gout, 
 which often confined her to her room, she was 
 sometimes disposed to see company. Hers was 
 so amusing to me, that I was glad to pass the 
 evening with her as often as she desired it. Our 
 supper consisted only of half an anchovy a-piece, 
 upon a slice of bread and butter, with half a pint 
 of ale between us. But the entertainment was 
 in her conversation. 
 
 Tire early hours I kept, and the little trouble 
 I occasioned in the family, made her loath to 
 part with me; and when I mentioned another 
 lodging I had found, nearer the printing-house, 
 at two shillings a week, which fell in with my 
 plan of saving, she persuaded me to give it up, 
 making herself an abatement of two shillings: 
 and thus I continued to lodge with her, during 
 the remainder of my abode in London, at 
 eighteen-pence a week. 
 
 In a garret of the house there lived, in a most 
 retired manner, a lady seventy years of age, of 
 whom I received the following account from my 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 71 
 
 landlady. She was a Roman Catholic. In her 
 early years she had been sent to the continent, 
 and entered a convent with the design of be- 
 coming a nun; but the climate not agreeing with 
 her constitution, she was obliged to return to 
 England, where, as there were no monasteries, 
 she made a vow to lead a monastic life,, in as 
 rigid a manner as circumstances would permit. 
 She accordingly disposed of all her property to 
 be applied to charitable uses, reserving to her- 
 self only twelve pounds a year: and of this small 
 pittance she gave a part to the poor, living on 
 water gruel, and never making use of fire but to 
 boil it. She had lived in this garret a great 
 many years, without paying rent to the succes- 
 sive Catholic inhabitants that had kept the 
 house; who indeed considered her abode with 
 them as a blessing. A priest came every day to 
 confess her. " I have asked her, " said my land- 
 lady, "how, living as she did, she could find so 
 much employment for a confessor] To which she 
 answered, that it was impossible to avoid vain 
 thoughts." 
 
 I was once permitted to visit her. She was 
 cheerful and polite, and her conversation agree- 
 able. Her apartment was neat; but the whole 
 furniture consisted of a mattrass, a table, on 
 whicli was a crucifix and a book, a chair, which 
 she gave me to sit on, and over the mantel-piece 
 a picture of St. Veronica displaying her hand- 
 kerchief, on which was seen the miraculous im- 
 pression of the face of Christ, which she explain- 
 ed to me with great gravity. Her countenance 
 was pale, but she had never experienced sick- 
 ness; and I may adduce her as another proof 
 how little is sufficient to maintain life and 
 health. 
 
 At the printing-house I contracted an intima- 
 
72 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 cy with a sensible young man of the name of 
 Wygate, who, as his parents were in good cir- 
 cumstances, had received a better education than 
 is common among printers. He was a tolerable 
 Latin scholar, spoke French fluently, and was 
 fond of reading. I taught him, as well as a friend 
 of his, to swim, by taking them twice only into 
 the river; after which they stood in need of no 
 farther assistance. We one day made a party 
 to go by water to Chelsea, in order to see the 
 College, and Don Soltero's curiosities. On our 
 return, at the request of the company, whose 
 curiosity Wygate had excited, I undressed my- 
 self, and leaped into the river. I swam from 
 near Chelsea the whole way to Black-friars 
 Bridge, exhibiting, during my course, a variety 
 of feats of activity and address, both upon the 
 surface of the water, as well as under it. This 
 sight occasioned much astonishment and pleasure 
 to those to whom it was new. In my youth I 
 took great delight in this exercise. I knew, and 
 could execute, all the evolutions and positions of 
 Thevenot; and I added to them some of my own 
 invention, in which I endeavored to unite 
 gracefulness and utility. I took a pleasure in dis- 
 playing them all on this occasion, and was high- 
 ly flattered with the admiration they excited. 
 
 Wygate, besides his being desirous of perfect- 
 ing himself in this art, was the more attached to 
 me from there being, in other respects, a con- 
 formity in our tastes and studies. He at length 
 proposed to me to make the tour of Europe with 
 him, maintaining ourselves at the same time by 
 working at our profession. I was on the point 
 of consenting, when I mentioned it to my friend, 
 Mr. Denham, with whom I was glad to pass an 
 hour whenever I had leisure. He dissuaded me 
 from the project, and advised me to think of re- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 73 
 
 turning to Philadelphia, which he was about to 
 do himself. I must relate in this place a trait of 
 this worthy man's character. 
 
 He had formerly been in business at Bristol,' 
 but failing;, he compounded with his creditors, 
 and departed for America, where, by assiduous 
 application as a merchant, he acquired in a few 
 years a very considerable fortune. Returning; to 
 England in the same vessel with myself, as I have 
 related above, he invited all his old creditors to 
 a feast. When assembled, he thanked them 
 for the readiness with which they had received 
 his small composition; and, while they expected 
 nothing; more than a simple entertainment, each 
 found under his plate, when it came to be remov- 
 ed, a draft upon a banker for the residue of his 
 debt, with interest. 
 
 He told me that it was his intention to carry 
 back with him to Philadelphia a great quantity 
 of goods, in order to open a store; and he offer- 
 ed to take me with him in the capacity of clerk, 
 to keep his books, in which he would instruct 
 me, copy letters, and superintend the store. He 
 added, that as soon as I had acquired a knowl- 
 edge of mercantile transactions, he would im- 
 prove my situation, by sending me with a cargo 
 of corn and flour to the American islands, and 
 by procuring me other lucrative commissions; so 
 that, with good management and economy, I 
 might in time begin business with advantage for 
 myself. 
 
 I relished these proposals. London began to 
 tire me; the agreeable hours I had passed at 
 Philadelphia presented themselves to my mind, 
 and I wished to see them revive. I consequently 
 engaged myself to Mr. Denham, at a salary of 
 fifty pounds a year. This was indeed less than 
 I earned as a compositor, but then I had -a much 
 7 D 
 
74 Life of franklin. 
 
 fairer prospect. I took leave, therefore, as I 
 believed for ever, of printing, and .gave myself 
 up to my new occupation, spending all my time 
 either in going from house to house with Mr. 
 Denham to purchase goods, or in packing them 
 up or in expediting the workmen, &cc. &c. When 
 every thing, however, was on board, I had at 
 last a few days leisure. 
 
 During this interval, I was one day sent for by 
 a gentleman, whom I knew only by name. It 
 was Sir William Wyndham. I went to his house. 
 He had by some means heard of my performan- 
 ces between Chelsea and Blackfriars, and that I 
 Lad taught the art of swimming to Wygate and 
 another young man in the course of a few hours. 
 His two sons were on the point of setting out on 
 their travels; he was desirous that they should 
 previously learn to swim, and offered me a very 
 liberal reward if I would undertake to instruct 
 them. They were not yet arrived in town, and 
 the stay I should make was uncertain; I could 
 not therefore accept his proposal. I was led, 
 however, to suppose from this incident, that if I 
 had wished to remain in London, and open a 
 swimming school, I should perhaps have gained 
 a great deal of money. The idea struck me so 
 forcibly that, had the offer been made sooner, I 
 should have dismissed the thought of returning 
 as yet to America. Some years after, you and I 
 had a more important business to settle with one 
 of the sons of Sir William Wyndham, then Lord 
 Egremont. But let us not anticipate events. 
 
 I thus passed about eighteen months in Lon- 
 don, working almost without intermission at my 
 trade, avoiding all expense on my own account, 
 except going now and then to the play, and pur- 
 chasing a few books. But my friend Ralph kept 
 me poor. He owed me about twenty-seven 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 75 
 
 pounds, which was so much money lost; and 
 when considered as taken from my little savings, 
 was a very great sum. I had, notwithstanding 
 this, a regard for him, as he possessed many 
 amiable qualities. But though I had done noth- 
 ing for myself in point of fortune, I had increas- 
 ed my stock of knowledge, either by the many 
 excellent books I had read, or the conversation 
 of learned and literary persons with whom I was 
 acquainted. 
 
 We sailed from Gravesend on the 23d of July, 
 1726. For the incidents of. my voyage I refer 
 you to my Journal, where you will find all its 
 circumstances minutely related. We landed at 
 Philadelphia on the 11th of the following Octo- 
 ber. 
 
 Keith had been deprived of his office of Gov- 
 ernor, and was succeeded by Major Gordon. I 
 met him walking in the street as a private indi- 
 vidual. He appeared a little ashamed at seeing 
 me, but passed on without saying any thing. 
 
 I should have been equally ashamed myself at 
 meeting Miss Read, had not her family, justly 
 despairing of my return after reading my letter, 
 advised her to give me up, and marry a potter, 
 of the name of Rogers; to which she consented: 
 but he never made her happy, and she soon se- 
 parated from him, refusing to cohabit with him, 
 or even bear his name, on account of a report 
 which prevailed, of his having another wife. His 
 skill in his profession had seduced Miss Read's 
 parents; but he was as bad a subject as he was 
 excellent as a workman. He involved himself in 
 debt, and fled, in the year 1727 or 1728, to the 
 West Indies, where he died. 
 
 During my absence Keimer had taken a more 
 considerable house, in which he kept a shop, 
 that was well supplied with paper, and various 
 
76 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 other articles. He had procured some new types, 
 and a number of workmen; among whom, how- 
 ever, there was not one who was good for any 
 thing'; and he appeared not to want business. 
 
 Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water 
 Street, where we exhibited our commodities. I 
 applied myself closely, studied accounts, and be- 
 came in a short time very expert in trade. We 
 lodged and eat together, lie was sincerely at- 
 tached to me, and acted towards me as if he had 
 been my father. On my side, I respected and 
 loved him. My situation was happy; but it was 
 a happiness of no long duration. 
 
 Early in February, 1727, when I entered into 
 my twenty-second year, we were both taken ill. 
 I, was attacked with a pleurisy, which had nearly 
 carried me off: I suffered terribly, and consider- 
 ed it as all over with me. I felt indeed a sort of 
 disappointment when I found myself likely to re- 
 cover, and regretted that I had still to experi- 
 ence sooner or later, the same disagreeable 
 scene again. 
 
 I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's dis- 
 order; but it was a tedious one, and he at last 
 sunk under it. He left me a small legacy in his 
 will, as a testimony of his friendship; and I was 
 once more abandoned to myself in the wide 
 world, the warehouse being confided to the care 
 of the testamentary executor, who dismissed 
 me. 
 
 My brother-in-law. Holmes, who happened to 
 be at Philadelphia, advised me to return to my 
 former profession; and Keifner offered me a very 
 considerable salary if 1 wuuld undertake the 
 management of his printing-office, that he might 
 devote himself entirely to the superintendence 
 of his shop. His wife and relations in London 
 had given me a bad character cf him; and I was 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 77 
 
 loath, for the present, to have any concern with 
 him. I endeavored to get employment as a 
 clerk to a merchant; but not readily finding a 
 situation, I was induced to accept Keimer's pro- 
 posal. 
 
 The following were the persons I found in his 
 printing-house. 
 
 Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thir- 
 ty-five years of age. He had been brought up 
 to husbandry, was honest, and sensible, had some 
 experience, and was fond of reading; but too 
 much addicted to drinking. 
 
 Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke from 
 school, and of rustic education, with endow- 
 ments rather above the common order, and a 
 competent portion of understanding and gaiety; 
 but a little idle. Keimer had engaged these two 
 at very low wages, which he had promised 
 to raise every three months a shilling a week, 
 provided their improvement in the typographic 
 art should merit it. This future increase of 
 wages was the bait he had made use of to ensnare 
 them. Meredith was to work at the press, and 
 Potts to bind books, which he had engaged to 
 teach them, though he understood neither him- 
 self. 
 
 John Savage, an Irishman, who had been 
 brought up to no trade, and whose service, for a 
 period of four years, Keimer had purchased of 
 the Captain of a ship. He was also to be a press- 
 man. 
 
 George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time 
 he had in like manner bought for four years, in- 
 tending him for a compositor. I shall speak 
 more of him presently. 
 
 Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was 
 apprenticed to him. 
 
 I soon perceived that Keimer's intention, in 
 
78 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 engaging me at a price so much above what he 
 was accustomed to give, was, that I might form 
 all these raw journeymen and apprentices, who 
 scarcely cost him any thing, and who, being in- 
 dentured, would, as soon as they should be suffi- 
 ciently instructed, enable him to do without me. 
 I nevertheless adhered to my agreement. I put 
 the office in order, which was in the utmost con- 
 fusion, and brought his people, by degrees, to 
 pay attention to their work, and to execute it 
 in a more masterly style. / 
 
 It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the 
 condition of a purchased servant, lie was not 
 more than eighteen years of age ; and the fol- 
 lowing are the particulars he gave me of him- 
 self. Born at Gloucester, he had been educated 
 at a grammar-school, and had distinguished him- 
 self among the scholars by his superior style of 
 acting, when they represented dramatic perform- 
 ances. He was a member of a literary club in 
 the town ; and some pieces of his composition, 
 in prose as well as in verse, had been inserted 
 in the Gloucester papers. From hence he was 
 sent to Oxford, where he remained about a year ; 
 but he was not contented, and wished above all 
 things to see London, and become an actor. At 
 length, having received fifteen guineas to pay his 
 quarter's board, he decamped with the money 
 from Oxford, hid his gown in a hedge, and trav- 
 elled to London. There, having no friend to 
 direct him, he fell into bad company, soon squan- 
 dered his fifteen guineas, could find no way of 
 being introduced to the actors, became con- 
 temptible, pawned his clothes, and was in want 
 of bread. As he was walking along the streets, 
 almost famished with hunger, and not knowing 
 what to do, a recruiting bill was put into his 
 hand, which offered an immediate treat and 
 7 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 79 
 
 bounty-money to whoever was disposed to serve 
 in America. He instantly repaired to the house 
 of rendezvous, enlisted himself, was put on board 
 a ship, and conveyed to America, without ever 
 writing; a line to inform his parents what was 
 become of him. His mental vivacity, and good 
 natural disposition, made him an excellent com- 
 panion; but he was indolent, thoughtless, _and 
 to the last degree impfudent. 
 
 John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I began 
 to live very agreeably with the rest. They re- 
 spected me, and the more so as they found Kei- 
 mer incapable of instructing them, and as they 
 learned something from me everyday. We nev- 
 er worked on a Saturday, it being Keimer's sab- 
 bath ; so that I had two days a week for reading. 
 
 I increased my acquaintance with persons of 
 knowledge and information in the town. Kei- 
 mer himself treated me with great civility and 
 apparent esteem ; and I had nothing to give me 
 uueasiness but my debt, to Vernon, which I was 
 unable to pay, my savings as yet being very little. 
 He had the goodness, however, not to ask me for 
 the money. 
 
 Our press was frequently in want of the neces- 
 sary quantity of letter; and there was no &uch 
 trade as that of letter-founder in America. I had 
 seen the practice of this art at the House of 
 James, in London; but had at the time paid it 
 very little attention. I however contrived to 
 fabricate a mould. I made use of such letters as 
 we had for punches, founded new letters of lead 
 in matrices of clay, and thus supplied, in a tol- 
 erable manner, the wants that were most pressing. 
 
 I also, upon occasion, engraved various orna- 
 ments, made ink, gave an eye to the shop; in 
 short, I was in every respect the factotum. But 
 useful as I made myself, I perceived that my ser- 
 
80 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 vices became every day of less importance, in 
 proportion as the other men improved: and when 
 Keimer paid me my second quarter's wages, he 
 gave me to understand they were too heavy, and 
 that he thought I ought to make an abatement. 
 He became by degrees less civil, and assumed 
 more the tone of the master. He frequently found 
 fault, was difficult to please, and seemed always 
 on the point of coming to an open quarrel with 
 me. 
 
 1 continued, however, to bear it patiently, 
 conceiving that his illhumor was partly occa- 
 sioned by the derangement and embarrassment 
 of his alfairs. At last a slight incident broke our 
 connexion. Hearing a noise in the neighbor- 
 hood, I put my head out at the window to see 
 what was the matter. Keimer being in the 
 street, observed me,and, in a loud and angry 
 tone, told me to mind my work; adding some 
 reproachful words, which piqued me the more, 
 as they were uttered in the street, a,nd the neigh- 
 bors, whom the same noise had attracted to the 
 windows, were witnesses of the manner in which 
 I was treated. He immediately came up to the 
 printing-room, and continued to exclaim against 
 me. The quarrel became warm on both sides, 
 and he gave me notice to quit him at the expira- 
 tion of three months, as had been agreed upon 
 between us; regretting that he was obliged to 
 give me so long a term. I told him that his regret 
 was superfluous, as I was ready to quit him in- 
 stantly, and I took my hat and came out of the 
 house, begging Meredith to take care of some 
 things which I left, and bring them to my lodg- 
 ings. ~- 
 
 Meredith came to me in the evening. We talk- 
 ed for some time upon the quarrel that had taken 
 place. He had conceived a great veneration for 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 81 
 
 me, and was sorry I should quit the house while 
 he remained in it. He dissuaded me from return- . 
 ing to my native country, as I began to think of 
 doing. He reminded me that Keimer owed me 
 more than he possessed: that his creditors began 
 to be alarmed*; that he kept his shop in a wretched 
 state, often selling things at prime "cost for the 
 sake of ready money, and continually giving 
 credit .without keeping any accounts; that of 
 consequence he must very soon fail, which would 
 occasion a vacancy from which I might derive 
 advantage. I objected my want of money. Upon 
 which he informed me that his father had a very 
 high opinion of me, and, from a conversation 
 that had passed between them, he was sure that 
 he would advance whatever might be necessary 
 to establish us, if I was willing to enter into 
 partnership with him. "My time with Keimer," 
 added he, " will be at an end next spring. In 
 the mean time we may send to London for our 
 press and types, I know that I am no workman; 
 but if you agree to the proposal, your skill in the 
 business will be balanced by the capital I shall 
 furnish, and we will share the profits equally." 
 His proposal was seasonable, and I fell in with 
 it. His father, who was then in the town, ap- 
 proved of it. He knew that I had some ascen- 
 dency over his son, as I had been able to prevail 
 on him to abstain a long time from drinking 
 brandy: and he hoped that, when more closely 
 connected with him, I should cure him entirely 
 cf this unfortunate habit. 
 
 I gave the father a list of what it would be ne- 
 cessary to import from London. He took it to a 
 merchant, and the order was given. We agreed 
 to keep the secret till the arrival of the materi- 
 als, and I was in the mean time to procure work, 
 if possible, in another printing-house ; but there 
 d2 
 
82 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 was no place vacant, and I remained idle. After 
 some days, Keimer having- the expectation of 
 being- employed to print some New Jersey money 
 bills, that would require types and engravings 
 which I only could furnish, and fearful that Brad- 
 ford, by engaging- me, might deprive him of this 
 undertaking, sent me a very civil message, tell- 
 ing me that old friends ought not to be disunited 
 on account of a few words, which were the effect 
 only of a momentary passion, and inviting me to 
 return to him. Meredith persuaded me to com- 
 ply with the invitation, particularly as it would 
 afford him more opportunities of improving him- 
 self in the business by means of my instructions. 
 I did so; and we lived upon better terms than be- 
 fore our separation. 
 
 He obtained the New Jersey business; and, in 
 order to execute it, I constructed a copper-plate 
 printing-press, the first that had been seen in the 
 country. I engraved various ornaments and vig- 
 nettes for the bills; and we repaired to Burling- 
 ton together, where I executed the whole to gen- 
 eral satisfaction; and he received a sum of 
 money for this work, which enabled him to keep 
 his head above water for a considerable time 
 longer. 
 
 At Burlington I formed an acquaintance with 
 the principal personages of the province, many 
 of whom were commissioned by the Assembly to 
 superintend the press, and to see that no more 
 bills were printed than the law had prescribed. 
 Accordingly they were constantly with us, each 
 in his turn ; and he that came commonly brought 
 with him a friend or two to bear him company. 
 My mind was more cultivated by reading than 
 Keimer's; and it was for this reason, probably, 
 that they set more value on my conversation. 
 They took me to their houses, introduced me to 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 83 
 
 their friends, and treated me with the greatest 
 civility; while Keimer, though master, saw him- 
 self a little neglected. He was, in fact, a 
 strange animal, ignorant of the common modes 
 of life, apt to oppose with rudeness generally re- 
 ceived opinions, an enthusiast in certain points 
 of religion, disgustingly unclean in his person, 
 and a little knavish withal. 
 
 We remained there nearly three months; and 
 at the expiration of this period I could include 
 in the list of my friends, Judge Allen, Samuel 
 Bustil, Secretary of the province, Isaac Pearson, 
 Joseph Cooper, several of the Smiths, all mem- 
 bers of the Assembly, and. Isaac Docon, Inspec- 
 tor-general. The last was a shrewd and subtle old 
 man. He told me, that when a boy, his first em- 
 ployment had been that of carrying clay to 
 brick-makers ; that he did not learn to write till 
 he was somewhat advanced in life ; that he was af- 
 terwards employed as an underling to a survey- 
 or, who taught him this trade, and that by indus- 
 try he had at last acquired a competent fortune. 
 " I foresee, " said he one day to me, " that you 
 will soon supplant this man (speaking of Keimer,) 
 and get a fortune in the business at Philadel- 
 phia. " He was totally ignorant at the time, of 
 my intention of establishing myself there, or any 
 where else. These friends were very serviceable 
 to me in the end, as was I also, upon occasion, 
 to some of them ; and they have continued ever 
 since their esteem for me. 
 
 Before I relate the particulars of my entrance' 
 into business, it may be proper to inform you 
 what was at that time the state of my mind as 
 to moral principles, that you may see the degree 
 of influence they had upon the subsequent events 
 of my life. 
 
 My parents had given me betimes religious im* 
 
SI LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 pressions, and I received from my infancy a pious 
 education in the principles of Calvinism. But 
 scarcely was I arrived at fifteen years of age, 
 when, after having 1 doubted in turn of different 
 tenets, accordingly as I found them combatted in 
 the different books that I read, I began to doubt 
 of revelation itself. Some volumes against deism 
 fell into my hands. They were said to be the 
 substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lec- 
 ture. It happened that they produced on me an 
 effect precisely the reverse of what was intended 
 by the writers; for the arguments of the deists, 
 which were cited in order to be refuted, appear- 
 ed to me much more forcible than the refutation 
 itself. In a word, I soon became a perfect deist 
 My arguments perverted some other young per 
 sons, particularly Collins and Ralph. But in the 
 sequel, when I recollected that they had both 
 used me extremely ill, without the smallest re- 
 morse ; when I considered the behaviour of 
 Keith, another free-thinker, and my own con- 
 duct towards Vernon and Miss Read, which at 
 times gave me great uneasiness, I was led to 
 suspect that this doctrine, though it might be 
 true, was not very useful. I began to entertain a 
 less favorable opinion of my London pamphlet, 
 to which I had prefixed, as a motto, the follow- 
 ing lines of Dryden: 
 
 Whatever is is right; though purblind man- 
 Sees but part of the chain, the nearest link, 
 His eyes not carrying to the equal beam 
 That poises all above. 
 
 And of which the object was to prove, from the 
 attributes of God, his goodness, wisdom, and 
 power, that there could be no such thing as evil 
 in the world ; that vice and virtue did not in re- 
 ality exist, and were nothing more than vain dis- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 85 
 
 tinctions. I do longer regarded it as- so blame- 
 less a work as I had formerly imagined ; and I 
 suspected that some error must have impercep- 
 tibly glided into my argument, by which all the 
 inferences I had drawn from it had been affected, 
 as frequently happens in metaphysical reason- 
 ings. In a word, I was at last convinced that 
 truth, probity, and sincerity, in transactions be- 
 tween man and man, were of the utmost impor- 
 tance to the happiness of life ; and I resolved 
 from that moment, and wrote the resolution in 
 my Journal, to practise them as long as I lived. 
 
 Revelation, indeed, as such, had no influence 
 on my mind; but I was of opinion that, though 
 certain actions could not be bad merely because 
 revelation had prohibited them, or good because 
 it enjoined them, yet it was probable that those 
 actions were prohibited because they were bad 
 for us, or enjoined because advantageous in their 
 nature, all things considered. This persuasion, 
 Divine Providence, or some guardian angel, and 
 perhaps a concurrence of favorable circumstan- 
 ces co-operating, preserved me from all immo- 
 rality, or gross and voluntary injustice, to which 
 my want of religion was calculated to expose 
 me, in the dangerous period of youth, and in the 
 hazardous situations in which I sometimes found 
 myself, among strangers, and at a distance from 
 the eye and admonitions of my father. I may say 
 voluntary, because the errors into which I had 
 fallen, had been in a manner the forced result 
 either of my own inexperience, or the dishonesty 
 of others. Thus, before I entered on my own 
 new career, I had imbibed solid principles, and 
 a character of probity. I knew their value ; and 
 I made a solemn engagement with myself never 
 to depart from them. 
 
 I had not long returned from Burlington before 
 8 
 
86 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 our printing materials arrived from London. I 
 settled my accounts Avith Keimer, and quitted 
 him with his own consent, before he had any 
 knowledge of our plan. We found a house to let 
 near the market. We took it, and, to render 
 the rent less burdensome (it was then twenty- 
 four pounds a year, but I have since known it let 
 for seventy,) we admitted Thomas Godfrey, a 
 glazier, with his family, who eased us of a con- 
 siderable part of it ; and with him we agreed to 
 board. 
 
 We had no sooner unpacked our letter, and 
 put our press in order, than a person of my ac- 
 quaintance, George House, brought us a country- 
 man, whom he had met in the streets inquiring 
 for a printer. Our money was almost exhausted 
 by the number of things we had been obliged to 
 procure. The five shillings we received from 
 this countryman, the first fruit of our earnings, 
 coming so seasonably, gave me more pleasure 
 than any sum I have since gained; and the recol- 
 lection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to 
 George House has rendered me often more dis- 
 posed, than perhaps I should otherwise have been, 
 to encourage young beginners in trade. 
 
 There are in every country morose being* 
 who are always prognosticating ruin. Then . 
 was one of this stamp at Philadelphia. He w; 
 *a man of fortune, declined in years, had an a: • 
 of wisdom, and a very grave manner of speakinp 
 His name was Samuel Mickle. I knew him noi 
 but he stopped one day at my door, and aske< 
 me if I was the young man who had lately open- 
 ed a new printing-house. Upon my answering 
 in the affirmative, he said that he was very sorry 
 for me, as it was an expensive undertaking, and 
 the money that had been laid out upon it would 
 be lost, Philadelphia being a place falling into 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 87 
 
 decay; its inhabitants having all, or nearly all of 
 them, been obliged to call together their credi- 
 tors. That he knew, from undoubted fact, the 
 circumstances which might lead us to suppose 
 the contrary, such as new buildings and the ad- 
 vanced price of rent, to be deceitful appear- 
 ances, which in reality contributed to hasten the 
 general ruin; and he gave me so long a detail of 
 misfortunes actually existing, or which were 
 soon to take place, that he left me almost in a 
 state of despair. Had I known this man before 
 I entered into trade, I should doubtless never 
 have ventured. He continued, however, to live 
 in this place of decay, and to declaim in the same 
 style, refusing for many years to buy a house, 
 because all was going to wreck; and in the end 
 I had the satisfaction to see him pay five times as 
 much for one as it would have cost, him had he 
 purchased it when he first began his lamentations. 
 I ought to have related, that, during the au- 
 tumn of the preceding year, I had united the ma- 
 jority of well-informed persons of my acquaint- 
 ance into a club, which we called by the name 
 of the Junto, and the object of which was to im- 
 prove our understandings. We met every Fri- 
 day evening. The Regulations I drew up, obli- 
 ged every member to propose, in his turn, one 
 or more questions upon some point of morality, 
 politics, or philosophy, which were to be discuss- 
 ed by the Society; and to read, once in three 
 months, an Essay of his own composition, on 
 whatever subject h^ pleased. Our debates were 
 under the direction of a President, and were to 
 be dictated only by a sincere desire of truth; 
 the pleasure of disputing and the vanity of .tri- 
 umph having no share in the business; and in 
 order to prevent undue warmth, every expres- 
 sion which implied obstinate adherence to an. 
 
83 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 opinion, and all direct contradiction, were pro- 
 hibited, under small pecuniary penalties. 
 
 The first members of our Club were Joseph 
 Breintnal, whose occupation was that of a scriv- 
 ener. He was a middle-aged man, of a good na- 
 tural disposition, strongly attached to his friends, 
 a great lover of poetry, reading every thing that 
 came in his way and writing tolerably well, in- 
 genious in many little trifles, and of an agreea- 
 ble conversation. 
 
 Thomas Godfrey, a skilful though self-taught 
 mathematician, and who was afterwards the in- 
 ventor of what now goes by the name of Had- 
 ley's Dial: but he had little knowledge out of his 
 own line, and was insupportable in company, al- 
 ways requiring, like the majority of mathemati- 
 cians that have fallen in my way, an unusual pre- 
 cision in every thing that is said, continually 
 contradicting, or making trifling distinctions; 
 a sure way of defeating all the ends of conver- 
 sation. He very soon left us. 
 
 Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became 
 afterwards Surveyor-general. He was fond of 
 books, and wrote verses. 
 
 "William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a 
 shoemaker, but who, having a taste for reading, 
 had acquired a profound knowledge of mathe- 
 matics. He first studied them with a view to 
 astrology, and was afterwards the first to laugh 
 at his folly. He also became Surveyor-general. 
 
 William Mawgride, a joiner, and very excel- 
 lent mechanic; and in other respects a man of 
 solid understanding. 
 
 Hugh Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George 
 Webb, of whom I have already spoken. 
 
 Robert Grace, a young man of fortune; gen- 
 erous, animated, and witty; fond of epigrams, 
 hut more fond of his friends. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 89 
 
 And, lastly, William Coleman, at that time a 
 merchant's clerk, and nearly of my own age. 
 He had a cooler and clearer head, a better 
 heart, and more scrupulous morals, than almost 
 any other person I have ever met with. He be- 
 came a very respectable merchant, and one of 
 our provincial judges. Our friendship subsisted, 
 without interruption, for more than forty years, 
 till the period of his death; and the Club, contin- 
 ued to exist almost as long. 
 
 This was the best school for politics and 
 philosophy that then existed in the province ; for 
 our questions, which were read once a week 
 previous to their discussion, induced us to peruse 
 attentively such books as were written upon the 
 subjects proposed, that we might be able to 
 speak upon them more pertinently. We thus ac- 
 quired the habit of conversing more agreeably ; 
 every object being discussed conformably to our 
 regulations, and in a manner to prevent mutual 
 disgust. To this circumstance maybe attributed 
 the long duration of the Club ; which I shall have 
 frequent occasion to mention as I proceed. 
 
 I have introduced it here, as being one of the 
 means on which I had to count for success in my 
 business, every member exerting himself to pro- 
 cure work for us. Breintnal, among others, ob- 
 tained for us, on the part of the Quakers, the 
 printing of forty sheets of their history ; of which 
 the rest was to be done by Keimer. Our execu- 
 tion of this work was by no means masterly; as 
 the price was very low. It was in folio, upon 
 pro palria paper, and in the pica letter, with 
 heavy, notes in the smallest type. I composed a 
 sheet a day, and Meredith put it to the press. 
 It was frequently eleven o'clock at night, some- 
 times later, before I had finished my distribution 
 for the next day's task; for the little things 
 
90 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 which our friends occasionally sent us, kept us 
 back in this work: but I was so determined to 
 compose a sheet a day, that one evening, when 
 my form was imposed, and my day's work, as I 
 thought, at an end, an accident having broken 
 this form, and deranged two complete folio pages, 
 I immediately distributed, and composed them 
 anew before I went to bed. 
 
 This unwearied industry, which was perceived 
 fry our neighbors, began to acquire us reputation 
 and credit. I learned, among other things, that 
 our new printing-house, being the subject of con- 
 versation at a Club of merchants, who met every, 
 evening, it was the general opinion that it would 
 fail; there being already two printing-house3 in 
 the town, Keimer's and Bradford's. But Dr. 
 Bard, whom you and I had occasion to see, many 
 years after, at his native town of St. Andrews, 
 in Scotland, was of a different opinion. "The 
 industry of this Franklin (said he) is superior to 
 any thing of the kind I have ever witnessed. I 
 see him still at work when I return from the Club 
 at night, and he is at it again in the morning be- 
 fore his neighbors are out of bed. " This account 
 struck the rest of the assembly, and, shortly 
 after, one of its members came to our house, and 
 offered to supply us with articles of stationary ; 
 but we wished not as yet to embarrass ourselves 
 with keeping a shop. It is not for the sake of 
 applause that I enter so freely into the particu- 
 lars of my industry, but that such of my descend- 
 ants as shall read these Memoirs may know the 
 use of this virtue, by seeing in the recital of my 
 life the effects it operated in my favor. 
 
 George Webb, having found a friend who lent 
 him the necessary sum to buy out his time of 
 Keimer, came one day to offer himself to us as 
 a journeyman. We could not employ him imme- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 91 
 
 diately ; but I foolishly told him, under the rose, 
 that I intended shortly to publish a new period- 
 ical paper, and that we should then have work 
 for him. My hopes of success, which I imparted 
 to him, were founded on the circumstance, that 
 the only paper we had- in Philadelphia at that 
 time, and which Bradford printed, was a paltry 
 thing 1 , miserably conducted, in no respect amus- 
 ing, and which yet was profitable. I consequent- 
 ly supposed that a good work of this kind could 
 not fail of success. Webb betrayed my secret 
 to Keimer, who, to prevent me, immediately 
 published the prospectus of a paper that he in- 
 tended to institue himself, and in which Webb 
 was to be engaged. 
 
 I was exasperated at this proceeding, and with 
 a view to counteract them, not being able at 
 present to institute my own paper, I wrote some 
 humorous pieces in Bradford's, under the title 
 of the Busy Body;* and which was continued 
 for several months by Breintnal. I hereby fixed 
 the attention of the public upon Bradford's 
 paper ; and the prospectus of Keimer, which we 
 turned into ridicule, was treated with contempt. 
 He began, notwithstanding, his paper; and after 
 continuing it for nine months, having at most 
 not more than ninety subscribers, he offered it 
 me for a mere trifle. I had for some time been 
 ready for such an engagement ; I therefore in- 
 stantly took it upon myself, and in a few years 
 it proved extremely profitable to me. 
 
 I perceive that I am apt to speak in the first 
 person, though our partnership still continued. 
 It is, perhaps, because, in fact, the whole bu- 
 
 * A manuscript note in the file of the American Mercu- 
 ry, preserved in the Philadelphia library, says, that 
 Franklin wrote the five first numbers, and part of the 
 eighth. 
 
93 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 einess devolved upon me. Meredith was no com- 
 positor, and but an indifferent pressman; and it 
 was rarely that he abstained from hard drinking. 
 My friends were sorry to see me connected with 
 him ; but I contrived to derive from it the ut- 
 most advantage the case admitted. 
 
 Our first number produced no other effect than 
 any other paper which had appeared in the Pro- 
 vince, as to type and printing; but some re- 
 marks, in my peculiar style of writing, upon the 
 dispute which then prevailed between Governor 
 Burnet and the Massachusetts Assembly, struck 
 some persons as above mediocrity, caused the 
 paper and its editors to be talked of, and in a 
 few weeks induced them to become our subscri- 
 bers. Many others followed their example , and 
 our subscription continued to increase. This was 
 one of the first good effects of the pains I hap* 
 taken to learn to put my ideas on paper. I de- 
 rived this farther advantage from it, that the lead- 
 ing men of the place, seeing in the author of this 
 publication a man so well able to use his pen, 
 thought it right to patronise and encourage me. 
 
 The votes, laws, and other public pieces were 
 printed by Bradford. An address of the House 
 of Assembly to the Governor had been executed 
 fey him in a very coarse and incorrect manner. 
 We reprinted it with accuracy and neatness, and 
 sent a copy to every member. They perceived 
 the difference ; and it so strengthened the influ- 
 ence of our friends in the Assembly, that we 
 were nominated its printer for the following 
 year. 
 
 Among these friends I ought not to forget one 
 member in particular, Mr. Hamilton, whom I 
 have mentioned in a former part of my narra- 
 tive, and who was now returned from England. 
 He warmly interested himself for me on this oc- 
 
. LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 93 
 
 easion, as he did likewise on many others after- 
 wards, having continued this kindness to me till 
 his death. 
 
 About this period Mr. Vern'on reminded me of 
 the debt I owed him, but without pressing me 
 for payment. I wrote a handsome letter on the 
 occasion, begging him to wait a little longer, to 
 which he consented ; and as soon as I was able I 
 paid him principal and interest, with many ex- 
 pressions of gratitude ; so that this error of my 
 life was in a manner atoned for. \ 
 
 But another trouble now happened to me, 
 which I had not the smallest reason to expect. 
 Meredith's father, who, according to our agree- 
 ment, was to defray the whole expense of our 
 printing materials, had only paid a hundred 
 pounds. Another hundred was still due, and the 
 merchant being tired of waiting, commenced a 
 suit against us. We bailed the action, but with 
 the melancholy prospect, that, if the money was 
 not forthcoming at the time fixed, the affair 
 would come to issue, judgment be put in execu- 
 tion, our delightful hopes be annihilated, and 
 ourselves entirely ruined; as the type and press 
 must be sold, perhaps at half their value, to pay 
 the debt. 
 
 In this distress, two real friends, whose gen- 
 erous conduct I have never forgotten, and never 
 shall forget while I retain the remembrance of 
 any thing, came to me separately, without the 
 knowledge of each other, and without my having 
 applied to either of them. Each offered what- 
 ever money might be necessary to take the busi- 
 ness into my own hands, if the thing was practi- 
 cable, as they did not like I should continue in 
 partnership with Meredith, who, they said, was 
 frequently seen drunk in the streets, and gam- 
 bling at alehouses, which very much injured ou 
 
94 LIFF. OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 credit. These friends were William Coleman, 
 and Robert Grace. I told them that while there 
 remained any probability that the Merediths 
 would fulfil their part of the compact, 1 could 
 not propose a separation, as I conceived myself 
 to be under obligations, to them for what they 
 had done already, and were still disposed to do, 
 if they had the power; but, in the end, should 
 they fail in their engagement, and our partner- 
 ship be dissolved, I should then think myself at 
 liberty to accept the kindness of my friends. 
 
 Things remained for some time in this state. 
 At last, I said one day to my partner, " Your 
 father is perhaps dissatisfied with your having a 
 share only in the business, and is unwilling to do 
 for two, what he would do for you alone. Tell 
 me frankly if that be the case, and I will resign 
 the whole to you, and do for myself as well as I 
 can." " No, (said he) my father has really been 
 disappointed in his hopes; he is not able to pay, 
 and I wish to put him to no farther inconveni- 
 ence. I see that I am not at all calculated for 
 a printer; I was educated as a farmer, and it was_ 
 absurd in me to come here, at thirty years of age, 
 and bind myself an apprentice to a new trade. 
 Many of my countrymen are going to settle in 
 North Carolina, where the soil is exceedingly 
 favorable. I am tempted to go with them, and 
 to resume my former occupation. You will 
 doubtless find friends who will assist you. If yoi* 
 will take upon yourself the debts of the partner- 
 ship, return my father the hundred pounds he has 
 advanced, pay my little personal debts, and give 
 me thirty pounds and a new saddle, I will re- 
 nounce the partnership, and consign over the 
 whole stock to you." 
 
 I accepted this proposal without hesitation. It 
 was committed to paper, and signed and sealed 
 

 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 95 
 
 "without delay. I gave him what he demanded, 
 and he departed soon after for Carolina, from 
 whence he sent me, in the following year, two 
 long letters, containing the best accounts that 
 had yet been given of that country, as to climate, 
 soil, agriculture, &c. for he was well versed in 
 these matters. I published them in my news- 
 paper, and they were received with great satis- 
 faction. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, I applied to my two 
 friends, and not wishing to give a disobliging 
 preference to either of them, I accepted from 
 each half what he had offered me, and which it 
 was necessary I should have. I paid the part- 
 nership debts, and continued the business on my 
 own account; taking care to inform the public, 
 by advertisement, of the partnership being dis- 
 solved. This was, I think, in the year 1729, or 
 thereabout. 
 
 Nearly at the same period, the people deman- 
 ded a new emission of paper money; the existing 
 and only one that had taken place in the Prov- 
 ince, and which amounted to fifteen thousand 
 pounds, being soon to expire. The wealthy in- 
 habitants, prejudiced against every sort of paper 
 currency, from the fear of its depreciation, of 
 which there had been an instance in the Prov- 
 ince of New England, to the injury of its holders, 
 strongly opposed this measure. We had discuss- 
 ed this affair in our junto, in which I was on the 
 side of the new emission; convinced that the first 
 small sum, fabricated in 1723, had done much 
 good in the Province, by favoring commerce, in- 
 dustry, and population, since all the houses were 
 now inhabited, and many others building; where- 
 as I remembered to have seen, when I first para- 
 ded the streets of Philadelphia eating my roll, 
 the majority of those in Walnut Street, Second 
 
96 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Street, Fourth Street, as well as a great number 
 in Chestnut and other streets, with papers on 
 them signifying that they were to be let ; which 
 made me think at the time that the inhabitants 
 of the town were deserting it one after another. 
 
 Our debates made me so fully master of the 
 subject, that I wrote and published an anony- 
 mous pamphlet, entitled, "An Inquiry into the 
 Nature and Necessity of Paper Currency." It 
 was very well received by the lower and mid- 
 dling classes of people ; but it displeased the 
 opulent, as it increased the clamor in favor of the 
 new emission. Having, however, no writer 
 among them capable of answering it, their oppo- 
 sition became less violent; and there being in 
 the House of Assembly a majority for the mea- 
 sure, it passed. The friends I had acquired in 
 the House, persuaded that I had done the coun- 
 try essential service on this occasion., rewarded 
 me by giving me the printing of the bills. It was 
 a lucrative employment, and proved a very sea- 
 sonable help to me ; another advantage which I 
 derived from having habituated myself to write. 
 
 Time and experience so fully demonstrated 
 the utility of paper currency, that it never after 
 experienced any considerable opposition ; so 
 that it soon amounted to 55,000/. and in the year 
 1739 to 80,000/. It has since risen, during the 
 last war, to 350,000/.; trade, buildings, and 
 population having in the interval continually in- 
 creased : but I am now convinced that there are 
 limits beyond which paper money would be pre- 
 judicial. 
 
 I soon after obtained, by the influence of my 
 friend Hamilton, the printing of the Newcastle 
 paper money, another profitable work, as I then 
 thought it, little things appearing great to per- 
 sons of moderate fortune , and they were really 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 97 
 
 great to me, as proving great encouragements. 
 He also procured me the printing of the laws 
 and votes of that government, which I retained 
 as long as I continued in the business. 
 
 I now opened a small stationer's shop. 1 kept 
 bonds and agreements of all kinds, drawn up in. 
 a more accurate form than had yet been seen in 
 that part of the world ; a work in which I was 
 assisted by my friend Breintnal. I had also 
 paper, parchment, pasteboard, books, &c. One 
 Whitemash, an excellent compositor, whom I 
 had known in London, came to offer himself: I 
 engaged him; and he continued constantly and 
 diligently to work with me. I also took an ap- 
 prentice, the son of Aquila Rose. 
 
 I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had 
 contracted; and, in order to ensure my credit 
 and character as a tradesman, I took care not 
 only to be really industrious and frugal, but also 
 to avoid every appearance of the contrary. I was 
 plainly dressed, and never seen in any place of 
 public amusement. I never went a fishing or 
 hunting. A book indeed enticed me sometimes 
 from my work, but it was seldom, by stealth, 
 and occasioned no scandal; and, to show that I 
 did not think myself above my profession, I con- 
 veyed home sometimes in a wheelbarrow, the 
 paper I had purchased at the warehouses. 
 
 I thus obtained the reputation of being an in- 
 dustrious young man, and very punctual in his 
 payments. The merchants who imported articles 
 of stationary solicited my custom; others offered 
 to furnish me with books, and my little trade 
 went on prosperously. 
 
 Meanwhile the credit and business of Keimer 
 diminishing every day, he was at last forced to 
 sell his stock to satisfy his creditors ; and he be- 
 took h'mself to Barbadoes, where he lived for 
 9 E 
 
98 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 some time in a very impoverished state. His ap- 
 prentice, David Harry, whom I had instructed 
 while I worked with Keimer, having bought his 
 materials, succeeded him in the business. I was 
 apprehensive, at first, of finding in Harry a pow- 
 erful competitor, as he was allied to an opulent 
 and respectable family ; I therefore proposed a 
 partnership, which, happily for me, he rejected 
 with disdain. He was extremely proud, thought 
 himself a fine gentleman, lived extravagantly, 
 and pursued amusements which suffered him to 
 be scarcely ever at home ; of consequence he 
 became in debt, neglected his business, and bu- 
 siness neglected him. Finding in a short time 
 nothing to do in the country, be followed 
 Keimer to Barbadoes, carrying his printing ma- 
 terials with him. There the apprentice employ- 
 ed his old master as a journeyman. They were 
 continually quarrelling; and Harry, still getting 
 in debt, was obliged at last to sell his press and 
 types, and return to his old occupation of hus- 
 bandry in Pennsylvania. The person who pur- 
 chased them employed Keimer to manage the 
 business, but he died a few years after. 
 
 I had now at Philadelphia no competitor 
 but Bradford, who, being in easy circumstan- 
 ces, did not engage in the printing of books, 
 except now and then as workmen chanced to 
 offer themselves ; and was not anxious to ex- 
 tend his trade. He had, however, one advan- 
 tage over me, as he had the direction of the 
 post-office, and was of consequence supposed to- 
 have better opportunities of obtaining news. 
 His paper was also supposed to be more advan- 
 tageous to advertising customers ; and in conse- 
 quence of that supposition, his advertisements- 
 were much more numerous than mine: this was 
 a source of great profit to him, and disadvantage- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 99 
 
 ©us to me. It was to no purpose that I really- 
 procured other papers and distributed my own, 
 by means of the post; the public took for grant- 
 ed my inability in this respect; and I was indeed 
 unable to conquer it in any other mode than by 
 bribing the postboys, who served me only by 
 stealth, Bradford being so illiberal as to forbid 
 them. This treatment of his excited my resent- 
 ment; and my disgust was so rooted that, when 
 I afterwards succeeded him in the post-office, I 
 took care to avoid copying his example* 
 
 I had hitherto continued to board with God- 
 frey, who, with his wife and children, occupied 
 part of my house, and half of the shop for his 
 business ; at which indeed he worked very little, 
 being always absorbed by mathematics. Mrs. 
 Godfrey formed a wish of marrying me to the 
 daughter of one of her relations. She contrived 
 various opportunities of bringing us together, 
 till she saw that I was captivated ; which was 
 not difficult; the lady in question possessing 
 great personal merit. The parents encouraged 
 my addresses, by inviting me continually to sup- 
 per,, and leaving us together, till at last it was 
 time to come to an explanation. Mrs. Godfrey 
 undertook to negotiate our little treaty. I gave 
 her to understand, that I expected to receive 
 with the young lady a sum of money that would 
 enable me at least to discharge the remainder of 
 the debt for my printing materials. It was then, 
 I believe, not more than a hundred pounds. She 
 brought me for answer, that they had no such 
 sum at their disposal. I observed that it might 
 easily be obtained, by a mortgage on their 
 house. The reply to this was, after a few days 
 interval, that they did not approve of the match; 
 that they had consulted Bradford, and found that 
 the business of a printer was not lucrative ; that 
 
100 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 my letters would soon be worn out, and must be 
 supplied by new ones ; that Keimer and Harry 
 had failed, and that, probably, I should do so too. 
 Accordingly they forbade me the house, and the 
 young lady was confined. I know not if they 
 had really changed their minds, or if it was 
 merely an artifice, supposing our affections to be 
 too far engaged for us to desist, and that we 
 should contrive to marry secretly, which would 
 leave them at liberty to give or not as they 
 pleased. But, suspecting this motive, I never 
 went again to their house. 
 
 Some time after, Mrs. Godfrey informed me 
 that they were favorably disposed towards me, 
 and wished me to renew the acquaintance ; but 
 I declared a firm resolution never to have any 
 thing more to do with the family. The Godfreys 
 -expressed some resentment at this; and as we 
 could no longer agree, they changed their resi- 
 dence, leaving me in possession of the whole 
 house. I then resolved to take no more lodgers. 
 This affair having turned my thoughts to mar- 
 riage, I looked around me, and made overtures 
 of alliance in other quarters; but I soon found 
 that the profession of a printer, being generally 
 looked upon as a poor trade, I could expect no 
 money with a wife, at least if I wished her to 
 possess any other charm. Meanwhile, that pas- 
 sion of youth, so difficult to govern, had often 
 drawn me into intrigues with despicable women 
 who fell in my way; which were not unaccom- 
 panied with expense and inconvenience, besides 
 the perpetual risk of injuring my health, and 
 catching a disease which I dreaded above all 
 things. But I was fortunate enough to escape 
 this danger. 
 
 As a neighbor and old acquaintance, I had 
 kept up a friendly intimacy with the family of 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 101 
 
 Miss Read. Her parents had retained an affec- 
 tion for me from the time of my lodging* in their 
 house. I was often invited thither; they consult- 
 ed me about their affairs, and I had been some- 
 times serviceable to them. I was touched with 
 the unhappy situation of their daughter, who was 
 almost always melancholy, and continually seek- 
 ing solitude. I regarded my forgetfulness and 
 inconstancy, during my abode in London, as the 
 principal part of her misfortune, though her 
 mother had the candor to attribute the fault to 
 herself, rather than to me, because, after hav- 
 ing prevented our marriage previously to my de- 
 parture, she had induced her to marry another 
 in my absence. 
 
 Our mutual affection revived ; but there exist- 
 ed great obstacles to our union. Her marriage 
 was considered, indeed, as not being valid, the 
 man having, it was said, a former wife, still liv- 
 ing in England ; but of this it was difficult to ob- 
 tain a proof at so great a distance ; and though 
 a report prevailed of his being dead, yet We had 
 no certainty of it; and supposing it to be true, 
 he had left many debts, for the payment of which 
 his successor might be sued. We ventured, 
 nevertheless, in spite of all these difficulties ; and 
 I married her on the 1st of September, 1730. 
 None of the inconveniences we had feared hap- 
 pened to us. She proved to me a good and faith- 
 ful companion, and contributed essentially to 
 the success of my shop. We prospered together, 
 and it was our mutual study to render each other 
 happy. Thus I corrected, as well as I could, this 
 great error of my youth. 
 
 Our Club was not at that time established at a 
 
 tavern. We held our meetings at the house of 
 
 Mr. Grace, who appropriated a room to the pur- 
 
 jpose. Some member observed one day that as 
 
 9* 
 
102 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 our books were frequently quoted in the course 
 of our discussions, it would be convenient to 
 have them collected in the room in which we as- 
 sembled, in order to be consulted upon occa- 
 sion, and that, by thus forming a common libra- 
 ry of our individual collections, each would have 
 the advantage of using the books of all the other 
 members, which would nearly be the same as if 
 he possessed them all himself. The idea was ap- 
 proved, and wc accordingly brought such books 
 as we thought we could spare, which were placed 
 at the end of the Club-room. They amounted 
 not to so many as we expected ; and though we 
 made considerable use of them, yet some incon- 
 veniences resulting, from want of care, it was 
 agreed, after about a year, to discontinue the 
 collection ; and each took away such books as 
 belonged to him. 
 
 It was now, that I first started the idea of es- 
 tablishing, by subscription, a public library. I 
 drew up the proposals, had them engrossed in 
 form by Brockden, the attorney, and my project 
 succeeded, as will be seen in the sequel. * * 
 
 [The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by him- 
 self, so far as it has yet been communicated to 
 the world, breaks off in this place. We under- 
 stand that it was continued by him somewhat 
 farther, and we hope that the remainder will, at 
 some future period, be communicated to the 
 public. We have no hesitation in supposing that 
 every reader will find himself greatly interested 
 by the frank simplicity and the philosophical dis- 
 cernment by which these pages are so eminently 
 characterized. We have therefore thought pro- 
 per, in order as much as possible to relieve his 
 regret, to subjoin the following continuation, by 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIX 10S 
 
 one of the Doctor's intimate friends. It is ex- 
 tracted from an American periodical publica- 
 tion, and was written by the late Dr. Stuber* of 
 Philadelphia.] 
 
 The promotion of literature had been little 
 attended to in Pennsylvania. Most of the inhab- 
 itants were too much immersed in business to 
 think of scientific pursuits ; and those few, whose 
 inclinations led them to study, found it difficult 
 to gratify them, from the want of libraries suffi- 
 ciently large. In such circumstances, the estab- 
 lishment of a public library was an important 
 event. This was first set on foot by Franklin, 
 about the year 1731. Fifty persons subscribed 
 forty shillings each, and agreed to pay ten shil- 
 lings annually. The number increased; and, in 
 1742, the company was incorporated by the 
 
 * Dr. Stuber was born in Philadelphia, of German pa- 
 rents. He was sent, at an early age, to the university 
 where his genius, diligence, and amiable temper soon ac- 
 quired him the particular notice and favor of those under 
 whose immediate direction he was placed. After passing 
 through the common course of stucfy, in a much shorter 
 time than usual, he left the university, at the age of six- 
 teen, with great reputation. Not long after, he entered on 
 the study of physic ; and the zeal with which he pursued 
 it, and the advances he made, gave his friends reason to 
 form the most flattering prospects of his future eminence and 
 usefulness in his profession. As Dr. Stuber's circumstances 
 were very moderate, he did not think this pursuit well cal- 
 culated to answer them. He therefore relinquished it, after 
 he had obtained a degree in the profession,, and qualified 
 himself to practise with credit and success; and immediate- 
 ly entered on the study of the law. While in pursuit of 
 the last-mentioned object he was prevented, by a premature 
 death, from reaping the fruit of those talents with which he 
 was endowed, and of a youth spent in the ardent and suc- 
 cessful pursuit of useful" and elegant literature. 
 
104 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 name of "The Library Company of Philadel- 
 phia." Several other companies were formed in 
 this city in imitation of it. These were all at 
 length united with the Library Company of Phil- 
 adelphia, which thus received a considerable ac- 
 cession of books and property. It now contains 
 about eight thousand volumes on all subjects, a 
 philosophical apparatus, and a well-chosen col- 
 lection of natural and artificial curiosities. For 
 its support the Company now possessed landed 
 property of considerable value. They have late- 
 ly built an elegant house in Fifth Street, in the 
 front of which will be erected a marble statue of 
 their founder, Benjamin Franklin. 
 
 This institution was greatly encouraged by the 
 friends of literature in America and in Great 
 Britain. The Penn family distinguished them- 
 selves by their donations. Amongst the earliest 
 friends of this institution must bo mentioned the 
 late Peter Collinson, the friend and companion 
 of Dr. Franklin. He not only made considerable 
 presents himself, and obtained others from his 
 friends, but voluntarily undertook to manage the 
 business of the Company in London, recommend? 
 ing books, purchasing and shipping them. His 
 extensive knowledge, and zeal for the promotion 
 of science, enabled him to execute this important 
 trust with the greatest advantage. He continur 
 ed to perform these services for more than thirty 
 years, and uniformly refused to accept of any 
 compensation. During this time, he communi- 
 cated to the Directors every information relative 
 to improvements and discoveries in the arts, 
 agriculture, and philosophy. 
 
 The beneficial influence of this institution was 
 soon evident. The terms of subscription to it 
 were so moderate that it was accessible to every 
 /one Its advantages were not confined to the 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 105 
 
 opulent. The citizens in the middle and lower 
 walks of life were equally partakers of them. 
 Hence a degree of information was extended 
 amongst all classes of people. The example was 
 soon followed. Libraries were established in 
 various places, and they are now become very 
 numerous in the United States, and particularly 
 in Pennslyvania. It is to be hoped that they will 
 be still more widely extended, and that informa- 
 tion will be every where increased. This will be 
 the best security for maintaining our liberties. 
 A nation of well-informed men, who have been 
 taught to know and prize the rights which God 
 has given them, cannot be enslaved. It is in the 
 regions of ignorance that tyranny reigns. It flies 
 before the light of science. Let the citizens of 
 America, then, encourage institutions calculat- 
 ed to diffuse knowledge amongst the people ; and 
 amongst these public libraries are not the least 
 important. 
 
 In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Rich- 
 ard's Almanac. This was remarkable for the 
 numerous and valuable concise maxims which it 
 contained, all tending to exhort to industry and 
 frugality. It was continued for many years. In 
 the almanac for the last year, all the maxims 
 were collected in an address to the reader, en- 
 titled, "The Way to Wealth." This has been 
 translated into various languages, and inserted 
 in different publications. It has also been print- 
 ed on a large sheet, and may be seen framed in 
 many houses in this city. This address contains, 
 perhaps, the best practical system of economy 
 that ever has appeared. It is written in a man- 
 ner intelligible to every one, and which cannot 
 fail of convincing every reader of the justice and 
 propriety of the remarks and advice which it 
 contains. The demand for this almanac was so 
 e2 
 
10« LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 great that ten thousand have been sold in one 
 year; which must be considered as a very large 
 number, especially when we reflect, that this 
 country was, at that time but thinly peopled 
 It cannot be doubted that tbe salutary maxims 
 contained in these almanacs must have made a 
 favorable impression upon many of the readers of 
 the ra- 
 it was not long before Franklin entered upon 
 his political career. In the year 1736, he was 
 appointed Clerk to the General Assembly of 
 Pennsylvania ; and was re-elected by succeeding 
 assemblies for several years, until he was cho- 
 sen a representative for the City of Philadel- 
 phia. 
 
 Bradford was possessed of some advantages 
 over Franklin, by being Post-master, thereby 
 having an opportunity of circulating his paper 
 more extensively, and thus rendering it abetter 
 vehicle for advertisements, &c, Franklin, in his 
 turn^ enjoyed these advantages, by being ap- 
 pointed Post-master of Philadelphia in 1737. 
 Bradford, while in office, had acted ungenerous- 
 ly towards Franklin, preventing as much as pos- 
 sible the circulation of his paper. He had now 
 an opportunity of retaliating; but his nobleness 
 of soul prevented him from making use of it. 
 
 The police of Philadelphia had early appointed 
 watchmen, whose duty it was to guard the citi- 
 zens against the midnight robber, and to give an 
 immediate alarm in case of fire. This duty is, 
 perhaps, one of the most important that can be 
 committed to any set of men. The regulations, 
 however, were not sufficiently strict. Franklin 
 saw the dangers arising from this cause, and sug- 
 gested an alteration, so as to oblige the guar 
 dians of the night to be more watchful over the 
 Jives and property of the citizens. The proprie-- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 107 
 
 ty of this was immediately perceived, and a re- 
 form was effected. 
 
 There is nothing more dangerous to growing 
 cities than fires. Other causes operate slowly, 
 and almost imperceptibly; but these in a mo-, 
 ment render abortive the labors of ages. On 
 this account there should be, in all cities, ample 
 provisions to prevent fires from spreading. Frank- 
 lin early saw the necessity of these; and about 
 the year 1738 formed the first fire company in^ 
 this city. This example was soon followed by 
 others; and there are now numerous fire compa- 
 nies in the city and liberties. To these may be 
 attributed, in a great degree, the activity in ex- 
 tinguishing fires for which the citizens of Phila- 
 delphia are distinguished, and the inconsiderable 
 damage which this city has sustained from this 
 cause. Some time after, Franklin suggested the 
 plan of an association for insuring houses from 
 loss by fire, which was adopted, and the associa- 
 tion continues to this day. The advantages ex- 
 perienced from it have been great. 
 
 From the first establishment of Pennsylvania, 
 a spirit of dispute appears to have prevailed 
 amongst its inhabitants. During the lifetime of 
 William Penn, the Constitution had been three 
 times altered. After this period, the history of 
 Pennsylvania is little else than a recital of the 
 quarrels between the Proprietaries, or their Gov- 
 ernors, and the Assembly. The Proprietaries 
 contended for the right of exempting their lands 
 from taxes; to which the Assembly would by no 
 means consent. This subject of dispute inter- 
 fered in almost every question, and prevented 
 ; the most salutary laws from being enacted. This 
 at times subjected the people to great inconve- 
 niences. In the year 1744, during a war be- 
 tween France and Great Britain, some French 
 
108 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 and Indians had made inroads upon the frontier 
 inhabitants of the Province, who were unprovi- 
 ded for such an attack. It became necessary 
 that the citizens should arm for their defence. 
 Governor Thomas recommended to the Assem- 
 bly, who were then sitting-, to pass a militia law. 
 To this they would agree only upon condition 
 that he should give his assent to certain laws, 
 which appeared to them calculated to promote 
 the interests of the people. As he thought these 
 laws would be injurious to the Proprietaries, he 
 refused his assent to them; and the Assembly 
 broke up without passing a militia law. The 
 situation of the Province was at this time truly 
 alarming; exposed to the continual inroad of "an 
 enemy, destitute of every means of defence. At 
 this crisis Franklin stepped forth, and proposed 
 to a meeting of the citizens of Philadelphia, a 
 plan of a voluntary association for the defence of 
 the Province. This was approved of, and signed 
 by twelve hundred persons immediately. Copies 
 were instantly circulated throughout the Prov- 
 ince, and in a short time the number of signers 
 amounted to ten thousand. Franklin was chosen 
 Colonel of the Philadelphia regiment; but he did 
 not think proper to accept of the honor. 
 
 Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the 
 greater part of his attention for some years. He 
 engaged in a course of electrical experiments, 
 with all the ardor and thirst for discovery which 
 characterised the philosophers of that day. Of 
 all the branches of experimental philosophy, 
 electricity had been least explored. The attrac- 
 tive power of amber is mentioned by Theophras- 
 tus and Pliny, and from them by later naturalists. 
 In the year 1600, Gilbert, an English physician, 
 enlarged considerably the catalogue of substan- 
 ces which have the property of attracting light 
 
.LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 109 
 
 bodies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, a burgomaster of 
 Magdeburg, celebrated as the inventor of the air 
 pump, Dr. Wall, and Sir Isaac Newton, added 
 some facts. Guericke first observed the repul- 
 sive power of electricity, and the light and noise 
 produced by it. In 1709, Hawesbec communi- 
 cated some important observations and experi- 
 ments to the world. For several years electri- 
 city was entirely neglected, until Mr. Grey ap- 
 plied himself to it in 1728, with great assiduity* 
 He and his friend Mr. Wheeler made a great va- 
 riety of experiments; in which they demonstra- 
 ted, that electricity may be communicated from 
 one body to another, even without being in con- 
 tact, and in this way may be conducted to a 
 great distance. Mr. Grey afterwards found, that 
 by suspending rods of iron by silk or hair lines, 
 and bringing an excited tube under them, sparks 
 might be drawn, and a light perceived at the ex- 
 tremities in the dark. M< du Faye, intendant of 
 the French king's gardens, made a number of 
 experiments, which added not a little to the 
 science* He made the discovery of two kinds of 
 electricity, which he called vitreous and resinous; 
 the former produced by rubbing glass, the latter 
 from excited sulphur, sealingwax, &c. But this 
 idea he afterwards gave up as erroneous. Be- 
 tween the years 1739 and 1742, Desauguliers 
 made a number of experiments, but added little 
 of importance. He first used the terms conduc- 
 tors and electrics per se. In 1742, several inge- 
 nious Germans engaged in this subject; of these, 
 the principal were, Professor Boze, of Wittem- 
 berg, Professor Winkler, of Leipsic, Gordon, a 
 Scotch Benedictine monk, professor of philoso- 
 phy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf, of Berlin. The 
 result of their researches astonished the philoso- 
 phers of Europe. Their apparatus was large, and 
 10 
 
110 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 by means of it they were enabled to collect large 
 quantities of the electric fluid, and thus to pro- 
 duce phenomena which had been hitherto unob- 
 served. They killed small birds, and set spirits 
 on fire. Their experiments excited the curiosity 
 of other philosophers. Collinson, about the year 
 1745, sent to the Library Company of Philadel- 
 phia an account of these experiments, together 
 with a tube, and directions how to use it. Frank- 
 lin, with some of his friends, immediately enga- 
 ged in a course of experiments; the result of 
 which is well known. He was enabled to make 
 a number of important discoveries; and to pro- 
 pose theories to account for various phenomena, 
 which have been universally adopted, and which 
 bid* fair to endure for ages. His observations he 
 communicated, in a series of letters, to his friend 
 Collinson; the first of which is dated March 28, 
 1747. In these he shows the power of points in 
 drawing and- throwing off the electrical matter, 
 which had hitherto escaped the, notice of elec- 
 tricians. He also made the grand discovery of a 
 plus and minus, or of a positive and negative state 
 of electricity. We give him the honor of this 
 without hesitation; although the English have 
 claimed it for their countryman, Dr. Watson. 
 Watson's paper is dated January 21 , 1748; Frank- 
 lin's July 11, 1747; several months prior. Short- 
 ly after, Franklin, from his principles of the plus 
 and minus state, explained in a satisfactory man- 
 ner, the phenomena of the Leyden phial, first 
 observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by Professor Mus- 
 chenbroeck, of Leyden, which had much per- 
 plexed philosophers. He showed clearly, that 
 the bottle, when charged, contained no more 
 electricity than before, but that as much was ta- 
 ken from one side as was thrown on the other; 
 and that, to discharge it, nothing was necessary 
 
. LIFE OF FRANKLIN. Ill 
 
 but to produce a communication between the 
 two' sides by which the equilibrium might be re- 
 stored, and that then no signs of electricity 
 would remain. He afterwards 'demonstrated, by 
 experiments, that the electricity did not reside 
 In the coating, as had been supposed, but in the 
 pores of the glass itself. After a phial was 
 charged, he removed the coating, and found that 
 upon applying a new coating the shock might 
 still be received. In the year 1749, he first sug- 
 gested his idea of explaining the phenomena of 
 thunder gusts, and of the aurora borealis, upon 
 electrical principles. He points out many par- 
 ticulars in which lightning and electricity agree; 
 and he adduces many facts, and reasonings from 
 facts, in support of his positions. In the same 
 year he conceived the astonishingly bold and 
 grand idea of ascertaining the truth of his doc- 
 trine, by actually drawing down the lightning, 
 by means of sharp pointed iron rods raised into 
 the regions of the clouds. Even in this uncer- 
 tain state, his passion to be useful to mankind 
 displays itself in a powerful manner. ' Admitting 
 the identity of electricity and lightning, and 
 knowing the power of points in repelling bodies 
 charged with electricity, and in conducting their 
 fire silently and imperceptibly, he suggested the 
 idea of securing houses, ships, ^c. from being 
 damaged by lightning, by erecting pointed rods, 
 that should rise some feet above the most eleva- 
 ted part, and descend some feet into the ground 
 or the water. The effect of these, he concluded, 
 would be either to prevent a stroke by repelling 
 the cloud beyond the striking distance, or by 
 drawing off the electrical fire which it contain- 
 ed; or, if they could not effect this, they would at 
 least conduct the electric matter to the earth, 
 without any injury to the building. 
 
112 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 It was not until the summer of 1752, that he 
 was enabled to complete his grand and unparal- 
 leled discovery by experiment. This plan which 
 he had originally proposed, was, to erect on some 
 high tower, or other elevated place, a sentrybox, 
 from which should rise a pointed iron rod, insu- 
 lated by being fixed in a cake of resin. Electri- 
 fied clouds passing over this, would, he conceiv- 
 ed, impart to it a portion of their electricity, 
 which would be rendered evident to the senses 
 by sparks being emitted, when a key, the knuc- 
 kle, or other conductor, was presented to it. 
 Philadelphia at this time afforded no opportunity 
 of trying an experiment of this kind. While 
 Franklin was waiting for the erection of a spire, 
 it occurred to him that he might have more 
 ready access to the region of clouds by means of 
 a common kite. He prepared one by fastening 
 two cross sticks to a silk handkerchief, which 
 would not suffer so much from the rain as paper. 
 To the upright sticki was affixed an iron point. 
 The string was, as usual, of hemp, except the 
 lower end, which was silk. Where the hempen 
 string terminated, a key was fastened. With 
 this apparatus, on the appearance of a thunder 
 gust approaching, he went out into the commons, 
 accompanied by his son, to whom alone he com- 
 municated his intentions, well knowing the ridi- 
 cule which, too generally for the interest of 
 science, awaits unsuccessful experiments in phi- 
 losophy. He placed himself under a shade, to 
 avoid the rain^-his kite was raised — a thunder- 
 cloud passed over it — no sign of electricity ap^ 
 peared. He almost despaired of success, when, 
 suddenly, he observed the loose fibres of his 
 string to move towards an erect position. He 
 now presented his knuckle to the key, and re- 
 ceived a strong spark. How exquisite must his 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 113 
 
 sensations have been at this moment! On this 
 experiment depesded the fate of his theory. If 
 he succeeded, his name would rank high among 
 those who had improved science; if he failed, he 
 must inevitably be subjected to the derision of 
 mankind, or, what is worse, their pity, as a well- 
 meaning man, but a weak, silly projector. The 
 anxiety with which he looked for the result of 
 his experiment may be easily conceived. Doubts 
 and despair had begun to prevail, when the fact 
 was ascertained in so clear a manner, that even 
 the most incredulous could no longer withhold 
 their assent. Repeated sparks were drawn from 
 the key, a phial was charged, a shock given, and 
 all the experiments made which are usually per- 
 formed with electricity. 
 
 About a month before this period, some inge- 
 nious Frenchman had completed the discovery in 
 the manner originally proposed by Dr. Franklin. 
 The letters which he sent to Mr. Collinson, it is 
 said, were refused a place in the Transactions of 
 the Royal Society of London. However this may 
 be, Collinson published them in a separate 
 volume, under the title of "New Experiments 
 and Observations on Electricity made at Phila- 
 delphia, in America." They were read with 
 avidity, and soon translated into different lan- 
 guages. A very incorrect French translation fell 
 into the hands t>f the celebrated Buffon, who, 
 notwithstanding the disadvantages under which 
 the work labored, was much pleased with it, and 
 repeated the experiments with success. He pre- 
 vailed on his friend, M. D'Alibard, to give his 
 countrymen a more correct translation of the 
 works of the American electrician. This con- 
 tributed much towards spreading a knowledge of 
 Franklin's principles in France. The King, 
 Leuis XV. hearing of these experiments, ex- 
 • 10* 
 
114 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 pressed a wish to be a spectator of them. A 
 course of experiments was given at the seat of 
 the Due D'Ayen, at St. Germain, by M. de Lor. 
 The applauses which the King bestowed upon 
 Franklin excited in Buffon, D'Alibard, and De 
 Lor, an earnest desire of ascertaining the truth 
 of his theory of thunder gusts. Buffon erected 
 his apparatus on the tower of Montbar, M. 
 D'Alibard at Mary-la-ville, and De Lor at his 
 house in the Estrapade at Paris, some of the 
 highest ground in that capital. D'Alibard's ma- 
 chine first showed signs of electricity. On the 
 10th of May, 1752, a thundercloud passed over 
 it, in the absence of M. D'Alibard, and a num- 
 ber of sparks were drawn from it by Coiffier, a 
 joiner, with whom D'Alibard had left directions 
 how to proceed, and by M. Raulet, the prior of 
 Mary-la-ville. An account of this experiment 
 was given to the Royal Academy of Sciences, 
 by 31. D'Alibard, in a Memoir, dated May 13th, 
 1752. On the 18th»of May, M. De Lor proved 
 equajly successful with the apparatus erected at 
 his own house. These philosophers soon excited 
 those of other parts of Europe to repeat the ex- 
 periment, amongst whom none signalized them- 
 selves more than Father Beccaria, of Turin, to 
 whose observations science is much indebted. 
 Even the cold regions of Russia were penetrated 
 by the ardor for discovery. Professor Richman 
 bade fair to add much to the stock of knowledge 
 on this subject, when an unfortunate flash from his 
 conductor put a period to his existence. The 
 friends of science will long remember with re- 
 gret the amiable martyr to electricity. 
 
 By these experiments Franklin's theory was 
 established in the most convincing manner. 
 When the truth of it could no longer be doubted, 
 envy and vanity endeavored to detract from its 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 115 
 
 merit. That an American, an inhabitant of the 
 obscure city of Philadelphia, the name of which 
 was hardly known, should be able to make dis- 
 coveries, and to frame theories, which had es- 
 caped the notice of the enlightened philosophers 
 of Europe, was too mortifying to be admitted. 
 He must certainly have taken the idea from some 
 one else. An American, a being of an inferior 
 order, make discoveries! — Impossible. It was 
 said, that the Abbe Noliet, 1743, had suggested 
 the idea of the similarity of lightning and elec- 
 tricity in his Leqons de Physique. It is true that 
 the Abbe mentions the idea, but he throws it 
 out as a bare conjecture, and proposes no mode 
 of ascertaining the truth of it. He himself ac- 
 knowledges, that Franklin first entertained the 
 bold thought of bringing lightning from the heav- 
 ens, by means of pointed iron rods fixed in the air. 
 The similarity of lightning and electricity is so 
 strong, that we need not be surprised at notice 
 being taken of it, as soon as* electrical phenom- 
 ena became familiar. We find it mentioned by 
 Dr. Wall and Mr. Grey, while the science was 
 in its infancy. But the honor of forming a regu- 
 lar theory of thunder gusts, of suggesting a mode 
 of determining the truth of it by experiments, 
 and of putting these experiments in practice, 
 and thus establishing the theory upon a firm and 
 solid basis, is incontestibly due to Franklin. 
 D'Alibard, who made the first experiments in 
 France, says, that he only followed the track 
 which Franklin had pointed out. 
 
 It has been of late asserted, that- the honor of 
 completing the experiment with the electrical 
 kite does not belong to Franklin. Some late 
 English paragraphs have attributed it to some 
 Frenchman, whose name they do not mention; 
 and the Abbe Bertholon gives it to M. de Romas, 
 
116 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 assessor to the presideal of Nirac: the English 
 paragraphs probably refer to the same person. 
 But a very slight attention will convince us of 
 the injustice of this procedure: Dr. Franklin's 
 experiment was made in June, 1752; and his 
 letter, giving an account of it, is dated October 
 19, 1752. M. de Romas made his first attempt 
 on the 14th of May, 1753, but was not success- 
 ful until the 7th of June; a year after Franklin 
 had completed the discovery, and when it was 
 known to all the philosophers in Europe. 
 
 Besides these great principles, Franklin's let- 
 ters on electricity contain a number of facts and 
 hints, which have contributed greatly towards 
 reducing this branch of knowledge to a science. 
 His friend Mr. Kinnersley communicated to him 
 a discovery of the different kinds of electricity, 
 excited by rubbing glass and sulphur. This, we 
 have said, was first observed by M. Du Faye; but 
 it was for many years neglected. The philoso- 
 phers were disposed to account for the phenome- 
 na, rather from a difference in the quantity of 
 electricity collected, and even Du Faye himself 
 seems at last to have adopted this doctrine. 
 Franklin at first entertained tne same idea; but, 
 upon repeating the experiments, he perceived 
 that Mr. Kinnersley was right; and that the 
 vitreous and resinous electricity of Du Faye were 
 nothing more than the positive and negative states 
 which he had before observed; and that the glass 
 globe charged positively, or increased the quan- 
 tity of electricity on the prime conductor, while 
 the globe of sulphur diminished its natural quan- 
 tity, or charged negatively. These experiments 
 and observations opened a new field for investi- 
 gation, upon which electricians entered with 
 avidity; and their labors have added much to the 
 stock of our knowledge. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 117 
 
 In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a 
 course of experiments, to determine the state of 
 electricity in the clouds. From a number of ex- 
 periments he formed this conclusion: — "That the 
 clouds of a thunder gust are most commonly in a 
 negative state of electricity, but sometimes in a 
 positive state;" and from this it follows, as a ne- 
 cessary consequence, "that for the most part, in 
 thunder strokes, it is the earth that strikes into 
 the clouds, and not the clouds that strike into 
 the earth." The letter containing these observa- 
 tions is dated in September, 1753; and yet the 
 discovery of ascending thunder has been said to 
 be of a modern date, and has been attributed to 
 the Abbe Bertholon, who published his Memoir 
 on the siibject in 1776. 
 
 Franklin's letters have been translated into 
 most of the European languages, and into Latin. 
 In proportion as they have become known, his 
 principles have been adopted. Some opposition 
 was made to his theories, particularly by the 
 Abbe Nollet, who was, however, but feebly sup- 
 ported, while the first philosophers in Europe 
 stepped forth in defence of Franklin's principles, 
 amongst whom D'Alibard and Beccaria were the 
 most distinguished. The opposition has gradually 
 ceased, and the Franklinian system is now uni- 
 versally adopted, where science flourishes. 
 
 The important practical use which Franklin 
 made of his discoveries, the securing of houses 
 from injury by lightning, has been already men- 
 tioned. Pointed conductors are now very com- 
 mon in America; but prejudice has hitherto pre- 
 vented their general introduction into Europe, 
 notwithstanding the most undoubted proofs of 
 their utility have been given. But mankind can 
 with difficulty be brought to lay aside established 
 practices, or to adopt new ones. And perhaps 
 
118 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 we have more reason to be surprised that a prac- 
 tice, however rational, which was proposed 
 about forty years ago, should in that time have 
 been adopted in so many places, than that it has 
 not universally prevailed. It is only by degrees 
 that the great body cf mankind can be led into 
 new practices, however salutary their tendency. 
 It is now nearly eighty years since inoculation 
 was introduced into Europe and America; and 
 it is so far from being general at present, that it 
 will require one or two centuries to render it so. 
 
 In the year 1745, Franklin published an ac- 
 count of his newly invented Pennsylvania fire- 
 places, in which he minutely and accurately 
 ■states the advantages of different kinds of fire- 
 places; and endeavors to show, that the one 
 which he describes is to be preferred to any 
 other. This contrivance has' given rise to the 
 open stoves now in general use, which, however, 
 differ from it in construction, particularly in 
 not having an air-box at the back, through which 
 a constant supply of air, warmed in its passage, 
 is thrown into the room. The advantages of this 
 are, that as a stream of warm air is continually 
 flowing into th-e room, less fuel is necessary to 
 preserve a proper temperature, and the room may 
 be so tightened as that no air may enter through 
 the cracks — the consequences of which are colds, 
 toothaches, &c. 
 
 Although philosophy was a principal object of 
 Franklin's pursuit for several years, he confined 
 himself not to this. In the year 1747, he be- 
 came a member of the general assembly of Penn- 
 sylvania, as a burgess for the city of Philadel- 
 phia. Warm disputes subsisted at this time be- 
 tween the Assembly and the Proprietaries; each 
 contending for what they conceived to be their 
 ■just rights. Franklin, a friend to the rights of 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 119 
 
 man from his infancy, soon distinguished himself 
 a steady opponent of the unjust schemes of the 
 Proprietaries. He was soon looked up to as the 
 head of the opposition; and to him have been at- 
 tributed many of the spirited replies of the As- 
 sembly to the messages of the Governors. His in- 
 fluence in the body was very great. This arose 
 not from any superior powers of eloquence; he 
 spoke but seldom, and he never was known to 
 make any thing like an elaborate harangue. His 
 speeches often consisted of a single sentence, of 
 a well-told story, the moral of which was ob- 
 viously to the point. He never attempted the 
 flowery fields of oratory. His manner was plain 
 and mild. His style in speaking was, like that 
 of his writings, simple, unadorned, and remark- 
 ably concise. With this plain manner, and his 
 penetrating and solid judgment, he was able to 
 confound the most eloquent and subtle of his ad- 
 versaries, to confirm the opinions of his friends, 
 and to make converts of the unprejudiced who 
 had opposed him. With a single observation, 
 he has rendered of no avail an elegant and 
 lengthy discourse, and determined the fate of a 
 question of importance. 
 
 But he was not contented with thus supporting 
 the rights of the people. He wished to render 
 them permanently secure, which can only be 
 done by making their value properly known; and 
 this must depend upon increasing and extending 
 information to every class of men. We have 
 already seen that he was the founder of the pub- 
 lic library, which contributed greatly towards 
 improving the minds of the citizens. But this 
 was not sufficient. The schools then subsisting 
 were in general of little utility. The teachers 
 were men ill qualified for the important duty 
 which they had undertaken; and, after all, noth.-' 
 
120 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 ing- more could be obtained than the rudiments 
 of a common English education. Franklin drew 
 up a plan of an academy, to be erected in the 
 city of Philadelphia, suited to "the state of an 
 infant country;" but in this, as in all his plans, 
 he confined not his views to the present time 
 only. He looked forward to the period when an 
 institution on an enlarged plan would become 
 necessary. With this view, he considered his 
 academy as "a foundation for posterity to erect 
 a seminary of learning more extensive and suit- 
 able to future circumstances." In pursuance of 
 this plan, the constitutions were drawn up and 
 signed on the 13th of November, 1749. In these, 
 twenty-four of the most respectable citizens of 
 Philadelphia were named as trustees. In the 
 choice of these, and in the formation of his plan, 
 Franklin is said to have consulted chiefly with 
 Thomas Hopkinson, Esq. the Rev. Richard 
 Peters, then secretary of the province, Tench 
 Francis, Esq. attorney-general, and Dr. Phineas 
 Bond. 
 
 The following article shows a spirit of benevo- 
 lence worthy of imitation ; and for the honor 
 of our city, we hope that it continues to be in 
 force. 
 
 "In case of the disability of the Rector, or any- 
 master (established on the foundation by receiv- 
 ing a certain salary) through sickness, or any 
 other natural infirmity, whereby he may be re- 
 duced to poverty, the trustees shall have power 
 to contribute to his support, in proportion to 
 his distress and merit, and the stock in their 
 hands." 
 
 The last clause of the fundamental rule is ex- 
 pressed in language so tender and benevolent, so 
 truly parental, that it will do everlasting honor 
 to the hearts and heads of the founders. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 121 
 
 "It is hoped and expected that the trustees 
 will make it their pleasure, and in some degree 
 their business, to visit the academy often; to en- 
 courage and countenance the youth, to counte- 
 nance and assist the masters, and, by all means 
 in their power, advance the usefulness and repu- 
 tation of the design; that they will look on the 
 students as, in some measure, their own chil- 
 dren, treat them with familiarity and affection; 
 and, when they have behaved well, gone through 
 their studies, and are to enter the world, they 
 shall zealously unite, and make all the interest 
 that can be made to promote and establish them, 
 whether in business, offices, marriages, or any 
 other thing for their advantage, in preference 
 to all other persons whatsoever, even of equal 
 merit." 
 
 The constitution being signed and made pub- 
 lic, with the names of the gentlemen proposing 
 themselves as trustees and founders, the design 
 was so well approved of by the public-spirited 
 citizens of Philadelphia, that the sum of eight 
 hundred pounds per annum, for five years, was 
 in the course of a few weeks subscribed for car- 
 rying it into execution; and in the beginning of 
 January following (viz. 1750) three of the schools 
 were opened, namely, the Latin and Greek 
 schools, the Mathematical school, and the Eng- 
 lish school. In pursuance of an article in the 
 original plan, a school for educating sixty boys 
 and thirty girls (in the charter since called the 
 Charitable School) was opened; and amidst all 
 the difficulties with which the trustees have strug- 
 gled in respect to their funds, has still been con- 
 tinued full for the space of forty years; so that 
 allowing three years education for each boy and 
 girl admitted into it, which is the general rule, 
 at least twelve hundred children have received 
 11 F 
 
122 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 in it the chief part of their education, who might 
 otherwise, in a great measure, have been left 
 without the means of instruction. And many of 
 those who have been thus educated, are now to 
 be found among the most useful and reputable 
 citizens of this state. 
 
 This institution, thus successfully begun, con- 
 tinued daily to flourish, to the great satisfaction 
 of Dr. Franklin; who, notwithstanding the mul- 
 tiplicity of his other engagements and pursuits, 
 at that busy stage of his life, was a constant at- 
 tendant at the monthly visitations and examina- 
 tions of the schools, and made it his particular 
 study, by means of his extensive correspondence 
 abroad, to advance the reputation of the semin- 
 ary, and to draw students and scholars to it from 
 different parts of America and the West Indies. 
 Through the interposition of his benevolent and 
 learned friend, Peter Collinson, of London, upon 
 the application of the trustees, a charter of in- 
 corporation, dated July 13, 1753, was obtained 
 from the honorable proprietors of Pennsylvania, 
 Thomas Penn and Richard Penn, Esqrs. accom- 
 panied with a liberal benefaction of five hundred 
 pounds sterling; and Dr. Franklin now began in 
 good earnest to please himself with the hopes of 
 a speedy accomplishment of his original design, 
 viz. the establishment of a perfect institution, 
 upon the plan of the European colleges and uni- 
 versities; for which his academy was intended as 
 a nursery or foundation. To elucidate this fact, 
 is a matter of considerable importance in respect 
 to the memory and character of Dr. Franklin as 
 a philosopher, and as the friend and patron of 
 learning and science; for, notwithstanding what 
 is expressly declared by him in the preamble 
 to the constitutions, viz.' that the academy was 
 begun for "teaching the Latin and Greek Ian- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 123 
 
 guages, with all useful branches of the arts and 
 sciences, suitable to the state of an infant 
 country, and laying a foundation for posterity to 
 erect a seminary of learning more extensive, 
 and suitable to their future circumstances;" yet 
 it has been suggested of late, as upon Dr. Frank- 
 lin's authority, that the Latin and Greek, or the 
 dead languages, are an incumbrance upon a 
 scheme of liberal education, and that the en- 
 grafting or founding a college, or more extensive 
 seminary, upon his academy, was without his 
 approbation or agency, and gave him discontent. 
 If the reverse of this* does not already appear 
 from what has been quoted above, the following 
 letters will put the matter beyond dispute. They 
 were written by him to a gentleman, who had at 
 that time published the idea of a college, suited 
 to the circumstances of a young country (mean- 
 ing New Yorkj a copy of which having been sent 
 to Dr. Franklin for his opinion, gave rise to that 
 correspondence which terminated, about a year 
 afterwards, in erecting the college upon the 
 foundation of the academy, and establishing that 
 gentleman at the head of both, where he still 
 continues, after a period of thirty-six years, to 
 preside with distinguished reputation. 
 
 From these letters also, the state of the aca- 
 demy, at that time, will be seen. 
 
 "sir, "Philad. April 19, 1753. 
 
 "I received your favor of the 11th instant, 
 with your new * piece on Education, which I 
 shall carefully peruse, and give you my senti- 
 ments of it, as you desire, by next post. 
 
 "I believe*the young gentlemen, your pupils, 
 may be entertained and instructed here, in ma- 
 thematics and philosophy, to satisfaction. Mr, 
 
 * A general idea of the College of Mirania. 
 
194 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Alisonf (who was educated at Glasgow) has been 
 long accustomed to teach the latter, and Mr. 
 GrewJ the former; and I think their pupils make 
 great progress. Mr. Alison has the care of the 
 Latin and Greek school, but as he has now three 
 good assistants, § he can very well afford some 
 hours every day for the instruction of those who 
 are engaged in higher studies. The mathemati- 
 cal school is pretty well furnished with instru- 
 ments. The English library is a good one; and 
 we have belonging to it a middling apparatus for 
 experimental philosophy, and propose speedily 
 to complete it. The Loganian library, one of 
 the best collections in America, will shortly be 
 opened; so that neither books nor instruments 
 will be wanting; and as we are determined al- 
 ways to give good salaries, we have reason to 
 believe we may have always an opportunity of 
 choosing good masters; upon which, indeed, the 
 success of the whole depends. We are obliged 
 to you for your kind offers in this respect, and 
 when you are settled in England, we may occa- 
 sionally make use of your friendship and judg- 
 ment. 
 
 "If it suits your convenience to visit Philadel- 
 phia before you return to Europe, I shall be ex- 
 tremely glad to see and converse with you here, 
 as well as to correspond with you after your set- 
 tlement in England; for an acquaintance and 
 communication with men of learning, virtue, 
 and public spirit, is one of my greatest enjoy- 
 ments. 
 
 "I do not know whether you ever happened to 
 
 t The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Alison,, afterwards D. D. 
 and vice-provost of the college. 
 
 X Mr. Theophilus Grew, afterwards professor of mathematics in 
 the college. 
 
 $ Those assistants were at that time, Mr. Charles Thomson, late 
 secretary of Congress, Mr. Paul Jackson, and Mr. Jacob Duche. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 135 
 
 see the first proposals 1 made for erecting this 
 academy. I send them enclosed. They had (how- 
 ever imperfect) the desired success, being follow- 
 ed by a subscription of four thousand pounds, to- 
 wards carrying" them into execution. And as we 
 are fond of receiving advice, and are daily im- 
 proving by experience, I am in hopes we shall, 
 in a few years, seca perfect institution. 
 
 "I am, very respectfully, &c. 
 
 "B. FRANKLIN." 
 "Mr. W. Smith, Long Island." , 
 
 "Sir, "Philad. May 3, 1753. 
 
 "Mr. Peters has just now been with me, and 
 we have compared, notes on your new piece. 
 We find, nothing in the scheme of education, 
 however excellent, but what is in our opinion, 
 very practicable. The great difficulty will be to 
 find the Aratus, * and other suitable persons, to 
 carry it into execution; but such may be had if 
 proper encouragement be given. We have both 
 received great pleasure in the perusal of it. For 
 my part, I know not when I have read a piece 
 that has more affected me — so noble and just are 
 the sentiments, so warm and. animated the lan- 
 guage; yet as censure from your friends may be 
 of more use, as well as more agreeable to you 
 than praise, I ought to mention, that I wish you 
 had omitted not only the quotation from the Re- 
 view, f which you are now justly dissatisfied 
 
 * The name given to the principal or head of the ideal eollege, 
 the system of education in which hath nevertheless been nearly 
 realized, or followed as a model, in the college and academy of 
 Philadelphia, and some other American seminaries, for marty 
 years past. 
 
 t The quotation alluded to (from the London Monthly Review 
 for 1749,) was judged to reflect too severely on the discipline an* 1 
 government of the English universities of Oxford and Cambridge, 
 and was expunged from the following editions of this work. 
 11* 
 
136 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 with, but those expressions of resentment against 
 your adversaries, in pages 65 and 79. In such 
 cases, the noblest victory is obtained by neglect, 
 and by shining on. 
 
 "Mr. Allen has been out of town these ten 
 days; but before he went he directed me to pro- 
 cure him six copies of your piece. Mr. Peters 
 has taken ten. He proposed to have written to 
 you; but omits it, as he expects so soon to have 
 the pleasure of seeing you here. He desires me 
 to present his affectionate compliments to you, 
 and to assure you, that you will be very welcome 
 to him. I shall only say, that you may depend 
 on my doing all in my power to make your visit 
 to Philadelphia agreeable to you. 
 " I am, &c. 
 
 «Mr. Smith. « B. FRANKLIN." 
 
 "Philad. Nov. 27, 1753. 
 
 "DEAR, SIR, 
 
 " Having written you fully, via Bristol, I have 
 now little to add. Matters relating to the aca- 
 demy remain in statu quo. The trustees would 
 be glad to see a rector established there, but 
 they dread entering into new engagements till 
 they are got out of debt; and I have not yet got 
 them wholly over to my opinion, that a good pro- 
 fessor, or teacher of the higher branches of learn- 
 ing, would draw so many scholars as to pay great 
 part, if not the whole of his salary. Thus, un- 
 less the proprietors (of the province) shall think 
 fit to put the finishing hand to our institution, it 
 must, I fear, wait some few years longer before 
 it can arrive at that state of perfection, which to 
 me it seems now capable of; and all the pleasure 
 I promised myself in seeing you settled among 
 us, vanishes into smoke. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 127 
 
 M But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that 
 no endeavors of his shall be wanting; and he 
 hopes with the archbishop's assistance, to be 
 able to prevail with our proprietors. * I pray 
 God grant them success. 
 
 "My son presents his affectionate regards, 
 with, 
 
 " Dear Sir, yours, &c. 
 "B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 "P. S. I have not been favored with a line 
 from you since your arrival in England." 
 
 "Philad. April 18, 1754. 
 "dear sir, 
 
 " I have had but one letter from you since 
 your arrival in England, which was but a short 
 one, via Boston, dated Oct. 13th, acquainting me 
 that you had written largely by Captain Davis.— 
 Davis was lost, and with him your. letters, to my 
 great disappointment. — Mesnard and Gibbon 
 have since arrived here, and I hear nothing from 
 you. My comfort is, an imagination that you 
 only omit writing because you are coming, and 
 propose to tell me every thing viva voce. So not 
 knowing whether this letter will reach you, and 
 hoping either to see or hear from you by the 
 Myrtilla, Captain Budden's ship, which is daily 
 expected, I only add, that I am, with great es- 
 teem and affection, 
 
 "Yours, &c. 
 " Mr. Smith. "B. FRANKLIN." 
 
 *Upon the application of Archbishop Herring and P. Collinson, 
 Esq. at Dr. Franklin's request (aided by the letters of Mr. Allen 
 and Mr. Peters,) the Hon. Thomas Penn, Esq. subscribed an an- 
 nual sum, and afterwards gave at least 5,000/. to the founding or 
 engrafting the college upon the academy. 
 
129 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 About a month after the date of this last letter, 
 the gentleman to whom it was addressed arrived 
 in Philadelphia, and was immediately placed at 
 the head of the seminary; whereby Dr. Frank- 
 lin and the other trustees were enabled to prose- 
 cute their plan, for perfecting 1 the institution, 
 and opening the college upon the large and lib- 
 eral foundation on which it now stands; for 
 which purpose they obtained their additional 
 charter, dated May 27th, 1755. 
 
 Thus far we thought it proper to exhibit in one 
 view Dr. Franklin's services in the foundation 
 and establishment of this seminary. He soon 
 afterwards embarked for England, in the public 
 service of his country; and having been general- 
 ly employed abroad, in the like service, for the 
 greatest part of the remainder of his life (as will 
 appear in our subsequent account of the same) he 
 had but few opportunities of taking any further 
 active part in the affairs of the seminary, until 
 his final return in the year 1785, when he found 
 its charters violated, and his ancient colleagues, 
 the original founders, deprived of their trust, by 
 an act of the legislature; and although his own 
 name had been inserted amongst the new trus- 
 tees, yet he declined to take his seat among 
 them, or any concern in the management of their 
 affairs, till the institution was restored by law to 
 its original owners. He then assembled his old 
 colleagues at his own house, and being chosen 
 their president, all their future meetings were, 
 at his request, held there, till within a few months 
 of his death, when with reluctance, and at their 
 desire, lest he might be too much injured by his 
 attention to their business, he suffered them to 
 meet at the college. 
 
 Franklin not only gave birth to many useful in- 
 stitutions himself, but he was also instrumental 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 129 
 
 in promoting those "which had originated with 
 other men. About the year 1752, an eminent 
 physician of this city, Dr. Bond, considering the 
 deplorable state of the poor, when visited with 
 disease, conceived the idea of establishing an 
 hospital. Notwithstanding very great exertions 
 on his part, he was able to interest few people 
 so far in his benevolent plan, as to obtain sub- 
 scriptions from them. Unwilling thai his scheme 
 should prove abortive, he sought the aid of Frank- 
 lin, who readily engaged in the business, both by 
 using his influence with his friends, and by stat- 
 ing the advantageous influence of the proposed 
 institution in his paper. These efforts were at- 
 tended with success. Considerable sums were 
 subscribed; but they were still short of what was 
 necessary. Franklin now made another exer- 
 tion. He applied to the Assembly; and, after 
 some opposition, obtained leave to bring in a 
 bill specifying, that as soon as two thousand 
 pounds were subscribed, the same sum should be 
 drawn from the treasury by the speaker's war- 
 rant, to be applied to the purposes of the insti- 
 tution. The opposition, as the sum was granted 
 upon a contingency, which they supposed would 
 never take place, were silent, and the bill pass- 
 ed* The friends of the plan now redoubled their 
 efforts, to obtain subscriptions to the amount 
 stated in the bill, and were soon successful. 
 This was the foundation of the Pennsylvanian 
 Hospital, which, with the Bettering-House and 
 Dispensary, bears ample testimony of the hu- 
 manity of the citizens of Philadelphia. 
 
 Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well 
 in the office of postmaster, and had shown him- 
 self to be so well acquainted with the business of 
 that department, that it was thought expedient 
 to raise him to a more dignified station. In 1753 
 F2 
 
130 LTFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 he was appointed deputy post-master general for 
 the British colonies. The profits arising from 
 the postage of letters formed no inconsiderable 
 part of the revenue, which the crown of Great 
 Britain derived from these colonies. In the 
 hands of Franklin, it is said, that the post-office 
 in America yielded annually thrice as much as 
 that of Ireland. 
 
 The American colonies were much exposed to 
 depredations on their frontiers by the Indians; 
 and, more particularly, whenever a war took 
 place between France and England. The colo- 
 nies, individually, were either too weak to take 
 efficient measures for their own defence, or they 
 were unwilling to take upon themselves the 
 whole burden of erecting forts and maintaining 
 garrisons, whilst their neighbors, who partook 
 equally with themselves of the advantages, con- 
 tributed nothing to the expense. Sometimes also 
 the disputes, which subsisted between the gover- 
 nors and assemblies, prevented the adoption of 
 means of defence; as we have seen was the case 
 in Pennsylvania in 1745. To devise a plan of 
 union between the colonies, to regulate this and 
 other matters, appeared a desirable object. To 
 accomplish this, in the year 1754, commissioners 
 from New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Is- 
 land, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland 
 met at Albany. Dr. Franklin attended here, as 
 a commissioner from Pennsylvania, and produ- 
 ced a plan, which, from the place of meeting, has 
 been usually termed, "The Albany Plan of 
 Union." This proposed, that application should 
 be made for an act of parliament, to establish 
 in the colonies a general government, to be ad- 
 ministered by a president-general, appointed by 
 the crown, and by a grand council, consisting 
 of members, chosen by the representatives of 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 131 
 
 the different colonies; their number to be indirect 
 proportion to the sums paid by each colony into 
 the general treasury, with this restriction, that 
 no colony should have more than seven, nor less 
 than two representatives. The whole executive 
 authority was committed to the president-gene- 
 ral. The power of legislation was lodged in the 
 grand council and president-general jointly; his 
 consent being made necessary to passing a bill 
 into a law. The power vested in the president 
 and council was, to declare war and peace, and 
 to conclude treaties with the Indian nations; to 
 regulate trade with, and to make purchases of 
 vacant lands from them, either in the name of 
 the crown, or of the union; to settle new colo- 
 nies, to make laws for governing these, until 
 they should be erected into separate govern- 
 ments; and to raise troops, build forts, and fit 
 out armed vessels, and to use other means for 
 the general defence; and, to effect these things, 
 a power was given to make laws, laying such 
 duties, imposts, or taxes, as they should find ne- 
 cessary, and as would be least burdensome to the 
 people. All laws were to be sent to England for 
 the king's approbation; and, unless disapproved 
 of within three years, were to remain in force. 
 All officers of the land or sea service were to be 
 nominated by the president-general, and approv- 
 ed of by the general council; civil officers were 
 to be nominated by the council, and approved of 
 by the president. Such are the outlines of the 
 plan proposed, for the consideration of the con- 
 gress, by Dr. Franklin. After several days 
 discussion, it was unanimously agreed to by 
 the commissioners, a copy transmitted to each 
 assembly, and one to the king's council. The 
 fate of it was singular. It was disapproved of 
 by the ministry of Great Britain, because it 
 
132 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 gave too much power to the representatives of 
 the people; and it was rejected by every as- 
 sembly, as giving to the president-general, the 
 representative of the crown, an influence great- 
 er than appeared to them proper, in a plan 
 of government intended for freemen. Perhaps 
 this rejection, on both sides, is the strongest 
 proof that could be adduced of the excellence of 
 it, as suited to the situation of America and 
 Great Britain at that time. It appears to have 
 steered exactly in the middle, between the oppo- 
 site interests of both. 
 
 Whether the adoption of this plan would have 
 prevented the separation of America from Great 
 Britain is a question which might afford much 
 room for speculation. It may be said, that, by 
 enabling the colonies to defend themselves, it 
 would have removed the pretext upon which the 
 stamp act, tea act, and other acts of the British 
 parliament were passed; which excited a spirit 
 of opposition, and laid the foundation for the 
 separation of the two countries. But, on the 
 other hand, it must be admitted, that the restric- 
 tion laid by Great Britain upon our commerce, 
 obliging us to sell our produce to her citizens 
 only, and to take from them various articles, of 
 which, as our manufacturers were discouraged, 
 we stood in need, at a price greater than that 
 for which they could have been obtained from 
 other nations, mu3t inevitably produce dissatis- 
 faction, even though no duties were imposed by 
 the parliament; a circumstance which might 
 still have taken place. Besides,as the president- 
 general was to be appointed by the crown, he 
 must, of necessity, be, devoted to its views, and 
 would, therefore, refuse to assent to any laws, 
 however salutary to the community, which had 
 the most remote tendency to injure the interests 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIJV. 133 
 
 of his sovereign. Even should they receive his 
 assent, the approbation of the king was to be 
 necessary; who would indubitably, in every in- 
 stance, prefer the advantage of his own domin- 
 ions to that of his colonies. Hence would ensue 
 perpetual disagreements between the council 
 and the president-general, and thus between the 
 people of America and the crown of Great Bri- 
 tain: — while the colonies continued weak, they 
 would be obliged to submit, and as soon as they 
 acquired strength, they would become more ur- 
 gent in their demands, until, at length, they 
 would shake off the yoke, and declare them- 
 selves independent. 
 
 Whilst the French were in possession of 
 Canada, their trade with the natives extended 
 very far; even to the back of the British settle- 
 ments. They were disposed, from time to time, 
 to establish posts within the territory which the 
 English claimed as their own. Independent of 
 the injury to the fur trade, which was consider- 
 able, the colonies suffered this further inconve- 
 nience, that the Indians were frequently instiga- 
 ted to commit depredations on their frontiers. In 
 the year 1753, encroachments were made upon 
 the boundaries of Virginia. Remonstrances had 
 no effect. In the ensuing year, a body of men 
 was sent out under the command of Mr. Wash- 
 ington, who, though a very young man, had, by 
 his conduct in the preceding year, shown him- 
 self worthy of such an important trust. Whilst 
 marching to take possession of the post at the 
 junction of the Alleghany and Monongahela, he 
 was informed that the French had already erect* 
 ed a fort there. A detachment of their men 
 marched against him. He fortified himself as 
 strongly as time and circumstances would admit. 
 A superiority of numbers soon obliged him to 
 12 
 
134 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 surrender Fort Necessity. He obtained honorable 
 terms for himself and men, and returned to Vir- 
 ginia. The government of Great Britain now 
 thought it necessary to interfere. In the yeaF 
 1755, General Braddock, with some regiments 
 of regular troops and provincial levies, was sent 
 to dispossess the French of the posts upon which 
 they had seized. After the men were all ready, 
 a difficulty occurred, which had nearly prevent- 
 ed the expedition. This was the want of wag- 
 ons. Franklin now stepped forward, and with 
 the assistance of his son, in a little time procured 
 a hundred and fifty. Braddock unfortunately fell 
 into an ambuscade, and perished, with a number 
 of his men. Washington, who had accompanied 
 him as an aid-de-camp, and had warned him, in 
 vain, of his danger, now displayed great military 
 talents in effecting a retreat of the remains of 
 the army, and in forming a junction with the 
 rear, under Colonel Dunbar, upon whom the 
 chief command now devolved. With some diffi- 
 culty they brought their little body to a place of 
 safety, but they found it necessary to destroy 
 their wagons and baggage, to prevent them 
 from falling into the hands of the enemy. For 
 the wagons, which he had furnished, Franklin 
 had given bonds to a large amount. The owners 
 declared their intention of obliging him to make 
 a restitution of their property. Had they put 
 their threats in execution, ruin must inevitably 
 have been the consequence. Governor Shirley, 
 finding that he had incurred those debts for the 
 service of government, made arrangements to 
 have them discharged, and released Franklin 
 from his disagreeable situation. 
 
 The alarm spread through the colonies, after 
 the defeat of Braddock, was very great. Prepar- 
 ations to arm were everywhere made. In Penn- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 135 
 
 sylvania, the prevalence of the quaker interest 
 prevented the adoption of any system of.defence, 
 which would compel the citizens to bear arms. 
 Franklin introduced into the Assembly a bill for 
 organizing a militia, by which every man was 
 allowed to take arms or not, as to him should ap- 
 pear fit. The Quakers, being thus left at liberty, 
 suffered the bill to pass; for, although their prin- 
 ciples would not suffer them to fight, they had no 
 objection to their neighbors fighting for them. 
 In consequence of this act a very respectable 
 militia was formed. The sense of impending 
 danger infused a military spirit in all, whose re- 
 ligious tenets were not opposed to war. Franklin 
 was appointed colonel of a regiment in Philadel- 
 phia, which consisted of 1200 men. 
 
 The northwestern frontier being invaded by 
 the enemy, it became necessary to adopt mea- 
 sures for its defence. Franklin was directed by 
 the Governor to take charge of this. A power 
 of raising men, and of ^appointing officers to 
 command them, was vested in him. He soon 
 levied a body of troops, with which he repaired 
 to the place at which their presence was neces- 
 sary. Here he built a fort, and placed the gar- 
 rison in such a posture of defence, as would en- 
 able them to withstand the inroads, to which the 
 inhabitants had been previously exposed. He re- 
 mained here for some time, in order the more 
 completely to discharge the trust committed to 
 him. Some business of' importance at length 
 rendered his presence necessary in the Assem- 
 bly, and he returned to Philadelphia. 
 
 The defence of her colonies was a great ex- 
 pense to Great Britain. The most effectual 
 mode of lessening this was, to put arms into the 
 hands of the inhabitants, and to teach them 
 their use. But England wished not that the 
 
136 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Americans should become acquainted with their 
 own strength. She was apprehensive, that, as 
 soon as this period arrived, they would no longer 
 submit to that monopoly of their trade, which to 
 them was highly injurious, but extremely advan- 
 tageous to the mother country. In comparison 
 with the profits of this, the expense of maintain- 
 ing armies and fleets to defend them was trifling. 
 She fought to keep them dependent upon her for 
 protection; the best plan which could be devised 
 for retaining them in peaceable subjection. The 
 least appearance of a military spirit was .there- 
 fore to be guarded against; and, although a war 
 then raged, the act of organizing a militia was 
 disapproved of by the ministry. The regiments 
 which had been formed under it were disbanded, 
 and the defence of the province was entrusted to 
 regular troops. 
 
 The disputes between the Proprietaries and 
 the people continued in full force, although a 
 war was raging on the frontiers. Not even the 
 sense of danger was sufficient to reconcile, for 
 ever so short a time, their jarring interests. The 
 Assembly still insisted upon the justice of taxing 
 the proprietary estates, but the Governors con- 
 stantly refused their assent to this measure, 
 without which no bill could pass into a law. En- 
 raged at the obstinacy, and what they conceived 
 to be unjust proceedings of their opponents, the 
 Assembly at length determined to apply to the 
 mother country for relief. A petition was ad- 
 dressed to the king, in council, stating the in- 
 conveniences under which the inhabitants labor- 
 ed, from the attention of the Proprietaries to 
 their private interests, to the neglect of the 
 general welfare of the community, and praying 
 for redress. Franklin was appointed to present 
 this address, as agent for the province of Penn- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 137 
 
 sylvania, and departed from America in June, 
 1757. In conformity to the instructions which 
 he had received from the legislature, he held a 
 conference with the Proprietaries who then 
 resided in England, and endeavored to prevail 
 upon them to give up the long-contested point. 
 Finding that they would hearken to no terms of 
 accommodation, he laid his petition before the 
 council. During this time Governor Denny as- 
 sented to a law imposing a tax, in which no dis- 
 crimination was made in favor of the estates of 
 the Penu family. They, alarmed at this intelli- 
 gence, and Franklin's exertions, used their ut- 
 most endeavors to prevent the royal sanction be- 
 ing given to this law, which they represented as 
 highly iniquitous, designed to throw the burden 
 of supporting government upon them, and calcu- 
 lated to produce the most ruinous consequences 
 to them and their posterity. The cause was am- 
 ply discussed before the Privy Council. The 
 Penns found here some strenuous advocates ; 
 nor were there wanting some who warmly es- 
 poused the side of the people. After some time 
 spent in debate, a proposal was made, that 
 Franklin should solemnly engage, that the as- 
 sessment of the tax should be so made, as ,that 
 the proprietary estates should pay no more than 
 a due proportion. This he agreed to perform, 
 the Penn family withdrew their opposition, and 
 tranquillity was thus once more restored to the 
 province. 
 
 The mode in which this dispute was terminat- 
 ed is a striking proof of the high opinion enter- 
 tained of Franklin's integrity and honor, even 
 by those who considered him inimical to their 
 views. Nor was their confidence ill founded 
 The assessment was made upon the strictest 
 principle of equity; and the proprietary estates 
 12* 
 
138 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 bore only a proportionable share of the expenses 
 of supporting government. 
 
 After the completion of this important bu- 
 siness, Franklin remained at the Court of Great 
 Britain, as agent for the province of Pennsyl- 
 vania. The extensive knowledge which he pos- 
 sessed of the situation of the colonies, and the 
 regard which he always manifested for their in- 
 terests, occasioned his appointment to the same 
 office by the colonies of Massachusetts, Mary- 
 land, and Georgia. His conduct, in this situa- 
 tion, was such as rendered him still more dear to 
 his countrymen. 
 
 He had now an opportunity of indulging in the 
 society of those friends, whom his merits had 
 procured him while at a distance. The regard 
 which they had entertained for him was rather 
 increased by a personal acquaintance. The op- 
 position which had been made to his discoveries 
 in philosophy gradually ceased, and the rewards 
 of literary merit were abundantly conferred upon 
 him. The Royal Society of London, which had 
 at first refused his performances admission into 
 its transactions, now thought it an honor to rank 
 him amongst its fellows. Other societies of Eu- 
 rope were equally ambitious of calling him a 
 member. The University of St. Andrew's, in 
 Scotland, conferred upon him the degree of Doc- 
 tor of Laws. Its example was followed by the 
 Universities of Edinburgh and Oxford. His cor- 
 respondence was sought for by the most eminent 
 philosophers of Europe. His letters to these 
 abound with true science, delivered in the most 
 simple unadorned manner. 
 
 The province of Canada was at this time in 
 the possession of the French, who had originally 
 settled it. The trade with the Indians, for which 
 its situation was very convenient, was exceeding- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 139 
 
 ly lucrative. The French traders here found a 
 market for their commodities, and received in 
 return large quantities of rich furs, which they 
 disposed of at a high price in Europe. Whilst 
 the possession of this country was highly advan- 
 tageous to France, it was a grievous inconveni- 
 ence to the inhabitants of the British colonies. 
 The Indians were almost generally desirous to 
 cultivate the friendship of the French, by whom 
 they were abundantly supplied with arms and 
 ammunition. Whenever a war happened, the 
 Indians were ready to fall upon the frontiers; and 
 this they frequently did, even when Great Bri- 
 tain and France were at peace. From these 
 considerations, it appeared to be the interest of 
 Great Britain to gain the possession of Canada. 
 But the importance of such an acquisition was 
 not well understood in England. Franklin about 
 this time published his Canada pamphlet, in 
 which he, in a very forcible manner, pointed out 
 the advantages which would result from the con- 
 quest of this province. 
 
 An expedition against it was planned, and the 
 command given to General Wolfe. His success 
 is well known. At the treaty in 1762, France 
 ceded Canada to Great Britain, and by her ces- 
 sion of Louisiana at the same time, relinquished 
 all her possessions on Ihe continent of America. 
 
 Although Dr. Franklin was now principally 
 occupied with political pursuits, he found time 
 for philosophical studies. He extended his elec- 
 trical researches, and made a variety of experi- 
 ments, particularly on the tourmalin. The sin- 
 gular properties which this stone possesses, of 
 being electrified on one side positively, and on 
 the other negatively, by heat alone, without 
 friction, had been but lately observed. 
 
 Some experiments on the cold produced by 
 
140 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 evaporation, made by Dr. Cullen, had been com- 
 municated to Dr. Franklin, by Professor Simp- 
 son, of Glasgow. These he repeated, and found, 
 that, by the evaporation of ether in the exhaust- 
 ed receiver of an air-pump, so great a degree of 
 cold was produced in a summer's day, that water 
 was converted into ice. This discovery he ap- 
 plied to the solution of a number of phenomena, 
 particularly a singular fact, which philosophers 
 had endeavored in vain to account for, viz. that 
 the temperature of the human body, when in 
 health, never exceeds ninety-six degrees of 
 Farenheit's thermometer, although the atmos- 
 phere which surrounds it may be heated to a 
 much greater degree. This he attributed to the 
 increased perspiration, and consequent evapora- 
 tion, produced by the heat. 
 
 In a letter to Mr. Small, of London, dated in 
 May, 1760, Dr. Franklin makes a number of ob- 
 servations, tending to show that, in North Ame- 
 rica, northeast storms, begin in the southwest 
 parts. It appears, from actual observations, 
 that a northeast storm, which extended a con- 
 siderable distance, commenced at Philadelphia 
 nearly four hours before it was felt at Boston. 
 He endeavored to account for this, by supposing 
 that, from heat, some rarefaction takes place 
 about the Gulph of Mexico, that the air further 
 north being cooler rushes in, and is succeeded 
 by the cooler and denser air still farther north, 
 and that thus a continued current is at length 
 produced. 
 
 The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a 
 drinking glass with a wet finger had been gener- 
 ally known. A Mr. Puckeridge, an Irishman, 
 by placing on a table a number of glasses of dif- 
 ferent sizes, and tuning them by partly filling 
 them with water, endeavored to form an instru-? 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 141 
 
 rnent capable of playing tunes. He was prevent- 
 ed, by an untimely end, from bringing his inven- 
 tion to any degree of perfection. After his death 
 some improvements were made upon his plan. 
 The sweetness of the tones induced Dr. Frank- 
 lin to make a variety of experiments; and he at 
 length formed that elegant instrument, which he 
 has called the Armonica. 
 
 In the summer of 1762, he returned to Ame- 
 rica. On his passage he observed the singular 
 effect produced by the agitation of a vessel, con- 
 taining oil floating on water. The surface of the 
 oil remains smooth and undisturbed, whilst the 
 water is agitated with the utmost commotion.; — 
 No satisfactory explanation of this appearance 
 has, we believe, ever been given. 
 
 Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the As- 
 sembly of Pennsylvania, "as well for the faithful 
 discharge of his duty to that province in particu- 
 lar, as for the many and important services done 
 to America in general, during his residence in 
 Great Britain." A compensation of 5,000/. 
 Pennsylvania currency, was also decreed him 
 for his services during six years. 
 
 During his absence he had been annually 
 elected member of the Assembly. On his return 
 to Pennsylvania he again took his seat in this 
 body, and continued a steady defender of the lib- 
 erties of the people. 
 
 In December, 1762, a circumstance which 
 caused great alarm in the province took place. 
 A number of Indians had resided in the county 
 of Lancaster, and conducted themselves uniform- 
 ly as friends to the white inhabitants. Repeated 
 depredations on the frontiers had exasperated 
 the inhabitants to such a degree, that they deter- 
 mined on revenge upon every Indian. A number 
 of persons, to the amount of about one hundred 
 
142 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 and twenty, principally inhabitants of Donegal 
 and Peckstang or Paxton townships, in the coun- 
 ty of York, assembled; and, mounted on horse- 
 back, proceeded to the settlement of these harm- 
 less and defenceless Indians, whose number had 
 now been reduced to ahout twenty. The Indians 
 received intelligence of the attack which was 
 
 9 
 
 intended against them, but disbelieved it. Con- 
 sidering the white people as their friends, they 
 apprehended no danger from them. When the 
 party arrived at the Indian settlement, they 
 found only some women and children, and a few 
 old men, the rest being absent at work. They 
 murdered all whom they found, and amongst 
 others the chief >Shaheas, who had been always 
 distinguished for his friendship to the whites. 
 This bloody deed excited mucn indignation in 
 the well-disposed part of the community. 
 
 The remainder of these unfortunate Indians, 
 who, by absence, had escaped the massacre, 
 were conducted to Lancaster, and lodged in the 
 jail as a place of security. The Governor issued 
 a Proclamation, expressing the strongest disap- 
 probation of the act, offering a reward for the 
 discovery of the perpetrators of the deed, and 
 prohibiting all injuries to the peaceable Indians 
 in future. But, notwithstanding this, a party of 
 the same men shortly after marched to Lancaster, 
 broke open the jail, and inhumanly butchered 
 the innocent Indians who had been placed there 
 for security. Another Proclamation was issued, 
 but it had no effect. A detachment marched 
 down to Philadelphia, for the express purpose of 
 murdering some friendly Indians, who had been 
 removed to the city for safety. A number of the 
 citizens armed in their defence. The duakers, 
 whose principles are opposed to fighting even in 
 their own defence, were most active upon this 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 143 
 
 occasion. The rioters came to Germantown. 
 The Governor fled for safety to the house of Dr. 
 Franklin, who, with some others, advanced to 
 meet the Paxton boys, as they were called, and 
 had influence enough to prevail upon them to re- 
 linquish their undertaking, and return to their 
 homes. 
 
 The disputes between the Proprietaries and 
 the Assembly, which, for a time had subsided, 
 were again revived. The Proprietaries were dis- 
 satisfied with the concessions made in favor of 
 the people, and made great struggles to recover 
 the privilege of exempting their estates from 
 taxation, which they had been induced to give 
 
 In 1763, the Assembly passed a militia bill, to 
 which the Governor refused to give his assent, 
 unless the Assembly would agree to certain 
 amendments which he proposed. These consisted 
 in increasing the fines; and, in some cases, sub- 
 stituting death for fines. He wished too, that the 
 officers should be appointed altogether by himself, 
 and not be nominated by the people, as the bill 
 had proposed. These amendments the Assembly 
 considered as inconsistent with the spirit of lib- 
 erty. They would not adopt them; the Governor 
 was obstinate, and the bill was lost. 
 
 These, and various other circumstances, in- 
 creased the uneasiness which subsisted between 
 the Proprietaries and the Assembly, to such a 
 degree that, in 1764 a petition to the king was 
 agreed to by the house, praying an alteration 
 from a proprietary to a regal government. Great 
 opposition was made to this measure, not only in 
 the house, but in the public prints. A speech of 
 Mr. Dickenson, on the subject, was published, 
 with a preface by Dr. Smith, in which great 
 pains were taken to show the impropriety and 
 
144 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 impolicy of this proceeding. A speech of Mr. 
 Galloway, in reply to Mr. Dickenson, was pub- 
 lished, accompanied with a preface by Dr. 
 Franklin; in which he ably opposed the principles 
 laid down in the preface to Mr. Dickenson's 
 speech. This application to the throne produced 
 no effect. The proprietary government was still 
 continued. 
 
 At the election for a new Assembly, in the fall 
 of 1764, the friends of the Proprietaries made 
 great exertions to exclude those of the adverse 
 party; and they obtained a small majority in the 
 city of Philadelphia. Franklin now lost his seat 
 in the house, which he had held for fourteen 
 years. On the meeting of the Assembly, it, ap- 
 peared that therevwas still a decided majority of 
 Franklin's friends. He was immediately appoint- 
 ed provincial agent, to the great chagrin of his 
 enemies, who made a solemn protest against his 
 appointment; which was refused admission upon 
 the minutes, as being unprecedented. It was, 
 however, published in the papers, and produced 
 a spirited reply from him, just before his depar- 
 ture for England. 
 
 The disturbances produced in America by Mr. 
 Grenville's stamp act, and the opposition made 
 to it, are well known. Under the Marquis of 
 Rockingham's administration, it appeared expe- 
 dient to endeavor to calm the minds of the colo- 
 nists; and the repeal of the odious tax was con- 
 templated. Amongst other means of collecting 
 information on the disposition of the people to 
 submit to it, Dr. Franklin was called to the bar 
 of the House of Commons. The examination 
 which he here underwent was published, and con- 
 tains a striking proof of the extent and accuracy 
 of his information, and the facility with which he 
 communicated his sentiments. He represented 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 145 
 
 facts in so strong a point of view, that the inex- 
 pediency of the act must have appeared clear to 
 every unprejudiced mind. The act, after some 
 opposition, was repealed, about a year after it 
 was enacted, and before it had ever been carried 
 into execution. 
 
 In the year 1766, he made a visit to Holland 
 and Germany, and received the greatest marks 
 of attention from men of science. In his pas- 
 sage through Holland, he learned from the water- 
 men the effect which a diminution of the quanti- 
 ty of water in canals has, in impeding the pro- 
 gress of boats. Upon his return to England, he 
 was led to make a number of experiments, all of 
 which tended to confirm the observation. These, 
 with an explanation of the phenomenon, he 
 communicated in a letter to his friend, Sir 
 John Pringle, which is among his philosophical 
 pieces. 
 
 In the following year he travelled into France, 
 where he met with a no less favorable reception 
 than he had experienced in Germany. He was 
 introduced to a number of literary characters, 
 and to the King, Louis XV. 
 
 Several letters written by Hutchinson, Oliver, 
 and others, to persons in eminent stations in 
 Great Britain, came into the hands of Dr. 
 Franklin. These contained the most violent in- 
 vectives against the leading characters of the 
 state of Massachusetts, and strenuously advised 
 the prosecution of vigorous measures, to compel 
 the people to obedience to the measures of the 
 ministry. These he transmitted to the legisla- 
 ture, by whom they were published. Attested 
 copies of them were sent to Great Britain, with 
 an address, praying the King to discharge from 
 office persons who had rendered themselves so 
 obnoxious to the people, and who had shown 
 13 G 
 
146 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 themselves so unfriendly to their interests. The 
 publication of these letters produced a duel be- 
 tween Mr. Whately and Mr. Temple; each of 
 whom was suspected of having been instrumental 
 in procuring them. To prevent any further dis- 
 putes on this subject, Dr. Franklin, in one of 
 the public papers, declared that he had sent 
 them to America, but would give no information 
 concerning the manner in which he had obtain- 
 ed them; nor was this ever discovered. 
 
 Shortly after, the petition of the Massachu- 
 setts Assembly was taken up for examination, be- 
 fore the Privy Council. Dr. Franklin attended 
 as agent for the Assembly; and here a torrent of 
 the most violent and unwarranted abuse was 
 poured upon him by the solicitor general, W«d- 
 derburne, who was engaged as counsel for Oliver 
 and Hutchinson. The petition was declared to be 
 scandalous and vexatious; and the prayer of it 
 refused. 
 
 Although the parliament of Great Britain had 
 repealed the stamp act, it was only upon the 
 principle of expediency. They still insisted upon 
 their right to tax the colonies; and, at the same 
 time that the stamp act was repealed, an act was 
 passed, declaring the right of parliament to bind 
 the colonies in all cases whatsoever. This lan- 
 guage was used even by the most strenuous op- 
 posers of the stamp act: and, amongst others, by 
 Mr. Pitt. This right was never recognized by 
 the colonists; but, as they flattered themselves 
 that it would not be exercised, they were not 
 very active in remonstrating against it. Had 
 this pretended right been suffered to remain dor- 
 mant, the colonists would cheerfully have fur- 
 nished their quota of supplies, in the mode to 
 which they had been accustomed; that is r by 
 acts of their own assemblies, in consequence of 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 147 
 
 requisitions from the Secretary of State. If this 
 practice had been pursued, such was the disposi- 
 tion of the colonies towards their mother coun- 
 try, that, notwithstanding the disadvantages un- 
 der which they labored, from restraints upon 
 their trade, calculated solely for the benefit of 
 the commercial and manufacturing interests of 
 Great Britain, a separation of the two countries 
 might have been a far distant event. The Ame- 
 ricans, from their earliest infancy, were taught 
 to venerate a people from wbom they were de- 
 scended; whose language, laws, and manners 
 were the same as their own. They looked up to 
 them as models of perfection; and, in their pre- 
 judiced minds, the most enlightened nations of 
 Europe were considered as almost barbarians, 
 in comparison with Englishmen,. The name of 
 an Englishman conveyed to an American the 
 idea of every thing good and great. Such sen- 
 timents instilled into them in early life, what but 
 a repetition of unjust treatment could have in- 
 duced them to entertain the most distant thought 
 of separation! The duties on glass, paper, lea- 
 ther, painters' colors, tea, &c. the disfranchise- 
 ment of some of the colonies; the obstruction to 
 the measures of the legislature in others, by the 
 King's Governors; the contemptuous treatment 
 of their humble remonstrances, stating their 
 grievances, and praying a redress of them, and 
 other violent and oppressive measures, at length 
 excited an ardent spirit of opposition. Instead 
 of endeavoring to allay this by a more lenient 
 conduct, the ministry seemed resolutely bent 
 upon reducing the colonies to the most slavish 
 obedience to their decrees. But this only tend- 
 ed to aggravate. Vain were all the efforts made 
 use of to prevail upon them to lay aside their de- 
 signs, to convince them of the impossibility of 
 
14S LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 carrying them into effect, and of the mischievous 
 consequences which must ensue from a continu- 
 ance of the attempt. They persevered with a 
 degree of inflexibility scarcely paralleled. 
 
 The advantages which Great Britain derived 
 from her colonies were so great, that nothing 
 but a degree of infatuation, little short of mad- 
 ness, could have produced a continuance of mea- 
 sures calculated to keep up a spirit of uneasiness, 
 which might occasion the slightest wish for a 
 separation. When we consider the great im- 
 provements in the science of government, the 
 general diffusion of the principles of liberty 
 amongst the people of Europe, the effects which 
 these have already produced in France, and the 
 probable consequences which will result from 
 them elsewhere, all of which are the offspring of 
 the American revolution, it cannot but appear 
 strange, that events of so great moment to the 
 happiness of mankind, should have been ulti- 
 mately occasioned by the wickedness or ignor- 
 ance of a British ministry. 
 
 Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail 
 upon the ministry to consent to a change of mea- 
 sures. In private conversations, and in letters 
 to persons in government, he continually expa- 
 tiated upon the impolicy and injustice of their 
 conduct towards America; and stated, that, not- 
 withstanding the attachment of the colonists to 
 the mother country, a repetition of ill treatment 
 must ultimately alienate their affections. They 
 listened not to his advice. They blindly perse- 
 vered in their own schemes, and left to the colo- 
 nists no alternative, but opposition, or uncondi- 
 tional submission. The latter accorded not with 
 the principles of freedom which they had been 
 taught to revere. To the former they were 
 compelled, though reluctantly, to have recourse. 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 149 
 
 Dr. Franklin, finding all efforts to restore har- 
 mony between Great Britain and her colonies 
 useless, returned to America in the year 1775; 
 just after the commencement of hostilities. The 
 day after his return he was elected by the legisla- 
 ture of Pennsylvania a delegate to Congress. Not 
 long after his election a committee was appoint- 
 ed, consisting of Mr. Lynch, Mr. Harrison, and 
 himself, to visit the camp at Cambridge, and, in 
 conjunction with the commander in chief, to en- 
 deavor to convince the troops, whose term of en- 
 listment was about to expire, of the necessity of 
 their continuing in the field, and persevering in 
 the cause of their country. 
 
 In the fall of the same year he visited Canada, 
 to endeavor to unite them in the common cause 
 of liberty; but they could not be prevailed upon 
 to oppose the measures of the British Govern- 
 ment. M. le Roy, in a letter annexed to Abbe 
 Fauchet's eulogium of Dr. Franklin, states, that 
 the ill success of this negotiation was occasion- 
 ed, in a great degree, by religious animosities, 
 which subsisted between the Canadians and their 
 neighbors, some of whom had, at diiferent times, 
 burnt their chapels. 
 
 When Lord Howe came to America, in 1776, 
 vested with power to treat with the colonists, a 
 correspondence took place between him and Dr. 
 Franklin on the subject of a reconciliation. Dr. 
 Franklin was afterwards appointed together with 
 John Adams and Edward Rutledge, to wait upon 
 the commissioners, in order to learn the extent 
 of their powers. These were found to be only 
 to grant pardons upon submission. These were 
 terms which would not be accepted; and the 
 object of the commissioners could not be ob- 
 tained. 
 
 The momentous question of independence was 
 13* 
 
150 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 shortly after brought into view, at a time when 
 the fleets and armies, which were sent to enforce 
 obedience, were truly formidable. With an ar- 
 my, numerous indeed, but ignorant of discipline, 
 and entirely unskilled in the art of war, without 
 money, without a fleet, without allies, and with 
 nothing but the love of liberty to support them, 
 the colonists determined to separate from a 
 country, from which they had experienced a re- 
 petition of injury and insult. In this question, 
 Dr. Franklin was decidedly in favor of the mea- 
 sure proposed, and had great influence in bring- 
 ing others over to his sentiments. 
 
 The public mind had been already prepared 
 for this event, by Mr. Paine's celebrated pam- 
 phlet, Common Sense. There is good reason to 
 believe that Dr. Franklin had no inconsiderable 
 share,, at least, in furnishing materials for this 
 work. 
 
 In the Convention which assembled at Phila- 
 delphia in 1776, for the purpose of establishing 
 anew form of government for the state of Penn- 
 sylvania, Dr. Franklin was chosen president. 
 The late constitution of this state, which was 
 the result of their deliberations, may be consid- 
 ered as a digest of his principles of government. 
 The single legislature, and the plural execu- 
 tive, seem to have been his favorite tenets. 
 
 In the latter end of 1776, Dr. Franklin was 
 appointed to assist at the negotiation which had 
 been set on foot by Silas Deane, at the court of 
 France. A conviction of the advantages of a 
 commercial intercourse with America, and a de- 
 sire of weakening the British empire by dismem- 
 bering it, first induced the French Court to listen 
 to proposals of an alliance. But they showed 
 rather a reluctance to the measure, which by 
 Dr. Franklin's address, and particularly by the 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 151 
 
 success of the American arms against General 
 Burgoyne, was at length overcome; and in Fe- 
 bruary, 1778, a treaty of alliance, offensive 
 and defensive, was concluded; in consequence 
 of which France became involved in the war 
 with Great Britain. 
 
 Perhaps no person could have been found more 
 capable of rendering essential services to the 
 United States at the court of # France than Dr. 
 Franklin. He was well known as a philosopher, 
 and his character was held in the highest estima- 
 tion. He was received with the greatest marks 
 of respect by all the literary characters; and this 
 respect was extended amongst all classes of men. 
 His personal influence was hence very consider- 
 able. To the effects of this were added those of 
 various performances which he published, tend- 
 ing to establish the credit and character of the 
 United States. To his exertions in this way may, 
 in no small degree, be ascribed the success of 
 the loans negotiated in Holland and France, 
 which greatly contributed to bringing the war to 
 a happy conclusion. 
 
 The repeated ill success of their arms, and 
 more particularly the capture of Cornwallis and 
 his army, at length convinced the British nation 
 of the impossibility of reducing the Americans 
 to subjection. The trading interest particular- 
 ly became clamorous for peace. The ministry 
 were unable longer to oppose their wishes. Pro- 
 visional articles of peace were agreed to, and 
 signed at Paris, on the 30th of November, 1782, 
 by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. 
 Laurens, on the part of the United States; and 
 by Mr. Oswald on the part of Great Britain. 
 These formed the basis of the definitive treaty, 
 which was concluded the 3d of September, 1783, 
 and signed by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, and 
 
152 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 Mr. Jay, on the one part, and by Mr. David 
 Hartly on the other. 
 
 On the 3d of April, 1783, a treaty of amity 
 and commerce, between the United States and 
 Sweden, was concluded at Paris by Dr. Frank- 
 lin and the Count Von Krutz. 
 
 A similar treaty with Prussia was concluded 
 in 1785, not long hefore Dr. Franklin's depar- 
 ture from Europe. 
 
 Dr. Franklin did not suffer his political pur- 
 suits to engross his whole attention. Some of his 
 performances made their appearance in Paris. 
 The object of these was generally the promotion 
 of industry and economy. 
 
 In the year 1784, when animal magnetism 
 made great noise in the world, particularly at 
 Paris, it was thought a matter of such impor- 
 tance that the King appointed commissioners to 
 examine into the foundation of this pretended 
 science. Dr. Franklin was one of the number. 
 After a fair and diligent examination, in the 
 course of which Mesmer repeated a number of 
 experiments, in the presence of the commission- 
 ers, some of which were tried upon themselves, 
 they determined that it was a mere trick, in- 
 tended to impose upon the ignorant and credu- 
 lous. Mesmer was thus interrupted in his career 
 to wealth and fame, and a most insolent at- 
 tempt to impose on the human understanding 
 baffled. 
 
 The important ends of Dr. Franklin's mission 
 being completed by the establishment of Ameri- 
 can independence, and the infirmities of age and 
 disease coming upon him, he became desirous of 
 returning to his native country. Upon applica- 
 tion to Congress to be recalled, Mr. Jefferson 
 was appointed to succeed him, in 1785. Some 
 time in September of the same year, Dr. Frank- 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 153 
 
 iin arrived in Philadelphia. He was shortly after 
 chosen a member of the supreme executive coun- 
 cil for the city, and soon after was elected pre- 
 sident of the same. 
 
 When a convention was, called to meet in 
 Philadelphia, in 1787, for the purpose of giving 
 more energy to the Government of the union, by 1 
 revising and amending the articles of confedera- 
 tion, Dr. Franklin was appointed a delegate 
 from the State of Pennsylvania. He signed the 
 constitution which they proposed for the union, 
 and gave it the most unequivocal marks of his ap- 
 probation. 
 
 A society for political inquiries, of which Dr. 
 Franklin was president, was established about 
 this period. The meetings were held at his 
 house. Two or three essays read in this soci- 
 ety were published. It did not long contiuue. 
 
 In the year 1787, two societies were establish- 
 ed in Philadelphia, founded on the principles of 
 the most liberal and refined humanity — The 
 Philadelphia Society for alleviating the miseries of 
 public prisons; and the Pennsylvania Society for 
 promoting the abolition of slavery, the relief of 
 free negroes unlawfully held in bondage, and the 
 improvement of the condition of the African race. 
 Of each of these Dr. Franklin was president. 
 The labors of these bodies have been crowned 
 with great success; and they continue to prose- 
 cute, with unwearied diligence, the laudable de- 
 signs for which they were established. 
 
 Dr. Franklin's increasing infirmities prevent- 
 ed his regular attendance at the council cham- 
 ber; and, in 1788, he re-tired wholly from public 
 life. 
 
 His constitution had been a remarkably good 
 one. He had been little subject to disease, ex- 
 cept an attack of the gout occasionally, until 
 
 g2 
 
154 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 about the year 1781, when he was first attacked 
 with symptoms of the calculous complaint, which 
 continued during his life. During* the intervals of 
 pain from this grievous disease, he spent many 
 cheerful hours, conversing in the most agreeable 
 and instructive manner. His faculties were 
 entirely unimpaired even to the hour of his 
 •death. 
 
 His name, as president of the Abolition Socie- 
 ty, was signed to the memorial presented to the 
 house of representatives of the United States, on 
 the 12th of February, 1789, praying them to ex- 
 ert 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 his memorial gave rise, 
 several attempts were made to justify the trade. 
 In the Federal Gazette of March 25th, there ap- 
 peared 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 pur- 
 suits, for the abolition of piracy and slavery. 
 This pretended African speech was an excellent 
 parody of one delivered by Mr. Jackson of Geor- 
 gia. All the arguments urged in favor of negro 
 slavery, are applied with equal force to justify 
 the plundering and enslaving of Europeans, It 
 affords, at the same time, a demonstration of 
 the futility of the arguments in defence of the 
 slave trade, and of the strength of mind and in- 
 genuity of the author, at his advanced period of 
 life. It furnished too, a no less convincing 
 proof of his power of imitating the style of other 
 times and nations than his celebrated parable 
 against persecution. And as the latter led many 
 persons to search the Scriptures with a view to 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 155 
 
 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** 
 
 In the beginning of April following-, he was 
 attacked with a fever and complaint of his breast, 
 which terminated his existence. The following 
 account of his last illness was written by his 
 friend and physician, Dr. Jones. 
 
 "The stone, with which he had been afflicted 
 for several years, had for the last twelve months 
 confined him chiefly to his bed; and, during the 
 extremely painful paroxysms, he was obliged to 
 take large doses of laudanum to mitigate his tor- 
 tures — still, in the intervals of pain, he not only 
 amused himself with reading and conversing 
 cheerfully with his family, and a few friends who 
 visited him, but was often employed in doing bu- 
 siness of a public as well as private nature, with 
 various persons who waited on him for that pur- 
 pose; and in every instance displayed, not only 
 that readiness and disposition of doing good, which 
 was the distinguishing characteristic of his life, 
 but the fullest and clearest possession of his un- 
 common mental abilities;; and not unfrequently 
 indulged himself in those jeux d' esprit and en- 
 tertaining anecdotes, which were the delight of 
 all who heard him. 
 
 "About sixteen days before his death, he was 
 seized with a feverish indisposition, without any 
 particular symptoms attending it, till the third 
 or fourth day, when he complained of a pain in 
 the left breast, which increased till it became 
 extremely acute, attended with a cough and labo- 
 rious breathing. During this state, when the 
 severity of his pains sometimes drew forth a 
 groan of complaint, he would observe — that he 
 was afraid he did not bear them as he ought — ac- 
 * This speech will be found among his Essays. 
 
156 LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 knowledged his grateful sense of the many bless- 
 ings he had received from that Supreme Being, 
 who had raised him from small and low begin- 
 nings to such high rank and consideration among 
 men — and made no doubt but his present afflic- 
 tions were kindly intended to wean him from a 
 world, in which he was no longer fit to act the 
 part assigned him. In this frame of body and 
 mind he continued till five days before his death, 
 when his pain and difficulty of breathing entirely 
 left him, and his family were flattering them- 
 selves with the hopes of his recovery, when an 
 imposthumation, which had formed itself in his 
 lungs, suddenly burst, and discharged a great 
 quantity of matter, which he continued to throw 
 up while he had sufficient strength to do it; but, 
 as that failed, the organs of respiration became 
 gradually oppressed — a calm lethargic state suc- 
 ceeded — and, on the 17th of April, 1790, about 
 eleven o'clock at night, he quietly expired, clos- 
 ing a long and useful life of eighty-four years and 
 three months." 
 
 It may not be amiss to add to the above ac- 
 count, that Dr. Franklin, in the year 1735, had 
 a severe pleurisy, which terminated in an ab- 
 scess of the left lobe of his lungs, and he was 
 then almost suffocated with the quantity and sud- 
 denness of the discharge. A second attack, of a 
 similar nature, happened some years after this, 
 from which he soon recovered, and did not ap- 
 pear to suffer any inconvenience in his respira- 
 tion from these diseases. 
 
 The following epitaph on himself, was writ- 
 ten by him many years previous to his death : 
 
LIFE OF FRANKLIN. 157 
 
 THE BODY 
 
 of 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 
 Printer, 
 
 (like the cover of an old book, 
 
 its contents torn out, 
 
 and stript of its lettering and gilding) 
 
 lies here food for worms ; 
 yet the work itself shall not be lost, 
 for it will (as he believed) appear once more 
 in a new 
 and more beautiful edition, 
 corrected and amended 
 by 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 14 
 
159 WILL OF FRANKLIN. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT 
 OF DR. FRANKLIN, 
 
 With regard to my books, those I had in 
 France, and those I left in Philadelphia, being 
 now assembled together here, and a catalogue 
 made of them, it is my intention to dispose of 
 the same as follows: 
 
 My "History of the Academy of Sciences," 
 in sixty or seventy volumes quarto, I give to the 
 Philosophical Society of Philadelphia, of which 
 I have the honor to be president. My collection 
 in folio of "Les Arts et les Metiers," I give to 
 the American Philosophical Society, established 
 in New England, of which I am a member. My 
 quarto edition of the same, "Arts et Metiers," 
 I give to the Library Company of Philadelphia. 
 Such and so many of my books as I shall mark, 
 in the said catalogue, with the name of my grand- 
 son, Benjamin Franklin Bache, I do hereby 
 give to him; and such and so many of my books 
 ,as I shall mark in the said catalogue with the 
 name of my grandson William Bache, I do here- 
 by give to him: and such as shall be marked with 
 the name of Jonathan Williams, I hereby give 
 to my cousin of that name. The residue and re- 
 mainder of all my books, manuscripts, and pa-* 
 pers, I do give to my grandson William Temple 
 Franklin. My share in the Library Company of 
 Philadelphia I give to my grandson, Benjamin 
 Franklin Bache, confiding that he will permit 
 his brothers and sisters to share in the use of it, 
 I was born in Boston, New England, and owe 
 my first instructions in literature to the free gram^ 
 mar schools established there. I therefore give one 
 hundred pounds sterling to my executors, to be 
 by them, the survivors or survivor of them, pai4 
 
160 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 over to the managers or directors of the free 
 schools in my native town of Boston, to be by 
 them, or the person or persons, who shall have 
 the superintendence and management of the said 
 schools, put out to interest, and so continued at 
 interest for ever; which interest annually shall 
 be laid out in silver medals, and given as honor- 
 ary rewards annually by the directors of the 
 said free schools, for the encouragement of 
 scholarship in the said schools, belonging to the 
 said town, in such manner as to the discretion of 
 the select men of the said town shall seem meet. 
 
 Out of the salary that may remain due to me, 
 as president of the state, I give the sum of two 
 thousand pounds to my executors, to be by them, 
 the survivors or survivor of them, paid over to 
 such person or persons as the legislature of this 
 state, by an act of assembly, shall appoint to re- 
 ceive the same, in trust, to be employed for mak- 
 ing the Schuylkill navigable. 
 
 During the number of years I was in business 
 as a stationer, printer, and postmaster, a great 
 many small sums became due to me, for books, 
 advertisements, postage of letters, and other 
 matters, which were not collected, when, in 
 1757, I was sent by the Assembly to England as 
 their agent — and, by subsequent appointments 
 continued there till 1775 — when, on my return, 
 I was immediately engaged in the affairs of Con- 
 gress, and sent to France in 1776, where I re- 
 mained nine years, not returning till 1785, and 
 the said debts not being demanded in such a 
 length of time, have become in a manner obso- 
 lete, yet are nevertheless justly due. These as 
 they are stated in my great folio ledger, E, I be- 
 queath to the contributors of the Pennsylvania 
 hospital, hoping that those debtors, and the de- 
 scendants of such as are deceased, who now, as 
 
DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 161 
 
 I find, make some difficulty of satisfying such an- 
 tiquated demands as just debts, may, however, 
 be induced to pay or give them as charity to that 
 excellent institution. I am sensible that much 
 must be inevitably lost; but I hope something 
 considerable may be recovered. It is possible 
 too, that some of the parties charged may have 
 existing old unsettled accounts against me: in 
 which case the managers of the said hospital 
 will allow and deduct the amount, or pay the 
 balance, if they find it against me. 
 
 I request my friends, Henry Hill, Esq. John 
 Jay, Esq. Francis Hopkinson, and Mr. Edward 
 Duffieid of Bonfield, in Philadelphia county, to 
 be the executors of this my last will and testa- 
 ment, and I hereby nominate and appoint them 
 for that purpose. 
 
 I would have my body buried with as little ex- 
 pense or ceremony as may be. 
 
 Philadelphia , July 17th, 1788. 
 
 CODICIL. 
 
 I, Benjamin Franklin, in the foregoing or 
 annexed last will and testament, having further 
 considered the same, do think proper to make 
 and publish the following codicil, or addition 
 thereto. 
 
 It having long been a fixed and political opin- 
 ion of mine, that in a democratical state there 
 ought to be no offices of profit, for the reasons 
 I had given in an article of my drawing in our 
 constitution, it was my intention, when I accept- 
 ed the office of president, to devote the appoint- 
 ed salary to some public use : accordingly I had 
 already, before I made my last will, in July last, 
 14 * 
 
169 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 given large sums of it to Colleges, Schools, build- 
 ing of Churches, <fcc. and in that will I bequeath- 
 ed two thousand pounds more to the state, for 
 the purpose of making the Schuylkill navigable; 
 but understanding since, that such a sum would 
 do but little towards accomplishing such a work, 
 and that the project is not likely to be under- 
 taken for many years to come — and having en- 
 tertained another idea, which I hope may be 
 more extensively useful, I do hereby revoke and 
 annul the bequest, and direct that the certifi- 
 cates I have for what remains due to me of that 
 salary, be sold towards raising the sum of two 
 thousand pounds sterling, to be disposed of as I 
 am now about to order. 
 
 It has been an opinion, that he who receives 
 an estate from his ancestors, is under some ob- 
 ligation to transmit the same to posterity. This 
 obligation lies not on me, who never inherited a 
 shilling from any ancestor or relation. I shall, 
 however, if it is not diminished by some acci- 
 dent before my death, leave a considerable 
 estate among my descendants and relations. The 
 above observation is made merely as some apolo- 
 gy to my family, for my making bequests that do 
 not appear to have any immediate relation to 
 their advantage. 
 
 I was born in Boston, New England, and owe 
 my first instructions in literature to the free 
 grammar schools established there. I have there- 
 fore considered those schools in my will. 
 
 But I am also under obligations to the state of 
 Massachusetts, for having, unasked, appointed 
 me formerly their agent, with a handsome salary, 
 which continued some years; and, although I ac- 
 cidentally lost in their service, by transmitting 
 GovernorHutchinson's letters, much more than 
 the amount of what they gave me, I do not think 
 
DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 1G3 
 
 that ought in the least to diminish my gratitude. 
 I have considered that, among artisans, good ap- 
 prentices are most likely to make good citizens; 
 and having myself been bred to a manual art, 
 printing, in my native town, and afterwards as- 
 sisted to set up my business in Philadelphia by 
 kind loans of money from two friends there, 
 which was the foundation of my fortune, and of 
 all the utility in life that may be ascribed to me, 
 I wish to be useful even after my death, if possi- 
 ble, in forming and advancing other young men, 
 that may be serviceable to their country in both 
 these towns. 
 
 To this end I devote two thousand pounds 
 sterling, which I give, one thousand thereof to 
 the inhabitants of the town of Boston in Massa- 
 chusetts, and the other thousand to the inhabi- 
 tants of the city of Philadelphia, in trust, to and 
 for the . uses, intents, and purposes, hereinafter 
 mentioned and declared. 
 
 The said sum of one thousand pounds sterl- 
 ing, if accepted by the inhabitants of the town 
 of Boston, shall be managed under the direc- 
 tion of the select men, united with the minis- 
 ters of the oldest Episcopalian, Congregational, 
 and Presbyterian Churches in that town, who 
 are to let out the same upon interest at five per 
 cent, per annum, to such young married artifi- 
 cers, under the age of twenty-five years, as have 
 served an apprenticeship in the said town, and 
 faithfully fulfilled the duties required in their in- 
 dentures, so as to obtain a good moral character 
 from at least two respectable citizens, who are 
 willing to become sureties in a bond, with the 
 applicants, for the repayment of the money so 
 lent, with interest, according to the terms here- 
 inafter prescribed ; all which bonds are to be 
 taken for Spanish milled dollars, or the value 
 
164 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 thereof in current gold coin: and the manager 
 shall keep a bound book, or books, wherein shall 
 be entered the names of those who shall apply 
 for and receive the benefit of this institulion, 
 and of their sureties, together with the sums 
 lent, the dates, and other necessary and proper 
 records respecting the business and concerns of 
 this institution; and as these loans are intended 
 to assist young married artificers in setting up 
 their business, they are to be proportioned by 
 the discretion of the managers, so as not to ex- 
 ceed sixty pounds sterling to one person, nor 
 to be less than fifteen pounds. 
 
 And if the number of appliers so entitled 
 should be so large as that the sum will not suffice 
 to afford to every one some assistance, these aids 
 may therefore be small at first, but as the capital 
 increases by the accumulated interest, they will 
 be more ample. And in order to serve as many 
 as possible in their turn, as well as to make the 
 repayment of the principal borrowed more easy, 
 each borrower shall be obliged to pay with the 
 yearly interest one-tenth part of the principal; 
 which sums of principal and interest so paid in, 
 shall be again let out to fresh borrowers. And 
 it is presumed, that there will be always found 
 in Boston virtuous and benevolent citizens, will- 
 ing to bestow a part of their time in doing good 
 to the rising generation, by superintending and 
 managing this institution gratis; it is hoped, that 
 no part of the money will at any time lie dead, 
 or be diverted to other purposes, but be continu- 
 ally augmenting by the interest, in which case 
 there may in time be more than the occasion in 
 Boston may require: and then some may be spar- 
 ed to the neighboring or other towns in the said 
 state of Massachusetts, which may desire to have 
 it, such towns engaging to pay punctually the 
 
DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 165 
 
 interest, and the proportions of the principal 
 annually to the inhabitants of the town of Bos- 
 ton. If this plan is executed, and succeeds, as 
 projected, without interruption for one hundred 
 years, the sum will be then one hundred and 
 thirty-one thousand pounds; of which I would 
 have the managers of the donation to the town 
 of Boston then lay out, at their discretion, one 
 hundred thousand pounds in public works, which 
 may be judged of most general utility to the in- 
 habitants; such as fortifications, bridges, aque- 
 ducts, public buildings, baths, pavements, or 
 whatever may make living in the town more con- 
 venient to its people, and render it more agree- 
 able to strangers resorting thither for health, or 
 a temporary residence. The remaining thirty- 
 one thousand pounds I would have continued to 
 be let out to interest, in the manner above di- 
 rected, for one hundred years; as I hope it will 
 have been found, that the institution has had a 
 good effect on the conduct of youth, and been of 
 service to many worthy characters and useful 
 citizens. At the end of this second term, if no 
 unfortunate accident has prevented the opera- 
 tion, the sum will be four millions and sixty-one 
 thousand pounds sterling, of which I leave one 
 million and sixty-one thousand pounds to the dis- 
 position and management of the inhabitants of 
 the town of Boston, and the three millions to the 
 disposition of the government of the state, not 
 presuming to carry my views further. 
 
 All the directions herein given respecting the 
 disposition and management of the donation to 
 the inhabitants of Boston, I would have observed 
 respecting that to the inhabitants of Philadelphia, 
 only as Philadelphia is incorporated, I request the 
 Corporation of that city to undertake the manage- 
 ment, agreeably to the said directions : and I do 
 
1G6 EXTRACTS FROM 
 
 hereby vest them with full and ample powers for 
 that purpose. And having considered that the 
 covering its ground plat with buildings and pave- 
 ments, which carry off most rain, and prevent 
 its soaking into the earth, and renewing and pu- 
 rifying the springs, whence the water of the 
 wells must gradually grow worse, and in time 
 be unfit for use, as 1 find has happened in all old 
 cities; I recommend, that, at the end of the 
 first hundred years, if not done before, the Cor- 
 poration of the city employ a part of the hundred 
 thousand pounds in bringing by pipes the water 
 of Wissahickon creek into the town, so as to sup- 
 ply the inhabitants; which I apprehend may be 
 done without 'great difficulty, the level of that 
 creek being much above that of the city, and may 
 be made higher by a dam. I also recommend 
 making the Schuylkill completely navigable. At 
 the end of the second hundred years, I would 
 have the disposition of the four millions and 
 sixty-one thousand pounds divided between the 
 inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia and the 
 government of Pennsylvania, in the same man- 
 ner as herein directed with respect to that of the 
 inhabitants of Boston and the government of 
 Massachusetts. It is my desire that this institu- 
 tion should take place, and begin to operate 
 within one year after my decease; for which 
 purpose due notice should be publicly given, 
 previous to the expiration of that year, that 
 those for whose benefit this establishment is in^ 
 tended may make their respective applications: 
 and I hereby direct my executors, the survivors 
 and survivor of them, within six months after my 
 decease, to pay over the said sum of two thour 
 sand pounds sterling to such persons as shallije 
 duly appointed by the select men of Boston, and 
 the Corporation of Philadelphia, and to receive 
 
DR. FRANKLIN'S WILL. 167 
 
 and take charge of their respective sums of one 
 thousand pounds each for the purposes aforesaid. 
 Considering the accidents to which all human 
 affairs and projects are subject in such a length 
 of time, I have perhaps too much flattered my- 
 self with a vain fancy, that these dispositions, 
 if carried into execution, will be continued 
 without interruption, and have the effects pro- 
 posed; I hope, however, that if the inhabitants 
 of the two cities should not think fit to undertake 
 the execution, they will at least accept the offer 
 of these donations, as a mark of my good will, 
 token of my gratitude, and testimony of my de- 
 sire to be useful to them even after my depar- 
 ture; I wish, indeed, that they may both under- 
 take to endeavor the execution of my project, 
 because I think, that, though unforeseen difficul- 
 ties may arise, expedients will be found to re- 
 move them, and the scheme be found practica- 
 ble. If one of them accepts the money with the 
 conditions, and the other refuses, my will then 
 is, that both sums be given to the inhabitants of 
 the city accepting; the whole to be applied to 
 the same purposes, and under the same regula- 
 tions directed for the separate parts; and if both 
 refuse, the money remains of course in the mass 
 of my estate, and it is to be disposed of there- 
 with, according to my will made the seventeenth 
 day of July, 1788. 
 
 My fine crab-tree walking-stick, with a gold 
 head curiously wrought in the form of the Cap 
 of Liberty, I give to my friend, and the friend 
 of mankind, General Washington. If it were 
 a sceptre, he has merited it y and would be- 
 come it. 
 

 ESSAYS, 
 
 HUMOROUS, MORAL, AND LITERARY 
 
 ON EARLY MARRIAGES. 
 
 TO JOHN ALLEYN, ESQ. 
 DEAR JACK, 
 
 You desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on the sub- 
 ject of an early marriage, by way of answer to the num- 
 berless objections that have been made by numerous persons 
 to your own. You may remember, when you consulted me 
 on the occasion, that I thought youth on both sides to be no 
 objection. Indeed, from the marriages that have fallen 
 under my observation, I am rather inclined to think, that 
 early ones stand the best chance of happiness. The temper 
 and habits of the young are not yet become so stiff and un- 
 complying, as when more advanced in life ; they form more 
 easily to each other, and hence, many occasions of disgust 
 are removed. And if youth has less of that prudence 
 which is necessary to manage a family, yet the parents and 
 elder friends of young married persons are generally at 
 hand to afford their advice, which amply supplies that de- 
 fect ; and, by early marriage, youth is sooner formed to 
 regular and useful life ; and possibly some of those acci- 
 dents or connexions, that might have injured the constitu- 
 tion, or reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. 
 Particular circumstances of particular persons may possibly 
 sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into that state: 
 but, in general, when nature has rendered our bodies fit for 
 it, the presumption is in nature's favor, that she has not 
 judged amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages are 
 often attended, too, with this further inconvenience, that . 
 there is not the same chance that the parents should live to 
 see their offspring educated. ''Late children," says the 
 Spanish proverb, "are early orphans." A melancholy re- 
 15 H [169] 
 
170 ESSAYS. 
 
 flection to those whose case it may be. With us in Ameri- 
 ca, 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 after- 
 noon and evening of cheerful leisure to ourselves, such as 
 our friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we 
 are bJessed with more children ; and from the mode among 
 us, founded by nature, of every mother suckling and nurs- 
 ing her own child, more of them are raised. Thence the 
 swift progress of population among us, unparalleled in 
 Europe. In fine, I am glad you are married, and congratu- 
 late you most cordially upon it. You are now in the way 
 of becoming a useful citizen ; and you have escaped the un- 
 natural state of celibacy for life — the fate of many here, 
 who never intended it, but who having too long postponed 
 the change of their conditions, find, at length, that it is too 
 late to think of it, and so live all their lives in a situation 
 that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd volume of a 
 set of books bears not the value of its proportion to the set; 
 what think you of the odd half of a pair of scissors ; it 
 can't well cut any thing; it may possibly serve to scrape a 
 trencher. 
 
 Pray make my compliments and best wishes acceptable 
 to your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should ere this 
 have presented them in person. I shall make but small 
 use of the old man's privilege, that of giving advice to 
 younger friends. Treat your wife always with respect;, it 
 will procure respect to you, not only from her, but from all 
 that observe it. Never use 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 pro- 
 fession, and }'ou 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. 
 
ESSAYS. 171 
 
 ON THE DEATH OF HIS BROTHER, MR. JOHN FRANKLIN. 
 TO MISS HUBBARD. 
 
 I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and 
 valuable relation. But it is the will of God and nature, 
 that these mortal bodies be laid aside, when the soul is to 
 enter into real life. This is rather an embryo state, a pre- 
 paration for living. A man is not completely born until he 
 •be dead. Why then should we grieve that a new child is 
 born among the immortals, a new member added to their 
 happy society? We are spirits. That bodies should be 
 lent us, while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in ac- 
 quiring knowledge, or doing good to our fellow creatures, is 
 a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become un- 
 fit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of plea- 
 sure, instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and an- 
 swer 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 eases, 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 ot 
 pains and diseases 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 conveni- 
 ently start together; and why should you and I be grieved 
 at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find 
 him? Adieu. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 TO THE LATE 
 DOCTOR MATHER, OF BOSTON. 
 
 REV. SIR, 
 
 I received your kind letter, with your excellent advice 
 to the people of the United States, which I read with great 
 pleasure, and hope it will be duly regarded. Such writings, 
 
172 ' ESSAYS. 
 
 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 lifctle regarded by a former possessor, that several 
 leaves of it were torn out ; but the remaind'er gave me such 
 a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on 1113^ conduct 
 through life; for I have always set a greater value on the 
 character of a doer of good tha'n any other kind of reputa- 
 tion ; and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citi- 
 zen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book. 
 
 You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year. I 
 am in my seventy-ninth. We are. grown old together. It 
 is now more than sixty years since I left Boston ; but I re- 
 member well both your father and grandfather, having heard 
 them both in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. 
 The last time I saw your father was the beginning of 17:24, 
 when I visited him after my fust trip to Pennsylvania. He 
 received me in his library; and, on my taking leave, show- 
 ed me a shorter way out of the house, through a narrow 
 passage, which was crossed by a beam overhead. We were 
 still talking as I withdrew, he accompanying ine behind, 
 and I turning partly towards him, when he said hastily, 
 "Stoop! stoop!" I did not understand him till I felt my 
 head hit against the beam. He was a man who never miss- 
 ed any occasion of giving instruction ; and upon this he 
 said to me: "You are young, and have the world before 
 yx>u : 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 onre 
 hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. I visited it in 
 1733, 1743, 1753 and 1763; and in 1773 I was in England. 
 In 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not 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 employ- 
 ment here; and now I fear 1 shall never have thafhappi- 
 
ESSAYS. 173 
 
 ness. My best wishes nowever attend my deal* country. 
 "Esio perpetual" It is now blessed with an excellent con- 
 stitution : 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 dan- 
 gerous attempts. A breach between us and France would 
 infallibly bring the English again upon our backs : and yet 
 we have some wild beasts among our countrymen, who are 
 endeavoring to weaken that connexion. 
 
 Let us preserve our reputation, by performing our en- 
 gagements; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts; and our 
 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, 
 1 have the honor to be, 
 
 REV. SIR, 
 
 Your most obedient and 
 Most humble servant, 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 'Passy, May 12th, 1784. 
 
 THE WHISTLE. 
 
 A TRUE STORY, 
 
 WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW. 
 
 When I was a child, at seven years old, my friends on 
 a holiday, filled my pockets with coppers. I went directly 
 to a shop where they sold toys for children ; and, being 
 charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way 
 in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered him all 
 my money for one. I then came home, and went whistling 
 all over the house, much pleased with my whistle, but dis- 
 turbing 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. This put me in 
 mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of 
 15* 
 
174 ESSAYS. 
 
 the money; and they laughed at me so much for my folly' 
 that I cried with vexation ; and the reflection gave me more 
 chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure. 
 
 This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the im- 
 pression continuing on my mind ; so that often, when I was 
 tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said to myself, 
 DonH give too much for the ivliistle; and so I saved my 
 money. 
 
 As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the ac- 
 tions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who 
 gave too much for the whistle. 
 
 When I saw any o^ie too ambitious of court favor, 
 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 gave too much for his 
 whistle. 
 
 When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly em- 
 ploying himself in political bustles, neglecting his own af- 
 fairs, and ruining them by that neglect; -He pays indeed^ 
 says I, too much for tJris ivhistle* 
 
 If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfort- 
 able living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the 
 esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent 
 friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth; Poor man, 
 says I, you do indeed pay too much for your whistle. 
 
 When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laud- 
 able improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere 
 corporeal sensations; Mistaken man, says I, you are pro- 
 viding pain for yourself instead of pleasure : you give too 
 much for your whistle. 
 
 If I see one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine 
 equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts 
 debts, and ends his career in prison; JLlas, says I, he has 
 paid dear, very dear, for his ivhistle. 
 
 When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl, married to 
 an illnatured brute of a husband; What a pity it is, says 
 I, that she has paid so much for a whistle. 
 
 In short, I conceived that great part of the miseries of 
 mankind were brought upon them by the false estimates they 
 had made of the value of things, and by their giving too 
 much for their whistles. 
 
ESSAYS. 175 
 
 A PETITION 
 
 TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE SUPERINTENDENCY OP 
 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 I address myself to all the friends of youth, and con- 
 jure them to direct their compassionate regards to my un- 
 happy 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 4 than my sister and my- 
 self, were it not for the partiality of our parents, who made 
 the most injurious distinctions between us. From my in- 
 fancy, 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 pen- 
 cil, 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 neces- 
 sity, 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 at- 
 tack my sister — and I mention it in confidence upon this oc- 
 casion, 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 dif- 
 ference between sisters who are so perfectly equal % Alas ! 
 we must perish from distress: for it would not be in my 
 power even to scrawl a suppliant petition for relief, having 
 been obliged to employ the hand of another in transcribing 
 the request which I have now the honor to prefer to you. 
 
 Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible of the in- 
 justice of an exclusive tenderness, and of the necessity of 
 
176 ESSAYS. 
 
 distributing their care and affection among all their children 
 equally. 
 
 I am, with a profound respect, 
 Sirs, 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 THE LEFT HAND. 
 
 HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG. 
 
 There are two sorts of people in the world, who, with 
 equal degrees of health and wealth, and the other comforts 
 of life, become, the one happy, and the other miserable. 
 This arises very much from the different views in winch 
 they consider things, persons, and events; and the effect of 
 those different views upon their own minds. 
 
 In wnatever situation men can be placed, they may find 
 conveniences and inconveniences: in whatever company, 
 they may find persons and conversation more or less pleas- 
 ing: at whatever table, they may meet with meats and 
 drinks of better and worse taste, dishes belter and worse 
 dressed: in whatever climate, they will find good and bad 
 weather: under whatever government, they may find good 
 and bad laws, and good and bad administration of those 
 laws: in whatever poem, or work, of genius, they may see 
 faults and beauties : in almost every face, and every person, 
 they may discover fine features and delects, good and bad 
 qualities. 
 
 Under these circumstances, the two sorts of people 
 above mentioned fix their attention; those who are disposed 
 to be happy, on the conveniences of things, the pleasant 
 parts of conversation, the well-dressed dishes, the goodness 
 of the wines, the fine weather, &c. and enjoy all with 
 cheerfulness. Those who are to be unhappy, think and 
 speak only of the contraries. Hence they are continually 
 discontented themselves, and, by their remarks, sour the 
 pleasures of society ; offend personally many people, and 
 make themselves every where disagreeable. If this turn of 
 mind was founded in nature, such unhappy persons would 
 be the more to be pitied. But as the disposition to criticise, 
 and to be disgusted, is perhaps, taken up originally by imi- 
 
ESSAYS. 177 
 
 tation, and is, unawares, grown into a habit, which, though 
 at present strong, may nevertheless be cured, when those 
 who have it are convinced of its bad effect on their felicity ; 
 I hope this little admonition may be of- service to then., 
 and put them on changing a habit, which, though in the 
 exercise it is chiefly an act of imagination, yet it has seri- 
 ous consequences in life, as it brings on real griefs and mis- 
 fortunes. For as many as are offended by, and nobody 
 loves, this scfrt of people ; no one snows them more than 
 the most common civility and respect, and scarcely that; 
 and this frequently puts them out of humor, and draws 
 them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at obtain- 
 ing some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes them 
 success, or will stir a step, or speak a word to favor their 
 pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no 
 one will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their 
 misconduct, and render them completely odious. If these 
 people will not change this bad habit, and condescend to be 
 pleased with what is pleasing, without fretting themselves or 
 others about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid an 
 acquaintance with them, which is always disagreeable, and 
 sometimes very inconvenient, especially when one finds 
 one's self entangled in their quarrels. 
 
 An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from ex- 
 perience, very cautious in this particular, and carefully 
 avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, like other 
 philosophers, a thermometer to show him the heat of the 
 weather; and a barometer to mark when it was likely to 
 prove good or bad ; but there being no instrument invented 
 to discover, at first sight, thi3 unpleasing disposition in a 
 person, he, for that purpose, made use of his legs : one of 
 which was remarkably handsome ; the other, by some acci- 
 dent, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at first interview, 
 regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he 
 doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no notice of the 
 handsome leg, that was sufficient to determine my philoso- 
 pher to have no further acquaintance with him. Fvery 
 body has not this two-legged instrument; but every one, 
 with a little attention, may observe signs of that carping, 
 fault-finding disposition, and take the same resolution of 
 avoiding the acquaintance of those infected with it. I there- 
 fore advise those critical, querulous, discontented, unhap- 
 h2 
 
178 ESSAYS. 
 
 py people, if they wish to be respected and beloved by 
 others, and happy in themselves, they should leave off look- 
 ing at the ugly leg. 
 
 CONVERSATION 
 
 |OP A COMPANY QF EPHEMERA ; WITH A SOLILOQUY 
 OF ONE ADVANCED IN AGE. 
 
 TO MADAME BRILLIANT. 
 
 You may remember, my dear friend, that when we late- 
 ly 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 hap- 
 pened to see a living company of them on a leaf, who 
 appeared to be engaged in conversation. You know I un- 
 derstand all the inferior animal tongues; my too great ap- 
 plication to the study of them is the best excuse I can give 
 for the little progress I have made jn your charming lan- 
 guage, 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, J found, however, by some broken expres- 
 sions that I heard now and then, they were disputing warm- 
 ly on the merit of two foreign musicians, one a cousin^ the 
 Other a moscheto ; in which dispute they spent their time, 
 seeming as regardless of the shortness of their life as if they 
 had been sure of living a month. Happy people, thought 
 I, you live certainly under a wise, just, and mild governr 
 ment, since you have no public grievances to complain of, 
 nor any other subject of contention but the perfections or 
 imperfections of foreign music. I turned my head from 
 them to an old gray-headed one, who was single on another 
 leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his solilO? 
 quy, 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 an4 
 heavenly harmony. 
 
essays. m 
 
 11 It was," says he, " the opinion of learned philosophers 
 of our race, who lived and flourished long before my time, 
 that this vast world, the Moulin Joly, could not itself sub- 
 sist 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 to- 
 wards-the ocean at the end of the earth, it must then finish 
 its course, be extinguished in the waters that surround usy 
 and leave the world in cold and darkness, necessarily pro- 
 ducing universal death and destruction. I have lived seven 
 of those houTs j a great age, being no less than four hun- 
 dred 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 chiklrew and grand- 
 children of the friends of my youth, who are now, alas, no 
 more ! And I must soon follow them ; for, by the common 
 course of nature, though still in health, I cannot expect to 
 live above seven or eight minutes longer. What now avails 
 all my toil and labor, in amassing honey-dew on this leaf, 
 which I cannot live to enjoy. What my political struggles 
 I have been engaged in, for the good of my compatriot in- 
 habitants 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 ephemerae 
 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; ani 
 they tell me I have lived long, enough to nature and to glory. 
 But what will fame be to an ephemera who no longer ex- 
 ists? and what will become of all history in the eighteenth 
 hour, when the world itself, even the whole Moulin Joly, 
 shall come to its end, and be buried in a universal ruin?" 
 
 To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures 
 now remain, but the reflection of a long life spent in mean- 
 ing well, the sensible conversation of a few good lady ephe- 
 meras, and now and then a kind smile and a tune from the 
 ever amiable Brilliant. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
180 ESSAYS. 
 
 MORALS OF CHESS. 
 
 Playing at chess is the most ancient and universal game 
 known among men ; for its original is beyond the memory 
 of history, and it has, for numberless ages, been the amuse- 
 ment of all the civilized nations of Asia, the Persians, the 
 Indians, and the Chinese. Europe has had it above a thou- 
 sand years; the Spaniards have spread it over their part of 
 America, and it begins to make its appearance in these 
 States. It is so interesting in itself as not to need the view 
 of gain to induce engaging in it; and thence it is never play- 
 ed 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 acquired or strengthened by 
 it, so as to become habits, ready on all occasions. For life 
 is a kind of chess, in which we have points to gain, and 
 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 learn, 
 
 I. Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, considers 
 the consequences that may attend an action : for it is con- 
 tinually occurring to the flayer, " If I move this piece, 
 what will be the advantage of my new situation? What 
 use can my adversary make of it to annoy me? What 
 other moves can I make to support it, and to defend myself 
 from his attacks?" 
 
 II. Circumspection, which surveys the whole chess- 
 board, or scene of action, the relatione of the several pieces 
 and situations, the dangers they are respectively exposed to, 
 the several possibilities of their aiding each other, the pro- 
 babilities that the adversary may take this or that move, 
 and attack this or the other piece, and what different means 
 
ESSAYS. 181 
 
 can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences 
 against him. 
 
 III. Caution, not to make our moves too hastily. This 
 habit is best acquired by observing strictly the laws of the 
 game, such as, "If you touch a piece, you must move it 
 somewhere ; if you set it down, you must let it stand :" and 
 it is therefore best that these rules should be observed ; as 
 the game thereby becomes more the image of human life, 
 and particularly of war; in which, if you have incautiously 
 put yourself into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot 
 obtain your enemy's leave to withdraw your troops, and 
 place them more securety, but you must abide all the con 
 sequences of your rashness. 
 
 And, lastly, we learn by chess the habit of not being 
 discouraged by present bad appearances in the state of our 
 affairs, the habit of hoping for a favorable change, and 
 that of perseveHng in the search of resources. The game 
 is so full of events, there is such a variety of turns in it, 
 the fortune of it is so subject to sudden vicissitudes, and one 
 so frequently, after long contemplation, discovers the means 
 of extricating one's self from a supposed insurmountable 
 difficulty, that one is encouraged to continue the contest to 
 the last, in hope of victory by our own skill, or at least of 
 giving a stale mate, by the negligence of our adversary. 
 And whoever considers^ what in chess he often sees instan- 
 ces of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce 
 presumption^ and its consequent inattention, by which the 
 loss may be recovered, will learn nut to be too much dis- 
 couraged by the present success of his adversary, nor to des- 
 pair of final good fortune, upon every little check he receives 
 in the pursuit of it. 
 
 That we may, therefore, be induced more frequently to 
 choose this beneficial amusement, in preference to others, 
 which are not attended with the same advantages, every 
 circumstance which may increase the pleasure of it should 
 be regarded ; and every action or word that is unfair, dis- 
 respectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should 
 be avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both 
 the players, which is to pass the time agreeably. 
 
 Therefore, first, If it is agreed to play according to the 
 strict rules, then those rules are to be exactly observed by 
 16 
 
182 ESSAYS. 
 
 both parties, and should not be insisted on for one side, 
 while deviated from by the other — lor this is not equitable. 
 
 Secondly, If it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, 
 but one party demands indulgences, he should then be as 
 willing to allow them to the other. 
 
 Thirdly, No false move should ever be made to extricate 
 yourself out of a difficulty, or to gain an advantage. There 
 can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected in 
 such unfair practices. 
 
 Fourthly, If your adversary is long in playing, you 
 ought not to hurry him, or to express any uneasiness at his 
 delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look at your 
 watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a tapping 
 with your feet on the floor, or with your fingers on the table, 
 nor do any thing that may disturb his attention. For all 
 these things displease; and they do not show your skill in 
 playing, but your craftiness or your rudeness. 
 
 Fifthly, You ought not to endeavor to amuse and deceive 
 your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, 
 and saying that you have now lost the game, in order to 
 make him secure and careless, and inattentive to your 
 schemes; for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the 
 game. 
 
 Sixthly, You must not, when you have gained a victory, 
 use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too 
 much pleasure; but endeavor to console your adversary, 
 and make him less dissatisfied with himself, by every kind 
 of civil expression tnat 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 favor." 
 
 Seventhly, If you are a spectator while others play, ob- 
 serve 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 ; arid him, in whose favor 
 you give it, because, though it be good, and he follows it, 
 he loses the pleasure he might have had, if you had permit- 
 ted him to think until it had occurred to himself. Even after 
 a move or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, 
 show how it might have been placed better; for that dis- 
 pleases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about their 
 
ESSAYS. 183 
 
 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 opportuni- 
 ty, not in criticising, or meddling with, or counselling the 
 play of others. 
 
 Lastly, If the game is not to be played rigorously, ac- 
 cording to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your 
 desire of victory over your adversary, and be 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 
 J 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 af- 
 fection ; together with the silent approbation and good-will 
 of impartial spectators. 
 
 , THE 
 
 ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS. 
 
 j INSCRIBED TO MISS * * *, 
 
 BEING WRITTEN AT HER REQUEST. 
 
 As a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during which 
 we have sometimes pleasing and sometimes painful dreams, 
 it becomes of some consequence to obtain the one kind, and 
 avoid the other; for whether real or imaginary, pain is 
 pain, and pleasure is pleasure. If we can sleep without 
 ■dreaming, it is well that painful dreams are avoided. If, 
 while we sleep, we can have any pleasing dreams, it is, as 
 the French say, tant gagne. so much added to the pleasure 
 of life. 
 
 To this end it is, in the first place, necessaiy to be care- 
 ful in preserving health, by due exercise and great temper- 
 ance ; for, in sickness, the imagination is disturbed ; and 
 
184 ESSAYS. 
 
 disagreeable sometimes terrible, ideas are apt to present 
 themselves. Exercise should precede meals, not immediate- 
 ly follow them : the first promotes, the latter, unless moder- 
 ate, obstnirts digestion. If after exercise we feed sparing- 
 ly, 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 
 night-mares and horrors inexpressible : we fall from preci- 
 pices, 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 will rest 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 eat- 
 ing 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 ma}' come into you, is so unwhole- 
 some as the unchanged air, often breathed, of a close cham- 
 ber. As boiling water does not grow hotter by longer boil- 
 ing, if the particles that receive greater heat can escape; so 
 living bodies do not putrefy, if the particles, as fast as they 
 become putrid, can be thrown off. Nature expels them by 
 the pores of the skin and lungs, and in a free open air, they 
 are earned off; but, in ;i close room, we receive them again 
 and again, though they heroine 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 only 
 to spoil a gallon of air per minute, and therefore requires a 
 .onger time to spoil a chamberful ; but it is done, however, in 
 proportion, and many putrid disorders have hence their ori 
 
ESSAYS. 185 
 
 gin. 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, Methu- 
 salem, and build thee a house, for thou shalt live yet five 
 hundred years longer." Buit Methusalem answered and 
 said ; "If I atn to live but five hundred years longer, it is 
 not worth while to build me a 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 dis- 
 cover likewise, that it is not hurtful to those who are in 
 health; and that we may then be cured of the aerophobia 
 that at present distresses weak minds, and makes them 
 choose to be stifled and poisoned, rather than leave open 
 the window of a bedchamber, 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, such 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 warm- 
 ly covered, found it difficult to get to sleep again. We turn 
 often, without finding repose in any position. This fidget- 
 tiness, 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 bedclothes hav- 
 ing received their quant ity, and, being saturated, refusing 
 to take any more. To become sensible of this by an expe- 
 riment, let a person keep his position in the bed, but throw 
 off the bedclothes, 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 
 
 *What physicians call the perspirable matter, is that vapor 
 which passes off from our bodies, from the lungs, and through 
 the pores of the skin. The quantity of this is said to be five- 
 eiirhths of what we eat. 
 16* 
 
18G ESSAYS. 
 
 receiving, licking up, and carrying off, the load of perspi- 
 rable matter that incommoded it. For every portion of 
 cool air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its 
 part of that vapor, receives therewith a degree of heat, that 
 •rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed away, 
 with its burden, by cooler and therefore heavier fresh air; 
 which, for a moment, supplies its place, and then, being 
 likewise changed, and wanned, 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 
 oody was affected by it. 
 
 Here then is one great and general cause of impleading 
 dreams. For when the body is uneasy, the mind will be 
 disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of various kinds will, 
 m sleep, be the natural consequences. The remedies, pre- 
 ventive and curative, follow : 
 
 1. By eating moderately (as before advised for health's 
 sake) less perspirable matter is produced in a given time; 
 hence the bedclothes receive it longer before they are satu- 
 rated ; and we may, therefore, sleep longer, before we are 
 made uneasy by their refusing to receive any more. 
 
 2. By using thinner and more porous bedclothes, 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 bedclothes 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 drier and 
 colder. When you begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, 
 then return to your bed ; and you will soon fall asleep, and 
 your sleep will be sweet and pleasant. All the scenes pre- 
 sented to your fancy will be of the pleasing kind. I am of- 
 ten as agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery of 
 
ESSAYS. 187 
 
 an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out of bed, 
 you may, instead of it, lift up your bedclothes 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 twen- 
 ty 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 cold 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 situ- 
 ation 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 con- 
 tinuance will render it less tolerable, and the uneasiness 
 may come on while you are asleep, and disturb your ima- 
 gination. 
 
 These are the rules of the art. But though they will gen- 
 erally 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 imper- 
 fect 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. 
 
188 ESSAYS. 
 
 ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. 
 
 WRITTEN ANNO 1748. 
 
 TO MY FRIEND, A. B. 
 
 As you have desired it of me, I vv'rite the following hints, 
 which have been of service to me, and may, if observed, 
 be so to you. 
 
 RememUer that time is money. He that can earn ten 
 shillings a day by his labor, and goes abroad, or sits idle 
 one half of that day, though he spends but sixpence during 
 his diversion or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only 
 expense; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five 
 shillings besides. 
 
 Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his 
 money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the inter- 
 est, or so much as I can make of it during that time. This 
 amounts to a considerable sum where a man has good and 
 large credit, and makes good use of it. 
 
 Remember that money is of a prolific generating nature. 
 Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more, 
 and so on. Five shillings turned is six; turned again it is 
 seven and threepence ; and so on till it becomes a hundred 
 pounds. The more there is of it, the more it produces every 
 turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that 
 kills a breeding sow, destroys all her offspring to the thou-* 
 sandth generation. He that murders a crown, destroys all 
 that it might have produced, even scores of pounds. 
 
 Remember that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. 
 For this little sum (winch may be daily wasted either in 
 time or expense, unperceived,) a man of credit may, on 
 his own security, have the constant possession and use of a 
 hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an 
 industrious man, produces great advantage. 
 
 Remember this saying : "The good paymaster is lord of 
 another man's purse." He that is known to pay punctual- 
 ly and exactly to the time he promises, may, at any time 
 and on any occasion, raise all the money his friends can 
 spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry and 
 frugality, nothing contributes more to the raising a young 
 
ESSAYS. 189 
 
 roan in the world, than punctuality and justice in all his 
 dealings : therefore never keep borrowed money an hour be- 
 yond the time you promised, lest a disappointment shut up 
 your friend's purse for ever. ' 
 
 The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to 
 be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the 
 morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him 
 easy six months longer ; but if he sees you at a billiard-table, 
 or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at 
 work, h<| sends for his money the next day; demands it be- 
 fore he can receive it in a lump. 
 
 It shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe ; 
 it makes you appear a careful as well as an honest man, 
 and that still increases your credit. 
 
 Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and 
 of living accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who 
 have credit fall into. To prevent this, keep an exact ac- 
 count, for some time, both of your expenses and your in- 
 come. If you take the pains at first to mention particulars, 
 it will have this good effect; you will discover how wonder- 
 fully small trifling expenses mount up to large sums, and will 
 discern what might have been, and may for the future be 
 saved, without occasioning any great inconvenience. 
 
 In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain 
 as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, 
 industry and frugality ; that is, waste neither time nor 
 money*, but make the best use of both. Without industry 
 and frugality nothing will do, and with them every thing. 
 He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets (ne- 
 cessary expenses excepted,) will certainly become rich — if 
 that Being, who governs the world, to whom all should 
 look for a blessing on their honest endeavors, doth not in 
 his wise providence otherwise determine. 
 
 AN OLD TRADESMAN. 
 
190 ESSAYS. 
 
 NECESSARY HINTS 
 TO THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH. 
 
 WRITTEN ANNO 1733. 
 
 The use of money is all the advantage there is in having 
 money. 
 
 For six pounds a year you may have the use of one hun- 
 dred pounds, provided you are a man of known prudence 
 and honesty. 
 
 He that spends a groat a day idly, spends idly above 
 six pounds a year, which is the price for the use of one hun- 
 dred pounds. 
 
 He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time per day, 
 one day with another, wastes the privilege of using one hun- 
 dred pounds each day. 
 
 He that idly loses five shillings worth of time, loses five 
 shillings, and might as prudently throw five shillings into 
 the sea. 
 
 He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but 
 all the advantages that might be made by turning it in deal- 
 ing; which, by the time that a young man becomes old, will 
 amount to a considerable sum of money. 
 
 Again ; he that sells upon credit, asks a price for what 
 he sells equivalent to the principal and interest of his 
 money for the time he is to be kept out of it; therefore, he 
 that buys upon credit, pays interest for what he buys; and 
 he that pays ready money, might let that money out to use ; 
 so that he that possesses any thing he has bought, pays in- 
 terest for the use of it. 
 
 Yet, in buying goods, it is beet to pay ready money, be- 
 cause he that sells upon credit, expects to lose five per cent, 
 by bad debts; therefore he charges, on all he sells upon 
 credit, an advance that shall make up that deficiency. 
 
 Those who pay for what they buy upon credit, pay their 
 snare of this advance. 
 
 He that pays ready money escapes, or may escape, that 
 charge. 
 
 A penny saved is twopence clear; 
 A pin a day 's a groat a year. 
 
ESSAYS, 191 
 
 THE WAY TO MAKE MONEY PLENTY IN 
 EVERY MAN'S POCKET. 
 
 At this time, when the general complaint is that — 
 "money is scarce," it will be an act of kindness to inform 
 the moneyless how they may reinforce their pockets. I will 
 acquaint them with the true secret of money-catching — the 
 certain way to fill empty purses — and how to keep them al- 
 ways full. Two simple rules, well observed, will do the 
 business. 
 
 Firsty Let honesty and industry be thy constant compan- 
 ions; and, 
 
 Secondly, Spend one penny less than thy clear gains. 
 
 Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to thrive, 
 and will never again ciy v/ith the empty bellyach; neither 
 will creditors insult thee, nor want oppress, nor hunger bite, 
 nor nakedness freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will 
 shine brighter, and pleasure, spring up in every corner of 
 thy heart. Now, therefore, embrace these rules and be 
 happy. Banish the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, 
 and live independent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not 
 hjde thv face at the approach of the rich, nor suffer the 
 pain of feeling little when the sons of fortune walk at thy 
 right hand : for independency, whether with little or much, 
 is good fortune^ and placeth thee on even ground with the 
 proudest of the golden fleece. Oh, then, be wise, and let 
 industry walk with thee in the morning, and attend thee un- 
 till thou reachest the evening hour for rest. Let honesty be 
 as the breath of thy soul, and never forget to have a penny, 
 when all thy expenses are enumerated and paid : then shalt 
 thou reach the point of happiness, and independence shall 
 be thy shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown ; then 
 shall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop to the silken wretch 
 because he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse because th* 
 hand which offers it wears a ring set with diamonds. 
 
192 ESSAYS. 
 
 AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT. 
 
 A translation of thisJLetter appeared in one of the daily 
 papers of Paris about the year 1784. The following is 
 the original piece, with some additions and corrections 
 made by the Author. 
 
 TO THE AUTHORS OF THE JOURNAL. 
 
 MESSIEURS, 
 
 You often entertain us with accounts of new discoveries. 
 Permit me to communicate to the public, through your pa- 
 per, 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 splendor; but a general inquiry 
 was made, whether the oil it consumed was not in propor- 
 tion 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 mid- 
 night, 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 im- 
 agined, 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 negligent- 
 ly omitted the preceding evening to close the shutters. 
 
 I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found 
 that it was about six o'clock ; and still thinking it was some- 
 thing extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I look- 
 ed 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 
 
ESSAYS. 193 
 
 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 pari of the almanac, will 
 be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his ris- 
 ing 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 repeat- 
 ed this observation the three following mornings, I found 
 always precisely the same result. 
 
 Yet it 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 philo- 
 sopher, has assured me, that I must certainly be mistaken 
 as to the circumstances 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 in- 
 genious arguments to shovy me how I might, by that means, 
 have been deceived. I own that he puzzled- me a little, but 
 he did not satisfy me ; and the subsequent observations I 
 made, as above-mentioned, confirmed me in my first 
 opinion. 
 
 This event has given rise, in my mind, to several serious 
 and important reflections. I considered that, if I had not 
 been awakened so early in the morning, I should have slept 
 six hours longer by the light of the sun, and in exchange 
 have lived six hours the following night by candlelight ; and 
 the latter being a much more expensive light than the for- 
 mer, my love of economy induced me to muster up what 
 little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calcula- 
 tions, 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 
 
 I 
 
194 ESSAYS. 
 
 bougies, or candles, per hour. I think this is a moderate 
 allowance, taking one family with another; for though I 
 believe some consume less, I know that many consume a 
 great deal more. Then estimating seven hours per day, 
 as the medium quantity between the time of the sun's ris- 
 ing 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 bum candles, the account 
 will stand thus : — 
 
 In the six months between the twentieth of March and the 
 twentieth of September, there are Nights 183 
 Hours of each night in which we burn can- 
 dles 7 
 
 Multiplication gives for the total number of 
 
 hours 1,281 
 
 These 1,281 hours multiplied by 100,000, 
 
 the number of inhabitants given 128,100,000 
 
 One hundred twenty-eight millions and one 
 hundred thousand hours, spent at Faris by 
 candlelight, 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 people 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 obstinate- 
 ly attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to in- 
 duce them to rise before noon, conseauently my discovery 
 can be of little use; I answer, Nil desjyerandum. I be- 
 lieve all who have common sense, as soon as they have 
 learnt from this paper, that it is day-light when the sua 
 rises, will contrive to rise with him ; and, to compel the 
 rest, I would propose thefollowing 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. 
 
ESSAYS. 195 
 
 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 w^ax and tallow- 
 chandlers, and no family be permitted to be supplied with 
 more than one pound of candles per week. 
 
 Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all the coaches, 
 &c. that would pass the streets after sunset, except those 
 of physicians, surgeons, and midwives. 
 
 Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the sun rises, let all 
 the bells in every Church be set ringing; and if that is not 
 sufficient, let a 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 nPest que le premier pas qui 
 coute. Oblige a man to rise at four in the morning, and 
 it is more than probable he shall go willingly to bed at eight 
 in the evening; and having had eight hours sleep, he will 
 rise more willingly at four the following morning. But this 
 sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres 
 is not the whole of what may be saved by my economical 
 project. You may observe, that I have calculated upon 
 only one half of the year, and much may be saved in the 
 other, though the days are shorter. Besides, the immense 
 stock of wax and tallow left unconsumed during the sum- 
 mer, will probably make candles much cheaper for the en- 
 suing winter, and continue cheaper as long as the proposed 
 reformation shall be supported. 
 
 For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely com- 
 municated and bestowed by me on the public, I demand 
 neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, or any other 
 reward whatever. I expect only to have the honor of it. 
 And yet I know there are little envious minds who will, as 
 usual, deny me this, and say, that my invention was known 
 to the ancients, and perhaps they may bring passages out 
 of the old books in proof of it. I will not dispute with 
 these people that the ancients knew that the sun would rise 
 at certain hours ; they possibly had, as we have, almanacs 
 that predicted it : but it does not follow from thence, that 
 they knew he gave light as soon as lie rose. This is what 
 
196 ESSAYS. 
 
 I claim as my discovery. If the ancients knew it, it must 
 have been long since forgotten, for it certainly was unknown 
 to the moderns, at least to the Parisians; which to prove, 
 I need use but one plain, simple argument: They are as 
 well instructed, judicious, and pni lent a people as exist 
 any where in the world, all professing, like myself, to be 
 lovers of economy; and, from the many heavy taxes re- 
 quired from them by the necessities of the state, have sure- 
 ly 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 noth- 
 ing. I am, &c 
 
 AN ABONNE. 
 
 SKETCH OF AN ENGLISH SCHOOL. 
 
 FOR THE CONSIDERATION OF THE TRUSTEES OF THE 
 PHILADELPHIA ACADEMY. 
 
 It is expected that every scholar to be admitted into this 
 school be at least able to pronounce and divide the syllables 
 in reading, and to write a legible hand. None to be receiv- 
 ed that are under — years of age. 
 
 FIRST, OR LOWEST CLASS. \ 
 
 Let the first class learn the English Grammar rules, and 
 at the same time let particular care be taken to improve 
 them in orthography. Perhaps the latter is best done by 
 pairing the scholars; two of those nearest equal in their 
 spelling to be put together. Let these strive for victory ; each 
 propounding ten words every day to the other to be spelled. 
 He that spells truly most of the other's words, is victor for 
 that day : he that is victor most days in a month, to obtain 
 a prize, a pretty neat book of some kind, useful in their fu- 
 ture studies. This method fixes the attention of children 
 extremely to the orthography of words, and nlakes them 
 good spellers very early. It is a shame for a man to be so 
 
ESSAYS. 197 
 
 ignorant of this little art, in his own language, as to be per- 
 petually confounding words of like sound and different sig 1 
 nincations ; the consciousness of which defect makes some 
 men^ otherwise of good learning and understanding, averse 
 to writing even a common letter. 
 
 Let the pieces read by the scholars in this class be short; 
 such as Croxall's "Fables, and little stones. In giving the 
 lesson, let it be read to them ; let the meaning of the diffi- 
 cult words in it be explained to them : and let the^m con it 
 over by themselves before they are called to read to the 
 master or usher; who is to take particular care that they do 
 not read too fast, and that they duly observe the stops and 
 pauses. A vocabulary of the most usual difficult words 
 might be formed for their use, with explanations; and they 
 might daily get a few of those words and explanations by 
 heart, which would a little exercise their memories; or at 
 least they might write a number of them in a small book 
 for the purpose, which would help to fix the meaning of 
 those words in their minds, and at the same time furnish 
 every one with a little dictionary for his future use. 
 
 SECOND CLASS 
 
 1 To be taught reading with attention, and with proper 
 modulations of the voice, according to the sentiment and 
 the subject. 
 
 Some short pieces, not exceeding the length of a Specta- 
 tor, to be given this class for lessons (and some of the easier 
 Spectators would be very suitable for the purpose.) These 
 lessons might be given every night as tasks; the scholars to 
 study them against the morning. Let it then be required 
 of them to give an account, first of the parts of speech, 
 and construction of one or two sentences. This will oblige 
 them to recur frequently to their grammar, and fix its prin- 
 cipal rules in their memory. Next, of the intention of the 
 writer, or the scope of the piece, the meaning of each sen- 
 tence and of every uncommon word. This would early ac- 
 quaint them with the meaning and force of words, and 
 give them that most necessary habit of reading with at- 
 tention. 
 
 The master then to read the piece with the proper modu- 
 lations of voice, due emphasis, and suitable action, where 
 17* 
 
198 ESSAYS. 
 
 action is required ; and put the youth on imitating his man- 
 ner. 
 
 Where the author has used an expression not the best, let 
 it be pointed out ; and let his beauties be particularly re- 
 marked to the youth. 
 
 Let the lessons for reading be varied, that the youth may 
 be made acquainted with good styles of all kinds in prose 
 and verse, and the proper manner of reading each kind — 
 sometimes a well-told story, a piece of a sermon, a gene- 
 ral's speech to his soldiers, a speech in a tragedy, some part 
 of a comedy, an ode, a satire, a letter, blank verse, Hu- 
 dibrastic, heroic, &c. But let such lessons be chosen for 
 reading as contain some useful instruction, whereby the un- 
 derstanding or morals of the youth may at the same time be 
 improved. 
 
 It is required that they should first study and understand 
 the lessons, before they are put upon reading them proper- 
 ly; to which end each boy should have an English diction- 
 ary, to help him over difficulties. When our boys read 
 English to us, we are apt to imagine they understand what 
 they read, because we do, and because it is their mother- 
 tongue. But they often read, as parrots speak, knowing 
 little or nothing of the meaning. And it is impossible a 
 reader should give the due modulation to his voice, and pro- 
 nounce properly, unless his understanding goes before his 
 tongue, and makes him master of the sentiment. Accus- 
 toming boys to read aloud what they do not first understand 
 is the cause of those even set tones so common among read- 
 ers, which, when they have once got a habit of using, they 
 find so difficult to correct; by which means, among fifty 
 readers we scarcely find a good one-. For want of good 
 reading, pieces published with a view to influence the minds 
 of men, for their own or the public benefit, lose half their 
 force. Were there but one good reader in a neighborhood, 
 a public orator might be heard throughout a nation with the 
 same advantages, and have the same effect upon his audi- 
 ence as if they stood within the reach of his voice. 
 
 THIRD CLASS. 
 
 To be taught speaking properly and gracefully ; which is 
 near akin to good reading, and naturally follows it in the 
 
ESSAYS. 199 
 
 studies of youth. Let the scholars of this class begin with 
 learning the elements of rhetoric from some short system, so 
 as to be able to give an account of the most useful tropes 
 and figures. Let all their bad habits of speaking, all offen- 
 ces against good grammar, all corrupt or foreign accents, 
 and all improper phrases be pointed out to them. Short 
 speeches from the Roman or other history, or from the par- 
 liamentary debates, might be got by heart, and delivered 
 with the proper action, &c. Speeches and scenes in our 
 best tragedies and comedies (avoiding every thing that could 
 injure the morals of youth) might likewise be got by rote, 
 and the boys exercised in delivering or acting them ; great 
 care being taken to form their manner after the truest 
 models. 
 
 For their farther improvement, and a little to vary their 
 studies, let them now begin to read history, after having got 
 by heart a short table of the principal epochas in chronolo- 
 gy. They may begin with Rollin's Ancient and Roman 
 Histories, and proceed at proper hours, as they go through 
 the subsequent classes, with the best histories of our own 
 nation and colonies. Let emulation be excited among the 
 boys, by giving, weekl}', little prizes, or other small en- 
 couragements to those who are able to give the best account 
 of \Vhat they have read, as to times, places, names of per- 
 sons, &c. This will make them read with attention, and 
 imprint the history well in their memories. In remarking 
 on the history, the master will have fine opportunities of in- 
 stilling instruction of various kinds, and improving the mor- 
 als, as well as the understandings, of youth. 
 
 The natural and mechanic history, contained in the 
 Spectacle de la Nature, might also be begun in this class, 
 and continued through the subsequent classes, by other 
 books of the same kind ; for, next to the knowledge of duty, 
 this kind of knowledge is certainly the most useful, as well 
 as the most entertaining. The merchant may thereby be 
 enabled better to understand many commodities in trade; 
 the handicraftsman to improve his business by new instru- 
 ments, mixtures, and materials, and frequently hints are 
 given for new methods of improving land, that may be set 
 on foot greatly to the advantage of a country. 
 
200 ESSAYS. 
 
 FOURTH CLAP?. 
 
 To be taught composition. Writing one's own language 
 well is the next necessary accomplishment after good speak- 
 ing. It is the writing-master's business to take care that the 
 boys make fair characters, and place them straight and even 
 in the lines : but to form their style, and even to take care 
 that 1 the stops and capitals are properly disposed, is the part 
 of the English master. The boys should be put oil writing 
 letters to each other on any common occurrences, and on 
 various subjects, imaginary business, &c. containing little 
 stories, accounts of their late reading, what parts of authors 
 please them, and why ; letters of congratulation, of com- 
 pliment, of request, of thanks, of recommendation, of 
 admonition, of consolation, of expostulation, excuse, &c. 
 In these they should be taught to express themselves clearly, 
 concisely, and naturally, without affected words or high- 
 flown phrases. All their letters to pass through the master's 
 hand, who is to point out the faults, advise the corrections, 
 and commend what he finds right. Some of the best letters 
 published in their own language, as Sir William Temple's, 
 those of Pope and his friends, and some others, might be 
 set before the youth as models, their beauties pointed out 
 and explained by the master, the letters themselves tran- 
 scribed by the scholar. 
 
 Dr. Johnson's Ethices Elemcnta, or First Principles of 
 Morality, may now be read by the scholars, and explained 
 by the master, to lay a solid foundation of virtue and piety 
 in their minds. And as this class continues the reading of 
 history, let them now, at proper hours, receive some farther 
 instruction in chronology and in that part of geography 
 (from the mathematical master) which is necessary to un- 
 derstand the maps and globes. They should also be ac- 
 quainted with the modern names of the places they find 
 mentioned in ancient writers. The exercises of good 
 reading, and proper speaking, still continued at suitable 
 times. 
 
 FIFTH CLASS. 
 
 To improve the youth in composition, they may now, be- 
 sides continuing {p write letters, begin to write little essays 
 
ESSAYS. 801 
 
 in prose, and sometimes in verse ; not to make them poets, 
 but for this reason, that nothing acquaints a lad so speedily 
 with a variety of expression, as the necessity of finding 
 such words and phrases as will suit the measure, sound, and 
 rhyme of verse, and at the same time will express the senti- 
 ment. These essays should all pass under the master's eye, 
 who will point out their faults, and put the writer on cor- 
 recting them. Where the judgment is not ripe enough for 
 forming new essays, let the sentiments of a Spectator be 
 given, and required to be clothed in the scholar's own 
 words; or the circumstances of some good story : the scholar 
 to find expression. Let them be put sometimes on abridg- 
 ing a paragraph of a diffuse .author : sometimes on dilating 
 or amplifying what is wrote more closely* And now let 
 Dr. Johnson's Noetica, or First Principles of Human 
 Knowledge, containing a logic, or art of reasoning, &c. be 
 read by the youth, and the difficulties that may occur to 
 them be explained by the master. The reading of history, 
 and the exercise of good reading and just speaking, still 
 continued. 
 
 SIXTH CLASS. 
 
 In this class, besides continuing the studies of the preced- 
 ing in history, rhetoric, logic, moral and natural philoso- 
 phy, the best English authors may be read and explained ; 
 as Tillotson, Milton, Locke, Addison, Pope, Swift, the 
 higher papers in the Spectator and Guardian, the best 
 translations of Homer, Virgil, and Horace, of Telema- 
 chus, Travels of Cyrus, &c. 
 
 Once a year let there be public exercises in the hall ; the 
 trustees and citizens present. Then let fine gilt books be 
 given as prizes to such boys as distinguish themselves, and 
 excel the others in any branch of learning, making three de- 
 grees of comparison ; giving the best prize to him that per- 
 forms best, a less valuable one to him that comes up next 
 to the best; and another to the third. Commendations, en- 
 couragement, and advice to the rest, keeping up their 
 hopes, that, by industry, they may excel another time. 
 The names of those that obtain the prize to be yearly print- 
 ed in a list. 
 
 The hours of each dav are to be divided and disposed in 
 
 12 
 
202 ESSAYS. 
 
 such a manner as that some classes may be with the writing 
 master, improving their hands, others with the mathematical 
 master, learning arithmetic, accounts, geography, use of 
 the globes, drawing, mechanics, &c. ; while the rest are 
 in the English school, under the English master's care. 
 
 Thus instructed, youth will come out of this school fitted 
 for learning any business, calling, or profession, except in 
 such wherein languages are required ; and though unac- 
 quainted with any ancient or foreign tongue, they will be 
 masters of their own, which is of more immediate and gen- 
 eral use; and withal, will have attained many other valu- 
 able accomplishments: the time usually spent in acquiring 
 those languages, often wilhout success, being here employed 
 in laying such a foundation of knowledge and ability, as, 
 properly improved, may qualify them to pass through and 
 execute the several offices of civil life, with advantage and 
 reputation to themselves and country. ' 
 
 MODERN INNOVATIONS IN THE ENGLISH 
 LANGUAGE AND IN PRINTING. 
 
 TO NOAH WEBSTER, JUN. ESQ. AT HARTFORD. 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 26, 1789. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 I received some time since your Dissertation on the 
 English Language. It is an excellent work, and will be 
 greatly useful in turning the thoughts of our countrymen to 
 correct writing. Please to accept my thanks for it, as well 
 as for the great honor you have done me in its dedication. 
 I ought to have made this acknowledgment sooner, but 
 much indisposition prevented me. 
 
 I cannot but applaud your zeal for preserving the purity 
 of our language both in its expression and pronunciation, 
 and in correcting the popular errors several of our states are 
 
ESSAYS. 203 
 
 continually falling into with respect to both. Give me 
 leave to mention some of them, though possibly they may 
 have already occurred to you. I wish, however, that in, 
 some future publication of yours, you would set a discoun- 
 tenancing mark upon them. The first I remember, is the 
 word improved. When I left New England in the year 
 1723, this word had never been used among us, as far as I 
 know, but in the sense of ameliorated or made better, ex- 
 cept once in a very old book of Dr. Mather's, entitled, 
 "Remarkable Providences." As that man wrote a very 
 obscure hand, I remember that when I read that word in 
 his book, used instead of the word employed, I conjectured 
 that it was an error of the printer, who had mistaken a 
 short I in the writing for an r, and a y with too short a tail 
 for a v, whereby employed was converted into improved: but 
 when I returned to Boston in 1733, 1 found this change had 
 obtained favor, and was then become common ; for I met 
 with it often in perusing the newspapers, where it frequently 
 made an appearance rather ridiculous. Such, for instance, as 
 the advertisement of a country house, which had been many 
 years improved as a tavern; and, in the character of a 
 deceased country gentleman, that he had been for more than 
 thirty years, improved as a justice of peace. This use of the 
 word improve is peculiar to New England, and not to be 
 met with among any other speakers of English, either on 
 this or the other side of the water. 
 
 During my late absence in France, I find that several 
 other new words have been introduced into our parliamen- 
 tary language. For example, I find a verb formed from 
 the substantive notice. I should not have noticed this^ 
 were it not that the gentleman, &c. Aiso another verb 
 from the substantive advocate : The gentleman who ad- 
 vocates, or who has advocated that motion, kc. Another 
 from the substantive progress, the most awkward and abom- 
 inable of the three : The committee having progressed, 
 resolved to adjourn. The word opposed, though not a new 
 word, I find used in a new manner, as, The gentlemen 
 who are opposed to this measure, to which I have also my- 
 self always been opposed. If you should happen to be of 
 my opinion, with respect to those innovations, you will use 
 your authority in reprobating them. 
 
 The Latin language, long the vehicle used in distributing 
 
204 ESSAYS. 
 
 knowledge among the different nations of Europe, is daily 
 more and more neglected ; and one of the modern tongues, 
 viz: French, seems, in point of universality, to have sup- 
 plied its place. It is spoken in all the courts of Europe; 
 and most of the literati, those even who do not speak it, 
 have acquired a knowledge of it, to enable them easily to 
 read the books' that are written in it. This gives a consider- 
 able advantage to that nation. It enables its authors to in- 
 culcate and spread through other nations such sentiments 
 and opinions, on important points, as are most conducive 
 to its interests, or which may contribute to its reputation, by- 
 promoting the common interests of mankind. It is, perhaps, 
 owing to its being written in French, that Voltaire's Trea- 
 tise on Toleration has had so sudden and so great an effect 
 on the bigotry of Europe, as almost entirely to disarm it. 
 The general use of the French language has likewise a very 
 advantageous effect on the profits of the bookselling branch 
 of commerce ; it being well known, that the more copies 
 can be sold that are struck off from one composition of 
 types, the profits increase in a much greater proportion than 
 they do in making a greater number of pieces in any other 
 kind of manufacture. And at present there is no capital 
 town in Europe without a French bookseller's shop corre- 
 sponding with Paris. Our English bkls fair to obtain the 
 second place. The great body of excellent printed sermons 
 in our language, and the freedom of our writings on politi- 
 cal subjects, have induced a great number of divines, of dif- 
 ferent sects and nations, as well as gentlemen concerned in 
 public affairs, to study it so far at least as to read it. And 
 if we were to endeavor the facilitating its progress, the 
 study of our tongue might become much more general. 
 Those who have employed some part of their time in learn- 
 ing a new language, must have frequently observed, that 
 while their acquaintance with it was imperfect, difficulties, 
 small in themselves, have operated as great ones in obstruct- 
 ing their progress. A book, for example, ill printed, or a 
 pronunciation in speaking not well articulated, would ren- 
 der a sentence unintelligible, which from a clear print or a 
 distinct speaker would have been immediately comprehend- 
 ed. If, therefore, we would have the benefit of seeing our 
 language more generally known among mankind, we should 
 endeavor to remove all the difficulties, however small, that 
 
ESSAYS. 205 
 
 discourage the learning of it. But I am sorry to observe 
 that, of late years, those difficulties, instead of being 
 diminished, have been augmented. 
 
 In examining the English books that were printed be- 
 tween the Restoration and the accession of George the Se- 
 cond, we may observe, that all substantives were begun 
 with a capital, in which we imitated our mother-tongue, 
 the German. This was more particularly useful to those 
 who were not well acquainted with the English, there being 
 such a prodigious number of our words that are bGth verbs 
 and substantives, and spelt in the same manner, though 
 often accented differently in pronunciation. This method 
 has, by the fancy of printers of late years, been entirely 
 laid aside; from an idea, that suppressing the capitals 
 shows the character to greater advantage ; those letters, 
 promi/ent above the line, disturbing its even, regular ap- 
 pearance. The effect of this change is so considerable, 
 that a learned man of France, who used to read our books, 
 though not perfectly acquainted with our language, in con- 
 versation with me on the subject of our authors, attributed 
 the greater obscurity he found in our modern books, com- 
 pared with those of the period above mentioned, to a 
 change of style for the worse in our writers; of which mis- 
 take I convinced him, by marking for him each substantive 
 with a capital, in a paragraph, which he then easily under- 
 stood, though before he could not comprehend it. This 
 shows the inconvenience of that pretended improvement. 
 
 From the same fondness for a uniform and even appear- 
 ance of characters in a line, the printers have of late ban- 
 ished also the Italic types, in which words of importance 
 to be attended to in the sense of the sentence, and words on 
 which an emphasis should be put in reading, used to be 
 printed. And lately another fancy has induced other print- 
 ers to use the round s instead of the long one, which form- 
 erly served well to distinguish a word readily by its varied 
 appearance. Certainly the omitting the prominent letter 
 makes a line appear more even, but renders it less imme- 
 diately legible; as the paring off all men's noses might 
 smooth their features, but would render their physiognomies 
 less distinguishable. Add to all these improvements back- 
 wards, another modern fancy, that gray printing is more 
 beautiful than black. Hence the English new books are 
 18 
 
206 ESSAYS. 
 
 printed in so dim a character as to be read with difficulty 
 by old eyes, unless in a very strong light, and with good 
 glasses. Whoever compares a volume of the Gentleman's 
 Magazine printed between the years 1731 and 1740, with 
 one of those printed in the last ten years, will be convinced 
 of the much greater degree of perspicuity given by the black 
 than by the gray. Lord Chesterfield pleasantly remarked 
 this difference to Faulkener, the printer of the Dublin Jour- 
 nal, who was vainly making encomiums on his own paper 
 as the most complete of any in the world. "But, Mr. 
 Faulkener," says my Lord, "don't you think it might be 
 still farther improved, by using paper and ink not quite so 
 near of a color?" — For all these reasons I cannot but wish 
 our American primers would, in then; editions, avoid these 
 fancied improvements, and thereby render their works more 
 agreeable to foreigners in Europe, to the great advantage of 
 our bookselling commerce. 
 
 Further, to be more sensible of the advantage of clea. 
 and distinct printing, let us consider the assistance it affords 
 in reading well aloud to an auditory. In so doing the eye 
 generally slides forward three or four words before the 
 voice. If the sight clearly distinguishes what the coming 
 words are, it gives time to order the modulation of the voice 
 to express them properly. But if they are obscurely print- 
 ed, or disguised by omitting the capitals or long /' s, or 
 otherwise, the reader is apt to modulate wrong; and, finding 
 he has done so, he is obliged to go back and begin the sen- 
 tence again; which lessens the pleasure of the hearers. 
 This leads me to mention an old error in our mode of print- 
 ing. We are sensible, that when a question is met with in 
 the reading there is a proper variation to be used in the man- 
 agement of the voice : we have, therefore, a point called an 
 interrogation affixed to the question, to distinguish it. But 
 this is absurdly placed at its end, so that the reader does 
 not discover it till he finds that he was wrongly modulating 
 his voice, and is therefore obliged to begin again the sen- 
 tence. To prevent this, the Spanish printers, more sensi- 
 bly, place an interrogation at the beginning as well as at 
 the end of the question. We have another error of the 
 same kind in printing plays, where something often occurs 
 that is marked as spoken aside. But the word aside is 
 placed at the end of the speech, when it ought to precede 
 
ESSAYS. 207 
 
 it, as a direction to the reader, that he may govern his 
 voice accordingly. The practice of our ladies, in meeting 
 five or six together, to form little busy parties, where each 
 is employed in some useful work, while one reads to them, 
 is so commendable in itself, that it deserves the attention of 
 authors and printers to make it as pleasing as possible, both 
 to the reader and hearers. 
 
 My best wishes attend you, being with sincere esteem, 
 
 SIR, 
 Your most obedient and 
 
 Very humble servant, 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 AN ACCOUNT 
 
 OP THE HIGHEST COURT OF JUDICATURE IN PENN- 
 SYLVANIA, VIZ: 
 
 THE COURT OF THE PRESS. 
 
 POWER OF THIS COURT. 
 
 It may receive and promulgate accusations of all kinds r . 
 against all persons, and characters among the citizens of the 
 state, and against all inferior courts; and may judge, sen- 
 tence, and condemn to infamy, not only private individuals, 
 but public bodies, &c. with or without inquiry or hearing, at 
 the court's discretion. 
 
 WHOSE FAVOR, OR FOR WHOSE EMOLUMENT THIS 
 COURT IS ESTABLISHED. 
 
 In favor of about one citizen in five hundred, who by ed- 
 ucation, 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 liberty of accusing 
 
208 ESSAYS. 
 
 and abusing the other four hundred and ninety-nine parts at 
 their pleasure; or th^y may hire out their pens and press to 
 others, for that purpose. 
 
 PRACTICE OF THIS COURT. 
 
 It is not governed by any of the rules of the common 
 courts of law. The accused is allowed no grand jury to 
 judge of the truth of the accusation before it is publicly 
 made; nor is the name of the accuser made known to him, 
 nor has he an opportunity of confronting the witnesses 
 against him, for they are kept in the dark, as in the Spanish 
 court of inquisition. Nor is there any petty jury of his 
 peers sworn to try the truth of the charges. The proceed- 
 ings are also sometimes so rapid that an honest good citizen 
 may find himself suddenly and unexpectedly accused, and 
 in the same moment judged and condemned, and sentence 
 pronounced against him that he is a rogue and a villain. 
 Yet if an officer of this court receive the slightest check 
 for misconduct in this his office, he claims immediately the 
 rights of a free citizen by the constitution, and demands to 
 know his accuser, to confront the witnesses, and have a 
 fair trial by a jury of his peers. 
 
 THE FOUNDATION OF ITS AUTHORITY. 
 
 It is said to be founded on an article in the state constitu- 
 tion, which establishes the liberty of the press— a liberty 
 which every Pennsylvanian would fight and die for, 
 though few of us, I believe, have distinct ideas of its na- 
 ture and extent. It seems, indeed, somewhat like the lib- 
 erty of the press, that felons have, by the common law of 
 England before conviction ; that is, to be either pressed to 
 death or hanged. If by the liberty of the press, we under- 
 stood merely the liberty of discussing the propriety of public 
 measures and political opinions, let us have as much of it 
 as you please; but if it means the liberty of affronting, 
 calumniating, and defaming one another, I, for my part, 
 own myself willing to part with my share of it, whenever 
 our legislature shall please to alter the law; and shall cheer- 
 fully consent to exchange my liberty of abusing others, for 
 the privilege of not being abused myself. 
 
ESSAYS. 200 
 
 BY WHOM THIS COURT IS COMMISSIONED OR CON- 
 STITUTED. 
 
 It is not by any commission from the supreme executive 
 council, who might previously judge of the abilities, integ- 
 rity, 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 here- 
 ditary, as is the court of dernier resort in the peerage of 
 England. But any man who can procure pen, ink, and 
 paper, with a press, a iew types, and a huge pair of black- 
 ing balls, may commissionate himself, and his court is im- 
 mediately 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 splinters, marks you out for the odium of the 
 public, as an enemy to the liberty of the press. 
 
 OF THE NATURAL SUPPORT OP THIS COURT. 
 
 Its support is founded in the depravity of such minds as 
 have not been mended by religion, nor improved by good 
 education. 
 
 Hence 
 
 There is a lust in man no charm can tame, 
 Of loudly publishing his neighbor's shame. 
 
 On eagle's wings immortal scandals fly, 
 While virtuous actions are but born and die. 
 
 DRYDEN* 
 
 Whoever feels pain in heading a good character of hig 
 neighbor, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And of those 
 who, despairing to rise in distinction by their virtues, are 
 happy if others can be depressed to a level with themselves, 
 there are a number sufficient in every great town to maintain 
 one of these courts by subscription. A shrewd observer once 
 said, that in walking the streets of a slippery morning, one 
 might see where the good-natured people lived, by the ashes 
 thrown on the ice before the doors : probably he would have 
 formed a different conjecture of the temper of those whom 
 he might find engaged in such subscriptions. 
 18* 
 
210 ESSAYS. 
 
 OF THE CHECKS rBOPER TO PE ESTABLISHED 
 
 AGAINST THE ABUSES OF POWER 
 
 IN THOSE COURTS. 
 
 Hitherto there are none. But since so mucn has been 
 written and published on the federal constitution; and the 
 necessity of checks, in all 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 winch 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 might return it by a box on 
 the ear; and, if repeated, by a good drubbing; and this 
 without offending against any law : but now the right of 
 making such returns is denied, and they are punished as 
 breaches of the peace, while the right of abusing seems to 
 remain in full force ; the laws made against it being ren- 
 dered ineffectual by the liberty of the press. 
 
 My proposal then is, to leave the liberty of the press un- 
 touched, to be exercised in its full extent, force, and vigor, 
 but to permit the liberty of the cudgel to go with it, pari 
 passu. Thus, my fellow-citizens, if an impudent writer at- 
 tacks your reputation — dearer perhaps to you than your 
 life, and puts his name to the charge, you may go to him as 
 openly, and break his head. If he conceals himself behind 
 the printer, and you can nevertheless discover who he is, 
 you may, in like manner, waylay him in the night, attack 
 him behind, and give him a good drubbing. If your adver- 
 sary hires better writers than himself to abuse you more ef- 
 fectually, you may hire as many porters, stronger than 
 yourself, to assist you in giving him a more effectual drub- 
 bing. 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 
 
ESSAYS. 211 
 
 these extremities, but that we should in moderation content 
 ourselves with tarring and feathering, and tossing in a 
 blanket. 
 
 If, however, it should be thought, that this proposal of 
 mine may disturb the public peace, I would then humbly 
 recommend to our legislators to take up the consideration of 
 both liberties, that of the press, and that of the cudgel; 
 and by an explicit law mark their extent and limits: and at 
 the same time that they secure the person of a citizen from 
 assaults, they would likewise provide for the security of his 
 reputation. 
 
 PAPER. 
 
 A POEM. 
 
 Some wit of old — such wits of old there were — 
 Whose hints show'd meaning, whose allusions care, 
 By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, 
 Call'd clear blank paper every infant mind ; 
 Where still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, 
 Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. 
 
 The thought was happy, pertinent, and true ; 
 Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. 
 I (can you pardon my presumption ?) I — 
 No wit, no genius, yet for once will try. 
 
 Various the papers various wants produce, 
 The wants of fashion, elegance, and use. 
 Men are as various ; and if right I scan, 
 Each sort of paper represents some man- 
 Pray note the fop — half powder and half lace, 
 Nice as a band-box were his dwelling-place : 
 He's the gilt paper, which apart you store, 
 And lock from vulgar hands in the 'scrutoire. 
 
219 ESSAYS. 
 
 Mechanic?, servant?, fanner?, and so forth, 
 Are copy paper, of inferior worth; 
 Less prized, more useful, for your desk decreed, 
 Free to all pens, and prompt at every need. 
 
 The wretch, whom avarice bids to pinch and spare, 
 Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, 
 Ts coarse brownpaper ; such as pedters choose 
 To wrap up wares, which better men will use. 
 
 Take next the miser's contrast, who destroys 
 Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. 
 Will any paper match him? Yes, throughout, 
 He's a true sinking paper, past all doubt. 
 
 The retail politician's anxious thought 
 
 Deems this side always right, and that stark nought, 
 
 He foams with censure; with applause lie raves — 
 
 A dupe to rumors, and a tool of knaves; 
 
 He'll want no type his weakness to proclaim. 
 
 While such a thing as fools-cap has a name. 
 
 The hasty gentleman, whose blood runs high, 
 Who picks a quarrel, if you step awry, 
 Who can't a jest, or hint, or look endure : 
 What is he? What? Touch-paper, to be sure. 
 
 What are our poets, take them as they fall, 
 Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all 1 ? 
 Them and their works in the same class yoiril find ; 
 They are the mere waste-paper of mankind. 
 
 Observe the maiden, innocently sweet, 
 She's fair white paper, an unsullied sheet; 
 On which the happy man, whom fate ordains, 
 May write bis name, and take her for his pains. 
 
 One instance more, and only one I'll bring; 
 
 'Tis the great man who scorns a little thing, 
 
 Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are his o\rri| 
 
 Form'd on the feelings of his heart alone • 
 
 True genuine royal paper is his breast; 
 
 Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best. 
 
ESSAYS. 213 
 
 ON THE ART OF SWIMMING. 
 
 IN ANSWER TO SOME INQUIRIES OF M. DUBOURS * 
 ON THE SUBJECT. 
 
 I am apprehensive that I shall not be able to find leisure 
 for making all the disquisitions and experiments which 
 would be desirable on this subject. I must, therefore, con- 
 tent myself with a few remarks. 
 
 The specific gravity of some human bodies, in compari- 
 son to that of water, has been examined by M. Robinson, 
 in our Philosophical Transactions, vol. 50, page 30, for the 
 year 1757. He asserts that fat persons with small bones 
 float most easily upon water. 
 
 The diving bell is accurately described in our Transac- 
 tions. 
 
 When I was a boy, I made two oval pallets, each about 
 ten inches long, and six broad, with a hole for the thumb, 
 in order to retain it fast in the palm of my hand. They 
 much resembled a painter's pallets. In swimming, I pushed 
 the edges of these forward, and I struck the water with their 
 flat surfaces as I drew them back: I remember I swam 
 faster by means of these pallets, but they fatigued my wrists. 
 I also fitted to the soles of my feet a kind of sandals ; but 
 I was not satisfied with them, because I observed that the 
 stroke is partly given' by the inside of the feet and the an- 
 kles, and not entirely with the soles ef the feet. 
 
 We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are made 
 •of double sailcloth, with small pieces of cork quilted in be- 
 tween it. 
 
 I know nothing of the scaphandre of M.,de la Chapelle. 
 
 I know by experience,, that it is a great comfort to a 
 swimmer, who has a considerable distance to go, to turn 
 himself sometimes on his back, and to vary in other respects 
 the means of procuring a progressive motion. 
 
 When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the method 
 -of driving it away is to give to the parts affected a sudden, 
 vigorous, and violent shock ; which he may do in the air as 
 he swims on his back. 
 
 During the great heats of summer, there is no danger ia 
 
 * Translator of Dr. Franklin's Works into French 
 
214 ESSAYS. 
 
 bathing, however warm we may be, in rivers which have 
 been thoroughly warmed by the sun. But to throw one's self 
 into cold spring water, when the body has been heated by 
 exercise in the sun, is an imprudence which may prove fatal. 
 I once knew an instance of four young men, who, having 
 worked at harvest in the heat of the day, with a view of 
 refreshing themselves, plunged into a spring of cold water: 
 two died upon the spot, a third the next morning, and the 
 fourth recovered with great difficulty. A copious draught 
 of cold water, in similar circumstances, is frequently atten- 
 ded with the same effect in North America. 
 
 The exercise of swimming is one of the most healthy and 
 agreeable in the world. After having swam for an hour or 
 two in the evening, one sleeps coolly the whole night, even 
 during the most ardent heat of summer. Perhaps the pore9 
 being cleansed, the insensible perspiration increases, and 
 occasions this coolness. It is certain that much swimming 
 is the means of stopping a diarrhoea, and even of producing 
 a constipation. With respect to those who do not know 
 how to swim, or who are affected with a diarrhoea at a sea- 
 son which does not permit them to use that exercise, a warm 
 bath, by cleansing and purifying the skin, is found very sal- 
 utary, and often effects a radical cure. I speak from my 
 own experience, frequently repeated, and that of others, to 
 whom 1 have recommended this. 
 
 Yau will not be displeased if I conclude these hasty re- 
 marks by informing you, that as the ordinary method of 
 swimming is reduced to the act of rowing-with the arms and 
 legs, and is consequently a laborious and fatiguing opera- 
 tion when the space of water to be crossed is considerable; 
 there is a method in which a swimmer may pass to great 
 distances with much facility, by means of a sail. This dis- 
 covery I fortunately made by accident, and in the following 
 manner: 
 
 When I was a bo) r , I amused myself one day with flying 
 a paper kite; and, approaching the back of a pond, which 
 was near a mile broad, I tied the string to a stake, and the 
 kite ascended to a very considerable height above the pond, 
 while I was swimming. In a little time, being desirous of 
 amusing myself with my kite, and enjoying at the same 
 time the pleasure of swimming, I returned, and loosing 
 from the stake the string with the little stick which vyas fast- 
 
ESSAYS. 215 
 
 ened to it, went again into the water, where I found, that$ 
 lying on my back, and holding the stick in my hands, I 
 was drawn along the surface of the water in a very agree- 
 able manner. Having then engaged another boy to carry 
 my clothes round the pond, to a place which I pointed out 
 to him, on the other side, I began to cross the pond with 
 my kite, which carried me quite over without the least 
 fatigue, and with the greatest pleasure imaginable. T was 
 only obliged occasionally to halt a little in my course, and 
 resist its progress, when it appeared that, by following too 
 quick, I lowered the kite too much ; by doing which occa- 
 sionally I made it rise again. I have never since that time 
 practised this singular mode of swimming, though I think it 
 not impossible to cross in this manner from Dover to Calais^ 
 The packet-boat, however, is still preferable. 
 
 NEW MODE OF BATHING. 
 EXTRACTS OF LETTERS TO M. DUBOTJR&. 
 
 London, July 28, 17G8. 
 
 I greatly approve the epithet which you give, in your 
 letter of the 8th of June, to the new method of treating 
 the small-pox, which you call the tonic or bracing method ; 
 I will take occasion, from it, to mention a practice to 
 which I have accustomed myself. You know the cold bath 
 has long been in vogue here as a tonic : but the shock of the 
 cold water hath always appeared to me, generally speaking, 
 as too violent, and I have found it much more agreeable to 
 my constitution to bathe in another element— I mean cold 
 air. With this view I rise earl) r almost every morning, and 
 sit in my chamber without any clothe^ whatever^ half an 
 hour or an hour, according to the season, either reading or 
 writing. This practice is not the least painful, but, on the 
 contrary, agreeable ; and if I return to bed afterwards, be- 
 fore I dress myself, as it sometimes happens, I make a sup- 
 plement to my night's rest of one or two hours of the most 
 pleasing sleep that can be imagined. I find no ill conse- 
 quences whatever resulting from it, and that at least it does 
 
216 ESSAYS. 
 
 not injure my health, if it docs not in fact contribute to its 
 preservation. I shall therefore call it for the future a 
 bracing or tonic bath. 
 
 March 10, 1773. 
 
 I shall not attempt to explain why damp clothes occa- 
 sion colds, rather than wet ones, because I doubt the fact; 
 I imagine that neither the one nor the other contributes to 
 this effect, and that the causes of colds are totally independ- 
 ent of wet, and even of cold. I propose writing a short pa- 
 per on this subject, the first moment of leisure 1 have at my 
 disposal. In the mean time, 1 can only say, that having 
 some suspicions that the common notion, which attributes to 
 cold the property of stopping the pores and obstructing per- 
 spiration, was ill founded, I engaged a young physician, who 
 is making some experiments with Sanctorius's balance, to 
 estimate the different proportions of his perspiration, when 
 remaining one hour quite naked, and another warmly cloth- 
 ed. He pursued the experiment in this alternate manner 
 for eight hours successively, and found his perspiration al- 
 most double during those hours in which he was naked. 
 
 , OBSERVATIONS 
 
 ON TliE GENERALLY PREVAILING DOCTRINES OP 
 LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 TO THE SAME. 
 
 Your observations on the causes of death, and the expe- 
 riments which you propose for recalling to life those who 
 appear to be killed by lightning, demonstrate equally your 
 sagacity and humauity. It appears that the doctrines of 
 life and death, in general", are yet but little understood. 
 
 A toad buried in the sand will live, it is said, until the 
 sand becomes petrified ; and then, being inclosed in the 
 stone, it may live for we know not how many ages. The 
 facts which are cited in support of this opinion are too nu- 
 merous and too circumstantial not to deserve a certain de- 
 gree of credit. As we are accustomed to see all the animals 
 
ESSAYS. sir 
 
 with which we are acquainted eat and drink, it appears to ug 
 difficult to conceive how a toad can be supported in such a 
 dungeon. But if we reflect that the necessity of nourishment, 
 which animals experience in their ordinary state, proceed* 
 from the continual waste of their substance by perspiration ; 
 it will appear less incredible, that some animals in a torpid 
 state, perspiring less because they use no exercise, should 
 have less need of aliment; and that others, which are cov- 
 ered with scales or shells, which stop perspiration, such as 
 land and sea turtles, serpents, and some species of fish, 
 should be able to subsist a considerable time without any 
 nourishment whatever. A plant, with its flowers, fades 
 and dies immediately, if exposed to the air without having 
 its roots immersed in a humid soil, from which it may draw 
 a sufficient quantity of moisture to supply that which ex- 
 hales from its substance, and is carried off continually by 
 the air. Perhaps, however, if it were buried in quicksilver, 
 it might preserve, for a considerable space of time, its vege- 
 table life, its smell and color. If this be the case, it might 
 prove a commodious method of transporting from distant 
 countries those delicate plants which are unable to sustain 
 the inclemency of the weather at sea, and which require 
 particular care and attention. 
 
 I have seen an instance of common flies preserved in a 
 manner somewhat similar. They had been drowned in 
 Madeira wine, apparently about the time it had been bot- 
 tled in Virginia, to be sent to London. At the opening of 
 one of the bottles, at the house of a friend where I was$ 
 three drowned flies fell into the first glass that was filled. 
 Having heard it remarked that drowned flies were capable 
 of being revived by the rays of the sun, I proposed making 
 the experiment upon these. The3* were therefore exposed 
 to the sun, upon a seive which had been employed to strain 
 them out of the wine. In less than three hours, two of 
 them by degrees began to recover life. They commenced 
 by some convulsive motions in the thighs, and at length they 
 raised themselves upon their legs, wiped their eyes with 
 their fore feet, beat and brushed their wings with their hind 
 feet, and soon after began to fly, finding themselves in Old 
 England, without knowing how they came thither. The 
 third continued lifeless until sunset, when, losing all hopes 
 of him, he was thrown away. 
 19 K 
 
»1& ESSAYS. 
 
 I wish it were possible, from this instance^ to invent a 
 method of embalming drowned persons in such a manner 
 that they may be recalled to life at any period, however 
 distant: for, having a very ardent desire to see and observe 
 the state of America a hundred years hence, I should pre- 
 fer to an ordinary death, the being immersed in a cask of 
 Madeira wine, with a few friends, until that time, then to 
 be recalled to life by the solar warmth of my dear country ! 
 But since, in all probability, we live in an age too early, and 
 too near the infancy of science, to see such an art brought in 
 our time to its perfection, I must, for the present, content 
 myself with the treat, which you are so kind as to promise 
 me, of the resurrection of a fowl or a turkey-cock. 
 
 PRECAUTIONS 
 
 TO BE USED BY THOSE WHO ARE ABOUT TO UN- 
 DERTAKE A SEA VOYAGE. 
 
 When you intend to take a long voyage, nothing is bet- 
 ter than to keep it a secret till the moment of your depar- 
 ture. Without this, you will be continually interrupted and 
 tormented by visits from friends and acquaintances, who not 
 only make you lose your valuable time, but make you for- 
 get a thousand things which you wish to remember ; so that 
 when you are embarked and fairly at sea, you recollect, 
 with much uneasiness, affairs which you have not termina- 
 ted, accounts that you have not settled, and a number of 
 things which you proposed to carry with you, and which 
 you find the want of every moment. Would it not be atten- 
 ded with the best consequences to reform such a custom, 
 and to suffer a traveller^ without deranging him, to make 
 his preparations in quietness, to set apart a few days, when 
 these are finished, to take leave of his friends, and to re- 
 ceive their good wishes for his happy return. 
 
 It is not always in one's power to choose a captain ; tho' 
 great part of the pleasure and happiness of the passage de- 
 pends upon this choice, and though one must for a time be 
 confined to his company, and be in some measure under his 
 command. If he is a social sensible man, obliging, and of 
 
ESSAYS. 219 
 
 a good disposition, you will be so much the happier. One 
 sometimes meets with people of this description, but they 
 are not common ; however, if yours be not of this number, 
 if he be a good seaman, attentive, careful, and active in the 
 management of his vessel, you must dispense with the rest, 
 for these are the most essential qualities. 
 
 Whatever right you may have, by your agreement with 
 him to the provisions he has taken on board for the use of 
 the passengers, it is always proper to have some private 
 store, which you may make use of occasionally. You ought 
 therefore to provide good water, that of the ship being oftem 
 "bad ; but you must put it in bottles, without which you can- 
 not expect to preserve it sweet. You ought also to carry 
 with you good tea, ground coffee, chocolate, wine of that 
 sort which you like best, cider, dried raisins, almonds, sugar, 
 capillaire, citrons, rum, eggs dipped in oiL, portable soup, 
 bread twice baked. With regard to poultry, it is almost 
 useless to carry any with you, unless you resolve to under- 
 take the office of feeding and fattening them yourself. With 
 the little care which is taken of them on board a ship, they 
 are almost all sickly, and their flesh is as tough as leather. 
 
 All sailors entertain an opinion, which undoubtedly ori- 
 ginated formerly from a want of water, and when it has been 
 found necessary to be sparing of it, that poultry never know 
 when they have drunk enough, and that when water is given 
 them at discretion, they generally kill themselves by drink- 
 ing beyond measure. In consequence of this opinion, they 
 give them water only once in two days, and even then in 
 small quantities: but as they pour this water into troughs 
 inclining on one side, which occasions it to run to the lower 
 part, it thence happens that they are obliged to mount one 
 upon the back of another in order to reach it ; and there are 
 . 6ome which cannot even dip their beaks imjt. Thus con- 
 tinually tantalized and tormented by thirst, they are unable 
 to digest their food, which is very dry, and they soon fall 
 sick and die. Some of them are found thus every morning, 
 and are thrown into the sea; while those Which are killed 
 for the table are scarcely fit to be eaten. To remedy this 
 inconvenience, it will be necessary to divide their troughs 
 into small compartments, in such a manner that each of 
 them may be capable of containing water; but this is sel- 
 dom or never done. On tins account, sheep and hogs &m 
 
220 ESSAYS. 
 
 to be considered as ihe best fresh provisions that one can 
 have at sea; mutton there being in general very good, and 
 pork excellent. ' 
 
 It may happen that some of the provisions and stores, 
 which I have recommended, may become almost useless by 
 the care which the captain has taken to lay in a proper 
 stock : but in such a case you may dispose of it to relieve 
 the poor passengers, who, paying less for their passage, are 
 stowed among the common sailors, and have no right to the 
 captain's provisions, except such part of them as is used for 
 feeding the crew. These passengers are sometimes sick, 
 melancholy and dejected ; and there are often women and 
 children among them, neither of whom have any opportu- 
 nity of procuring those things which I have mentioned, and 
 of which, perhaps, they have the greatest need. By dis- 
 tributing amongst them a part of your superfluity, you may 
 be of the greatest assistance to them. You may restore 
 their health, save their lives, and in short render them hap- 
 py; which always affords the liveliest sensation to a feeling 
 mind. 
 
 The most disagreeable thing at sea is the cookery: for 
 there is not, properly speaking, any professed cook on board. 
 The worst sailor is generally chosen for that purpose, who 
 for the most part is equally dirty. Hence comes the proverb 
 used among the English sailors, that God sends meat, and 
 the Devil sends cooks. Those, however, who have a better 
 opinion of Providence will think otherwise. Knowing that 
 sea air, and the exercise or motion which they receive from 
 the rolling of the ship, have a wonderful effect in whetting 
 the appetite, they will say, that Providence has given sai- 
 lors bad cooks to prevent them eating too much ; or that, 
 knowing they would have bad cooks, he has given them a 
 good appetite to prevent them from dying with hunger. How- 
 ever, if you have no confidence in these succors of Provi- 
 dence, you may yourself, widi a lamp and a boiler, by the 
 help of a little spirits of wine, prepare some food, such as 
 soup, hash, <fec. A small oven made of tin-plate is not a 
 bad piece of furniture; your servant may roast in it a piece 
 of mutton or pork. If you are ever tempted to eat salt beef, 
 which is often very good, you will find that cider is the best 
 liquor to quench the thirst generally caused by salt meat or 
 salt fish. Sea biscuit, which is too hard for the teeth of some 
 
ESSAYS. 221 
 
 people, may be softened by steeping it; but bread double- 
 baked is the best: for being made of good loaf bread cut 
 into slices, and baked a second time, it readily imbibes wa- 
 ter, becomes soft, and is easily digested ; it consequently 
 forms excellent nourishment, much superior to that of bis- 
 cuit, which has not been fermented. 
 
 I must here observe, that this double-baked bread was 
 originally the real biscuit prepared to keep at sea; for the 
 word biscuit, in French, signifies twice baked.* Peas often 
 boil badly, and do not become soft; in such a case, by put- 
 ting a two-pound shot into the kettle, the rolling of the ves- 
 sel, by means of this bullet, will convert the peas into a por- 
 ridge, like mustard. 
 
 Having often seen soup, when put upon the table at sea 
 in broad flat dishes, thrown out on every side by the rolling 
 of the vessel, I have wished that our tinmen would make 
 our soup-basins with divisions or compartments: forming 
 small plates, proper for containing soup for one person only. 
 By this disposition the soup, in an extraordinary roll, would 
 not be thrown out of the plate, and would not fall into the 
 breasts of those who are at table, and scald them. Having 
 entertained you with these things of little importance, per- 
 mit me now to conclude with some general reflections upon 
 navigation. 
 
 When navigation is employed only for transporting ne- 
 cessary provisions from one country, where they abound, to 
 another where they are wanting; when by this it prevents 
 famines, which were so frequent and so fatal before it was 
 invented and became so common ; we cannot help consid- 
 ering it as one of those arts which contribute most to the 
 happiness of mankind. But when it is employed to tran- 
 sport things of no utility, or articles of luxury, it is then un- 
 certain whether the advantages resulting from it are suffi- 
 cient to counterbalance the misfortunes it occasions by ex- 
 posing the lives of so many individuals upon the vast ocean. 
 And when it is used to plunder vessels and transport slaves, 
 it is evidently only the dreadful means of increasing those 
 calamities which afflict human nature. 
 
 One is astonished to think on the number of vessels and 
 men who are daily exposed in going to bring tea from-Chi- 
 
 * It is derived from bis, again, and cuit, baked. 
 19* 
 
222 ESSAYS. 
 
 na, coffee from Arabia, and sugar and tobacco from Ame- 
 rica; all commodities which our ancestors lived very well 
 without. The sugar trade employs nearly a thousand ves- 
 sels; and that of tobacco almost the same number. With 
 regard to the utility of tobacco, little can be said ; and with 
 rpgard to sugar, how much more meritorious would it be to 
 sacrifice the momentary pleasure which we receive from 
 drinking it once or twice a day in our tea, than to encourage 
 the numberless cruelties that are continually exercised in 
 order to procure it for us? 
 
 A celebrated French moralist said, that, when he con- 
 sidered the wars which we foment in Africa to get negroes.; 
 the great number who, of course, perish in these wars; the 
 multitude of those wretches who die in their passage, by 
 disease, bad air, and bad provisions; and lastly, how many 
 perish by the cruel treatment they meet with in a state of 
 slavery; when he saw a bit of sugar, he could not help im- 
 agining it to be covered with spots of human blood. But, 
 had he added to these considerations the wars which we 
 carry on against one another, to take and retake the islands 
 that produce this commodity, he would not have seen the 
 sugar simply spotted with blood, he would have beheld it 
 entirely tinged with it. 
 
 These wars make the maritime powers of Europe, and 
 the inhabitants of Paris and London, pay much dearer for 
 their sugar than those of Vienna, though they are almost 
 three hundred leagues distant from the sea. A pound of 
 sugar, indeed, costs the former not only the price which 
 they give for it, but also what they pay in taxes, necessary 
 to support the fleets and armies which serve to defend and 
 protect the countries that produce it. 
 
ESSAYS. 233 
 
 ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY. 
 
 FROM A LETTER TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN, ESCU 
 WRITTEN IN 1784. 
 
 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 in- 
 terest: 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 interests. By the help of 
 these, artful men overpower their wisdom, and dupe its pos- 
 sessors ; and if we may judge by the acts, arrets, and edicts, 
 all the world over, for regulating commerce, an assembly of 
 great men is the greatest fools upon earth. 
 
 I have not yet, indeed, thought of a remedy for luxury. 
 I am not sure that in a great state it is capable of a remedy ; 
 nor that the evil in itself is always so great as is represented. 
 Suppose we include in the definition of luxury all unneces- 
 sary expense, and then let us consider whether laws to pre- 
 vent such expense are possible to be executed in a great 
 country, and whether, if they could be executed, our people 
 generally would be happier, or even richer. Is not the 
 hope of being one day able to purchase and enjoy luxuries a 
 great spur to labor and industry ? May not luxury there- 
 fore 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 cir- 
 cumstance. The skipper of a shallop, employed between. 
 Cape May and Philadelphia, had done us some small ser- 
 vice, for which he refused to be paid. My wife understand- 
 ing that he had a daughter, sent her a present of a new- 
 fashioned cap. Three years after, this skipper being at my 
 house, with an old farmer of Cape May, his passenger, he 
 
 * Member of parliament for the borough of Calne, in Wiltshire, 
 between whom and our author there subsisted a very close friend- 
 ship. 
 
224 ESSAYS. 
 
 mentioned the cap, and how much his daughter had been 
 pleased with it. " But (said he) it proved a dear cap to our 
 congregation." "How so?" "When my daughter ap- 
 peared with 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 one hundred pounds." " True, (said the farmer) 
 but you do not tell all the story. I think the cap was never- 
 theless an advantage to us; for it was the first thing that 
 put our girls upon knitting worsted mittens for sale at' Phil- 
 adelphia, that they might have wherewithal to buy caps and 
 ribbons there; and you know that that industry has contin- 
 ued, 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 girlswere made happier by having fine caps, but the 
 Philadelphians by the supply of warm mittens. 
 
 In our commercial towns upon the sea-coast, fortunes will 
 occasionally be made. Some of those who grow rich will 
 De 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 public. A shilling spent idly by a fool may be 
 picked up by a wiser person, who knows better what to do 
 with it. It is therefore not lost. A vain silly fellow builds 
 a fine house, furnishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and 
 in a few years ruins himself; but the masons, carpenters, 
 Smiths, and other honest tradesmen, have been by his employ 
 assisted in maintaining and raising their families; the farmer 
 has been paid for his labor, and encouraged, and the estate 
 is now in better hands. In some cases, indeed, certain 
 modes of luxury may be a public evil, in the same manner as 
 it is a private one. If there be a nation, for instance, that 
 exports its beef and linen, to pay for the importation of cla- 
 ret and porter, while a great part of its people live upon 
 potatoes, and wear no shirts; wherein does it differ from the 
 sot, who lets his family starve, and sells his clothes to buy 
 drink? Our American commerce is, I confess, a little in 
 this way. We sell our victuals to the islands for rum and 
 sugar; the substantial necessaries of life for superfluities. 
 
ESSAYS'. 225 
 
 But we have plenty, and live well nevertheless; though by 
 being soberer, we might be richer. 
 
 The vast quantity of forest land we have yet to clear and 
 put in order for cultivation, will 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 sam- 
 ple. The people of the trading towns may be rich and N luxu- 
 rious, while the country possesses all the virtues that tend 
 to promote happiness and public prosperity. Those towns 
 are not much regarded by the country ; they are hardly con- 
 sidered as an essential part of the States ; and the experi- 
 ence of the last war has shown, Viat their being in the pos- 
 session of the enemy did not necessarily draw on the sub- 
 jection 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 labor would produce 
 sufficient to procure all the necessaries and comforts of life; 
 want and misery would be banished out of the world, and 
 the rest of the twenty four hours might be leisure and 
 pleasure. 
 
 What occasions then so much want and misery? It is 
 the employment of men and women in works that produce 
 neither the necessaries nor the conveniences of life ; who, 
 with those who do nothing, consume necessaries raised by 
 the laborious. To explain this : 
 
 The first elements of wealth are obtained by labor from 
 the earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn. With 
 this, if I feed a family that does nothing, my corn will be 
 consumed, and at the end of the year I shall be no richer 
 than I was at the beginning. But if, while I feed them, I 
 employ them, some in spinning, others in making bricks, &c. 
 for building, the value of my corn will be arrested ^nd re- 
 main with me, and at the end of the year we may all be 
 better clothed and better lodged. And if, instead of em- 
 ploying 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 conveni- 
 ence of the family ; I shall, therefore, be the poorer for this 
 
 r2 
 
226 ESSAYS. 
 
 fiddling m"an, 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 employed in 
 doing nothing, or in something that amounts to nothing, 
 when the necessaries and conveniences of life are in ques- 
 tion. What is the bulk of commerce, for which we fight 
 and destroy each other, but the toil of millions for super- 
 fluities, to the great hazard and loss of many lives, by the 
 constant dangers of the sea? How much labor is spent in 
 building and fitting great ships, to go to China and Arabia 
 for tea and coffee, to die West Indies for sugar, to America 
 for tobacco! These tilings 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 Ame- 
 rica, are still in a forest; and a great deal even in Europe. 
 On a hundred acres of this forest, a man might become a 
 substantial farmer; and a hundred thousand men employ- 
 ed in clearing each his hundred acres, would hardly brighten 
 a spot large enough to be visible from the moon, unless with 
 Herschel's telescope ; so vast are the regions still in wood. 
 
 It is, however, some comfort to reflect that, upon the 
 whole, the quantity of industry and prudence among man- 
 kind exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. Hence 
 the increase of good buildings, farms cultivated, and popu- 
 lous cities filled with wealth, all over Europe, which a few 
 ages since were only to be found on the coast of the Medi- 
 terranean; and this notwithstanding the mad wars continu- 
 ally raging by which are often destroyed, in one year, the 
 works of many years' peace. So that we may hope, the 
 luxury of a few merchants on the coast will not be the ruin 
 of America. 
 
 One reflection more, and I will end this long rambling 
 letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies require some ex- 
 pense. The feet demand shoes, the legs stockings; the 
 rest of the body clothing; and the belly a good deal of vic- 
 tuals. Our eyes, though exceedingly useful, ask, when 
 reasonable, only the cheap assistance of spectacles, which 
 
ESSAYS, 237 
 
 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. 
 
 ON THE SLAVE TRADE. 
 
 Reading in the newspapers the speech of Mr. Jackson 
 in congress against meddling with the affaif of slavery, or 
 attempting to mend (he condition of slaves, it put me in 
 mind of a similar speech, made about one hundred years 
 since, by Sidi Mahomet Ibrahim, a member of the divan of 
 Algiers, which may be seen in Martin's account of his con- 
 sulship, 1687. It was against granting the petition of the 
 sect called Erika, or Purists, who prayed for the abolition 
 of piracy and slavery, as being unjust. Mr. Jackson does 
 not quote it: perhaps he has not seen it. If, therefore, 
 some of its reasonings are to be found in his eloquent speech 
 it may not only show that men's interests operate, and 
 are operated on, with surprising similarity, in all countries 
 and climates, whenever they are under similar circumstan- 
 ces. The African speech, as translated, is as follows: 
 
 "Alia Bismillah, &c. God is great, and Mahomet is his 
 prophet. 
 
 "Have these Erika considered the consequences of grant- 
 ing their petition? If we cease our cruises against the 
 Christians, how shall we be furnished with the commodities 
 their countries produce, and which are so necessary for us? 
 If we forbear to make slaves of their people, who, in this 
 hot climate, are to cultivate our lands T Who are to per- 
 form the common labors of our city, and of our families ? 
 Must we not then be our own slaves? And is there not 
 more compassion and more favor due to us Musselmen than 
 to those Christian dogs? We have now above fifty thou- 
 sand slaves in and near Algiers. This number, if not kept 
 up by fresh supplies, will soon diminish, and be gradually 
 annihilated. If, then r we cease taking and plundering the 
 infidels' ships, and making slaves of the seamen and passen- 
 
226 ESSAYS. 
 
 gers, our lands will become of no value, for want of culti- 
 vation ; the rents of houses in the city will sink one half; 
 and the revenues of government, arising from the shares of 
 prizes, must be totally destroyed. And for what? To 
 gratify the whim of a whimsical sect, who would have us 
 not only forbear making more slaves, but even manumit 
 those we have. But who is to Indemnify their masters for 
 the loss! Will the state do it? Is our treasury sufficient? 
 Will the Erika doit? Can they do it? Or would they, 
 to do what they think justice to the slaves, do a greater in- 
 justice to the owners? And if we set our slaves free, what 
 is to be done with them? Few of them will return to their 
 native countries; they know too well the greater hardships 
 they must there be subject to. They will not embrace our 
 holy religion : they will not adopt our manners : our people 
 will not pollute themselves by intermarrying with them. — 
 Must we maintain them as beggars in our streets; or suffer 
 our properties to be the prey of their pillage? for men ac- 
 customed to slavery will not work for a livelihood when not 
 compelled. And what is there so pitiable in their present 
 condition? Were they not slaves in their own countries? 
 Are not Spain, Portugal, France, and the Italian states, 
 governed by desDOts, who hold all their subjects in slavery, 
 without exception? Even England treats her sailors as 
 slaves; for they are, whenever the government pleases, 
 seized and confined in ships of war, condemned not only to 
 work, but to fight for small wages, or a mere subsistence, 
 not better than our slaves are allowed by us. Is their con- 
 dition 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 
 save their immortal souls. Those who remain at home 
 have not that nappiness. Sending the slaves home, then T 
 would be sending them out of light into darkness. 
 
 "I repeat the question, what is to be done with them ? I 
 have heard it suggested, that they may be planted in the 
 wilderness, where there is plenty of land for them to subsist 
 on, and where they may flourish as a free state. But they 
 are, I doubt, too little disposed to labor without compul- 
 
ESSAYS. 229 
 
 sion, as well as too ignorant to establish good government; 
 and the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy, or 
 again enslave them. While serving us, we take care to 
 provide them with everything; and they are treated with 
 humanity. The laborers in their own countries are, as I 
 am informed, worse fed, lodged and clothed. The condi- 
 tion of most of them is therefore already mended, and re- 
 quires no farther improvement. Here their lives are m ■ 
 safety. They are not liable to be impressed for soldiers, 
 and forced to cut one another's Christian throats, as in the 
 wars of their own countries. If some of the religious rnad 
 bigots, who now teaze us with their silly petitions, have, 
 in a fit of blind zeal, freed their slaves, it was not generos- 
 ity, it was not humanity, that moved them to the action; 
 it was from the conscious burden of a load of sins, and 
 hope, from the supposed merits of so good a work, to be ex- 
 cused from damnation. How grossly are they mistaken, in 
 imagining slavery to be disavowed by the Koran ! 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 
 Musselmen, who are to enjoy it, of right, as fast as they 
 conquer it. Let us then hear no more of this detestable pro- 
 position, 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 con- 
 fusion. I have, therefore, no doubt, that this wise council 
 will prefer the comfort and happiness of a whole nation of 
 true believers, to the whim of a few Erika, and dismiss 
 their petition." 
 
 The result was, as Martin tells us, that the divan came 
 to this resolution : "That the doctrine, that the plundering 
 and enslaving the Christians is unjust, is at best proble- 
 matical; but that it is the interest of this state to continue 
 the practice, is clear; therefore, let the petition be reject- 
 ed." And it was rejected accordingly. 
 
 And since like motives are apt to produce, in the minds 
 20 
 
230 ESSAYS. 
 
 of men, like opinions and resolutions, may we not venture 
 to predict, from this account, that the petitions to the parli- 
 ament of England for abolishing the slave trade, to say no- 
 thing of other legislatures, and the debates upon thein, will 
 have a similar conclusion. 
 
 HISTORICUS. 
 March 23, 1790. 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON WAR. 
 
 By the original laws of nations, war and extirpation 
 were the punishment of injury. Humanizing by degrees, 
 it admitted slavery instead of death : a farther step was, the 
 exchange of prisoners instead of slavery : another, to respect 
 more the property of private persons under conquest, and be 
 content with acquired dominion. Why should not this law 
 of nations go on improving? Ages have intervened be- 
 tween its several steps; but as knowledge of late increases 
 rapidly, why should not those steps be quickened ? Why 
 should it not be agreed to, as the future law of nations, that 
 in any war hereafter, the following descriptions of men 
 should be undisturbed, have the protection of both sides, 
 and be permitted to follow their employments in security, 
 viz: 
 
 1. Cultivators of the earth, because they labor for the 
 subsistence of mankind. 
 
 2. Fishermen, for the same reason. 
 
 3. Merchants and traders in unarmed ships, who accom- 
 modate different nations by communicating and exchanging 
 the necessaries and conveniences of life. 
 
 4. Artists and mechanics, inhabiting and working in 
 open towns. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to add, that the hospitals of ene- 
 mies should be unmolested — they ought to be assisted. It 
 is for the interest of humanity in general, that the occasions 
 of war, and the kiducements to it, should be diminished. If 
 rapine be abolished, one of the encouragements to war is 
 taken away ; and peace therefore more likely to continue 
 and be lasting. 
 
ESSAYS. 231 
 
 The practice of robbing merchants on the high seas — a 
 remnant of the ancient piracy — though it may be acciden- 
 tally beneficial to particular persons, is far from being prof- 
 itable to all engaged in it, or to the nation that authorizes it. 
 In the beginning of a war some rich ships are surprised and 
 taken. This encourages the first adventurers to fit out more 
 armed vessels ; and many others to do the same. But the 
 enemy at the same time become more careful, arm their 
 merchant ships better, and render them not so easy to be 
 taken : they go also more under the protection of convoys. 
 Thus, while the privateers to take them are multiplied, the 
 vessels subjected to be taken, and the chances of profit, are 
 diminished ; so that many cruises are made wherein the ex- 
 penses overgo the gains ; and, as is the case in other lotte- 
 ries, though particulars have got prizes, the mass of adven- 
 turers are losers, the whole expense of fitting out all the 
 privateers during a war being much greater than the whole 
 amount of goods taken. 
 
 Then there is the national loss of all the labor of so many 
 men during the time they have been employed in robbing; 
 who besides spend what they get in riot, drunkenness, and 
 debauchery ; lose their habits of industry ; are rarely fit for 
 any sober business after a peace, and serve only to increase 
 the numberof highwaymen and housebreakers. Even the 
 undertakers, who have been fortunate, are by sudden wealth 
 led into expensive living, the habit of which continues when 
 the means of supporting it cease, and finally ruins them : a 
 just punishment for their having wantonly and unfeelingly 
 ruined many honest innocent traders and their families, 
 whose substance was employed in serving the common in- 
 terest of mankind. 
 
 ON THE IMPRESS OF SEAMEN. 
 
 Notes copied from Dr. Franklin's Writing in Pencil in the 
 Margin of Judge Foster's celebrated argument in Favor 
 of the Impressing of Seamen (published in the folio Edi- 
 tion of his works.) 
 Judge Foster, p. 158, "Every man." — The conclusion 
 
 here, from the whole, to a jjart, does not seem to be good 
 
232 ESSAYS. 
 
 logic. If the alphabet, should say, Let us all fight for the de- 
 fence of the whole; that is equal, and may, therefore, be 
 just. But if they should say, Let ABC and D go out 
 and fight for us, while we stay at home and sleep in whole 
 skins; that is not equal, and therefore cannot be just. 
 
 lb. " Employ." — If you please. The word signifies 
 engaging a man to work for me, by offering him such wages 
 as are sufficient to induce him to prefer my service. This is 
 very different from compelling him to work on such terms as 
 
 1 think proper. 
 
 lb. " This service and employment," &c. — These are 
 false facts. His employment and service are not the same. 
 Under the merchant he goes in an unarmed vessel, not 
 obliged to fight, but to transport merchandize. In the king's 
 service he is obliged to fight, and to hazard all the dangers 
 of battle. Sickness on board of king's ships is also more 
 common and more mortal. The merchant's service, too, 
 he can quit at the end of the voyage ; not the king's. — Also 
 the merchant's wages are much higher. 
 
 lb. "I am very sensible," fcc. — Here are two things put 
 in comparison that arc not comparable : viz. injury to sea- 
 men, and inconvenience to trade. Inconvenience to the 
 whole trade of a nation will not justify injusticp to a single 
 6eaman. If the trade would suffer without his service, it is 
 able and ought to be willing to offer him such wages as may 
 induce him to afford his service voluntarily. 
 
 Page 159. "Private mischief must be borne with pa- 
 tience, for preventing a national calamity." Where is 
 this maxim in law and good policy to be found? And how 
 can that be a maxim which is not consistent with common 
 sense? If the maxim had been, that private mischiefs, 
 which prevent a national calamity, ought to be generously 
 compensated b} r the nation, one might understand it: but 
 that such private mischiefs are only to be borne with patience 
 is absurd ! 
 
 Jb. "The expedient," &c. "And," &c. (Paragraphs 
 
 2 and 3.) — Twenty ineffectual or inconvenient schemes 
 will not justify one that is unjust. 
 
 lb. " Upon the foot of," <fec. — Your reasoning, indeed, 
 like a lie, stands but upon one foot; truth upon two. 
 
 Page 160. " Full wages." — Probably the same they 
 had in the merchant service. 
 
ESS a VS. 233 
 
 Page 174. " I hardly admit," &c. — (Paragraph 5.) — 
 When this author speaks of impressing, page 158, he di- 
 minishes the horror of the practice as much as possible, by 
 presenting to the mind one sailor only suffering a " hard- 
 ship," (as he tenderly calls it) in some " particular cases" 
 only ; and he places against this private mischief the incon- 
 venience to the trade of the kingdom. But if, as he sup- 
 poses is often the case, the sailor who is pressed and obliged 
 to serve for the defence of trade, at the rate of twenty five 
 shillings a month, could get three pounds fifteen shillings in 
 the merchant's service, you take from him fifty shillings a 
 month ; and if you have 100,000 in your service, you rob 
 this honest industrious part of society and their poor fami- 
 lies of £250,000 per month, or three millions a year, and 
 at the same time oblige them to hazard their lives in fighting 
 for the defence of your trade ; to the defence of which all 
 ought indeed to contribute (and sailors among the rest) in 
 proportion to their profitsby.it; but this three millions is 
 more than their share, if they do not pay with their persons; 
 but when you force that, methinks you should excuse the 
 other. 
 
 But, it may be said, to give to the king's seamen mer- 
 chants' wages would cost the nation too much, and call for 
 more taxes. The question then will amount to this : whe- 
 ther it be just in a community, that the richer part should 
 compel the poorer to fight in defence of them and their pro- 
 perties, for such wages as they think fit to allow, and pun- 
 ish them if they refuse? Our author tells us that it is He- 
 gal." I have not law enough to dispute his authorities, 
 but I cannot persuade myself that it is equitable. I will, 
 however, own for the present, that it may be lawful when 
 necessary; but then I contend that it may be used so as to 
 produce the same good effects — the public security, without 
 doing so much intolerable injustice as attends the impress- 
 ing of common seamen. In order to be better understood 
 I would premise two things : First. That voluntary seamen 
 may be had for the service, if they were sufficiently paid. 
 The proof is, that to serve in the same ship, and incur the 
 same dangers, you have no occasion to impress captains, 
 lieutenants, second lieutenants, midshipmen, pursers, nor 
 many other officers. Why, but that the profits of their 
 places, or the emoluments expected, are sufficient induce- 
 20* 
 
294 ESSAYS. 
 
 ments 1 ? The business then is, to find money, by impressing, 
 sufficient to make the sailors all volunteers, as well as their 
 officers; and this without any fresh burden upon trade. — 
 The second of my premises is, that twenty five shillings a 
 month, with his share of the salt beef, pork, and peas-pud- 
 ding, being found sufficient for the subsistence of a hard- 
 working seaman, it will certainly be so for a sedentary scho- 
 lar or gentleman. I would then propose to form a treasury, 
 out of which encouragements to seamen should be paid. To 
 fill this treasury, I would impress a number of civil officers, 
 who at present have great salaries, oblige them to serve in 
 their respective offices for twenty five shillings a month with 
 their share of mess provisions, and throw the rest of their 
 salaries into the seaman's treasury. If such a press-war- 
 rant were given me to execute, the first I would press 
 should be a Recorder of Bristol, or a Mr. Justice Foster, be- 
 cause I might have need of his edifying example, to show 
 how much impressing ought to be borne with ; for he would 
 certainly find, that though to be reduced to twenty five shil- 
 lings a month might be a "private mischief f^ yet that agree- 
 ably to his maxim of law and good policy, it *' ought to he 
 borne with patience ," for preventing a national calamity. 
 Then I \yould press the rest of the judges; and opening the 
 red book, I would press every civil officer of government, 
 from £50 a year salary up to £50,000, which would throw 
 an immense sum into our treasury : and these gentlemen 
 could not complain, since they would receive twenty-five 
 shillings a month, and their rations ; and this without being 
 obliged to fight. Lastly, I think I would impress * * * 
 
ESSAYS. 235 
 
 ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS, AND THE PRAC- 
 TICE OF PRIVATEERING. 
 
 LETTER TO BENJAMIN VAUGHAN, ESa. 
 
 MY dear friend, March 14, 1785. 
 
 Among the pamphlets you lately sent me was one, enti- 
 tled, Thoughts on Executive Justice. In return for that, I 
 send you a French one on the same subject, Observations 
 toncernant V Execution de V Article II. de la Declaration 
 sur le Vol. They are both addressed to the judges, but writ- 
 ten, as you will see, in a very different spirit. The English 
 author is for hanging all thieves. The Frenchman is for 
 proportioning punishments to offences. 
 
 If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that the 
 law of Moses was the law of God, the dictate of divine 
 wisdom, infinitely superior to human; on what principles 
 do we ordain death as the punishment of an offence, which, 
 according to that law, was only to be punished by a restitu- 
 tion of fourfold? To put a man to death for an offence 
 which does not deserve death, is it not a murder? And, as 
 the French writer says, Doit-on panir un delit contre la 
 societe par un crime contre la nature 7 
 
 Superfluous property is the creature of society. Simple 
 and mild laws were sufficient to guard the property that was 
 merely necessary. The savage's bow, his hatchet, and his 
 coat of skins, were sufficiently secured, without law, by the 
 fear of personal resentment and retaliation. When, by vir- 
 tue of the first laws, part of the society accumulated wealth 
 and grew powerful, they enacted others more severe, and 
 would protect their property at the expense of humanity. 
 This was abusing their power, and commencing a tyranny. 
 If a savage, before he entered into society, had been told — 
 " Your neighbor, by this means, may become owner of a 
 hundred deer; but if your brother, or your son, or yourself, 
 having no deer of your own, and being hungry, should kill 
 one, an infamous death must be the consequence," he 
 would probably have preferred his liberty, and his common 
 right of killing any deer, to all the advantages of society 
 that might be proposed to him. 
 That it is better a hundred guilty persons should escape, 
 
236 ESSAYS. 
 
 than that one innocent person should suffer, is a maxim that 
 has been lona; and generally approved ; never, that I know 
 of, controverted. Even the sanguinary author of the 
 Thoughts agrees to it, adding well, " that the very thought 
 of injured innocence, and much more that of suffering 
 innocence, must awaken all our tenderest and most com- 
 passionate feelings, and at the same time raise our highest 
 indignation against the instruments of it. But," he adds, 
 u there is no danger of either, from a strict adherence to the 
 laws/' Really! — is it then impossible to make an unjust 
 law ; and if the law itself be unjust, may it not be the very 
 "instrument" which ought " to raise the author's and every 
 body's highest indignation?" 1 see in the last newspapers 
 from London, that a woman is capitally convicted at the 
 Old Bailey, for privately stealing out of a shop some gauze, 
 value fourteen shillings and three pence. Is there any pro- 
 portion between the injury done by a theft, value fourteen 
 shillings and three pence, and the punishment ol a human 
 creature, by death, on a gibbet? Might not that woman, by 
 her labor, have made the reparation ordained by God in 
 paying fourfold ? Is not all punishment inflicted beyond 
 the merit of the offence, so much punishment of innocence? 
 In this light, how vast is the annual quantity, of not only 
 injured but suffering innocence, in almost all the civilized 
 states of Europe ! 
 
 But it seems to have been thought, that this kind of inno- 
 cence may be punished by way of preventing crimes. I 
 have read, indeed, of a cruel Turk in Barbary, who when- 
 ever he bought a new Christian slave, ordered him immedi- 
 ately to be hung up by the legs, and to receive a hundred 
 blows of a cudgel on the soles of his feet, that the severe 
 sense of the punishment, and fear of incurring it thereafter, 
 might prevent the faults that should merit it. Our author 
 himself would hardly approve entirely of this Turk's con- 
 duct in the government of slaves ; and yet he appears to 
 recommend something like it for the government of English 
 subjects, when he applauds the reply of Judge Burnet to 
 the convict horse-stealer ; who, being asked what he had to 
 say why judgment of death should not pass against him, 
 and answering, that it was hard to hang a man for only 
 stealing a horse, was told by the judge, " Man, thou art not 
 to be hanged only for stealing a horse, but that horses may 
 
ESSAYS. 237 
 
 not be stolen." The man's answer, if candidly examined, 
 will, I imagine, appear reasonable, as being founded on the 
 eternal principle of justice and equity, that punishments 
 should be proportioned to offences ; and the judge's reply 
 brutal and Unreasonable, though the writer "wishes alt 
 judges to carry it with them whenever they go to the circuit, 
 and to bear it in their minds, as containing a wise reason for 
 all the penal statutes which they are called upon to put in 
 execution. It at once illustrates," says he, "the true grounds 
 and reasons of all capital punishments whatsoever, namely, 
 that every man's property, as well as his life, may be held 
 sacred and inviolate." Is there then no difference in value 
 between properly and life?- If I think it right that the crime 
 of murder should be punished with death, not only as an 
 equal punishment of the crime, but to prevent other mur- 
 ders, does it follow that I must approve of inflicting the 
 same punishment for a little invasion on my property by 
 theft? If I am not myself so barbarous, so bloody-minded, 
 and revengeful, as to kill a fellow-creature for stealing from 
 me fourteen shillings and three pence, how can I approve 
 of a law that does it? Montesquieu, who was himself a 
 judge, endeavors to impress other maxims. He must 
 have known what humane judges feel on such occasions, 
 and what the effect of those feelings ; and, so far from 
 thinking that severe and excessive punishments prevent 
 crimes, he asserts, as quoted by our French writer, that 
 
 ■'L'atrocite des loix en empeche l'execution. 
 
 "Lorsqne la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent oblige de lui 
 preferer Tiinpuiiite. 
 
 "La cause do tous les relachemens vient de l'impunite des crimes, 
 et non de la moderation des peines." 
 
 It is said by those who know Europe generally, that there 
 are more thefts committed and punished annually in En- 
 gland, than in all the other nations put together. If this be 
 so, there must be a cause or causes for such a depravity in 
 our common people. May not one be the deficiency of 
 justice and morality in our national government, manifest- 
 ed in our oppressive conduct to subjects, and unjust wars 
 on our neighbors? View the long-persisted in, unjust, mo- 
 nopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length acknowledged ! 
 View the plundering government exercised by our mer- 
 chants in the Indies; the confiscating war made upon the 
 
238 ESSAYS. 
 
 American colonics; and to say nothing of those made upon 
 Fiance and Spain, view the late war upon Holland, which 
 was seen by impartial Europe in no other light than that of a 
 war of rapine and pillage; the hopes of an immense 
 and easy prey being its only apparent, and probably its true 
 and real, motive and encouragement. Justice is as strictly 
 due between neighbor nations, as between neighbor citizens. 
 A highwayman is as much a robber when he plunders in a 
 gang, as when single; and a nation that makes an unjust 
 war is only a great gang. After employing your people in 
 robbing the Dutch, is it strange, that, being put out of that 
 employ by peace, they still continue robbing, and rob one 
 another! Piratcrie, as the French call it, or privateering, 
 is the universal bent of the English nation, at home and 
 abroad, wherever settled. No less than seven hundred 
 privateers were, it is said, commissioned in the last war! 
 These were fitted out by merchants, to prey upon other 
 merchants, who had never done them any injury. Is there 
 probably anyone of those privateering merchants of London, 
 who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that 
 would not as readily plunder another London merchant, of 
 the next street, if he could do it with the same impunity? 
 The avidity, the alieni hppctens is the same ; it is the fear 
 alone of the gallows that makes the difference. How then 
 can a nation, which among the honestest of its people, has 
 so many thieves by inclination, and whose government en- 
 couraged and commissioned no less than seven hundred 
 gangs of robbers; how can such a nation have the face to 
 condemn the crime in individuals, and hang up twenty of 
 them in a morning! It naturally puts one in mind of a 
 Newgate anecdote. One of the prisoners complained, that 
 in the night somebody had taken his buckles out of his 
 shoes. "What the devil 1" says another, "have we then 
 thieves amongst us? It must not be suffered. Let us 
 search out the rogue, and pump him to death." 
 
 There is, however, one late instance of an English mer- 
 chant who will not profit by such ill-gotten gain. He was, 
 it seems, part owner of a ship, which the other owners 
 thought fit to employ as a letter of marque, which took a 
 number of French prizes. The booty being shared, he has 
 now an agent here inquiring, by an advertisement in the 
 Gazette, for those who have suffered the loss, in order to 
 
ESSAYS. 239 
 
 make them, as far as in him lies, restitution. This consci- 
 entious man is a quaker. The Scotch presbyterians were 
 formerly as tender; for there is still extant an ordinance of 
 the town council of Edinbugh, made soon after the Refor- 
 mation, "forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under pain 
 of losing the freedom of the burgh for ever, with other pun- 
 ishment at the will of the magistrate ; the practice of ma- 
 king prizes being contrary to good conscience, and the rule 
 of treating Christian brethren as we would wish to be treat- 
 ed ; and such goods are not to be sold by any godly man 
 within this burgh." The race of these godly men in Scot- 
 land are probably extinct, or their principles abandoned, 
 since, as far as that nation had a hand in promoting the war 
 agamst the colonies, prizes and confiscations are believed to 
 have been a considerable motive. 
 
 . It has been for some time a generally received opinion, 
 that a military man is not to inquire whether a war be just 
 or unjust; he is to execute his orders. All princes, who are 
 disposed to become tyrants, must probably approve of this 
 opinion, and be willing to establish it; but is it not a dan- 
 gerous one? since, on that principle, if the tyrant com- 
 mands his army to attack and destroy not only an unoffend- 
 ing neighbor nation, but even his own subjects, the army is 
 bound to obey. A negro slave, in our colonies, being com- 
 manded by his master to rob or murder a neighbor, or do 
 any other immoral act, may refuse ; and the magistrate will 
 protect him in his refusal. The slavery then of a soldier is 
 worse than that of a negro ! A conscientious officer, if not 
 restrained by the apprehension of its being imputed to ano- 
 ther cause, may indeed resign, rather than be employed in 
 an unjust war; but the private men are slaves for life, and 
 they are, perhaps, incapable of judging for themselves. We 
 can only lament their fate, and still more that of a sailor, 
 who is often dragged by force from his honest occupation, 
 and compelled to imbrue his hands in perhaps innocent 
 blood. But, methinks, it well behoves merchants (men 
 more enlightened by their education, and perfectly free from 
 any such force or obligation) to consider well of the justice 
 of a war, before they voluntarily engage a gang of ruffians 
 to attack their fellow merchants of a neighboring nation, to 
 plunder them of their property, and perhaps ruin them and 
 their families, if they yield it ; or to wound, maim, and mur- 
 
240 ESSAYS. 
 
 der the-m, if they endeavor to defe-nd it. Yet these things 
 are done by Christian merchants, whether a war be jnst or 
 unjust; and it can hardly be just on both sides. They are 
 done by English and American merchants, who, neverthe- 
 less, complain of private theft, and hang by dozens the 
 thieves they have taught by their own example. 
 
 It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were 
 put to this enormity. The United States of America, though 
 better situated than any European nation to make profit by 
 privateering (most of the trade of Europe with the West 
 Indies, passing before their doors) are, as far as in them 
 lies, endeavoring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all 
 their treaties with other powers, an article, engaging sol- 
 emnly, that, in case of future war, no privateer shall be 
 commissioned on either side; and that unarmed merchant 
 ships, on both sides T shall pursue their voyages unmo- 
 lested.* 
 
 This will be a happy improvement of the law of nations. 
 
 * Tin's offer having been accepted by the late Kins; of Prussia, a 
 treaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that mon- 
 arch and the United States, containing the following humane, phi- 
 lanthropic article; in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one 
 of the American plenipotentiaries, was principally concerned, viz- 
 
 Art. XXIII. If war should arise between the two contracting 
 parties, the merchants of either country, then residing in the other,, 
 shall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and 
 settle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying off all their ef- 
 fects withoot molestation or hinderancc; and all women and chil- 
 dren, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, artisans, 
 manufacturers, and fishermen, unarmed, and inhabiting unfortified 
 towns, villages, and places, and, in general, all others whose occu- 
 pations are for the common subsistence and benefit of 'mankind,, 
 shall be allowed to continue their respective employments, and 
 shall not he molested in their Dersons, nor shall their houses or 
 goods be burnt, or otherwise destroyed, nor their fields wasted by 
 the armed force of the enemy into whose power, by the events of 
 war, they may happen to fail; but if any thing is necessary to be 
 taken from them for the use of such armed force, the same shall be 
 paid for at a reasonable price. And all merchants and trading 
 vessels employed in exchanging the products of different places, 
 and thereby rendering the necessaries, conveniences, and comforts 
 of human Fife more easy to be obtained, and more general, shall be 
 allowed to pass free and unmolested : and neither of the contract- 
 ing powers shall grant or issue any commission to any private 
 armed vessels, empowering them to take or destroy such trading 
 vessels, or interrupt such commerce. 
 
ESSAYS. 24 1 
 
 The humane and the just cannot but wish general success to 
 the proposition. 
 
 With unchangeable esteem and affection, 
 I am, my dear friend, 
 
 Ever yours. 
 
 REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES OF 
 NORTH AMERICA. 
 
 Savages we call them, because their manners differ from 
 ours, which we think the perfection of civility; they think 
 the same of theirs. 
 
 Perhaps if we could examine the manners of different 
 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 the 
 counsel or advice of the sages : there is no force, there are 
 no prisons, no officers, to compel obedience, or inflict pun- 
 ishment. 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 chil- 
 dren, and preserve and hand down to posterity the memory 
 of public transactions. These employments of men and 
 women are accounted natural and honorable. Having few 
 artificial wants, they have abundance of leisure for im- 
 provement in 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 Vir- 
 ginia acquainted the Indians by a speech, that there was at 
 Williamsburgh a college, with a fund, for educating Indian 
 youth ; and if the chiefs of the Six Nations would send 
 down half a dozen of their sons to that college, the gove*R» 
 21 L 
 
212 ESSAYS, 
 
 ment would take care that they should Lie 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 pub- 
 lic 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 impor- 
 tant. They therefore deferred their answer till the day fol- 
 lowing: when their speaker began, by expressing their deep 
 sense of the kindness of the Virginia government, in ma- 
 king them that offer; "for we know," says he, "that you 
 highly esteem the kind of learning taught in those colleges, 
 and that the maintenance of our young men, while with 
 you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, 
 therefore, that you mean to do us good by your proposal ; 
 and we thank you heartily. But you who arc wise must 
 know, that different nations have different conceptions of 
 things; and you will therefore not take it amiss? if our ideas 
 of tins 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 scien- 
 ces; 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 cab- 
 in, take a deer, or kill an enemy ; spoke our language im- 
 perfectly ; were therefore neither fit for hunters, warriors, or 
 counsellors : they were totally good for nothing. We are 
 however, not the less obliged by your kind offer, though we 
 decline accepting of it ; and to show our grateful sense of it, 
 if the gentlemen of Virginia will send us a dozen of their 
 sons, we will take great care of their 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 pass- 
 es, imprint it in their memories? for they have no writing, 
 and communicate it to the children. They are the records 
 of the council, and they preserve tradition of the stipula- 
 tions in treaties a hundred years back ; which, when we 
 compare with our writings, we always find exact. He that 
 
ESSAYS. 243 
 
 would speak rises. The rest observe a profound silence. 
 When he has finished, and sits down, they leave him five or 
 six minutes to recollect, that, if he has omitted any thing 
 he intended to say, or has any thing to add, he may rise 
 again, and deliver it. To interrupt another, even in com- 
 mon conversation, is reckoned highly, indecent. How dif- 
 ferent this is from the conduct of a polite British House of 
 Commons, where scarce a day passes without some confu- 
 sion, that makes the speaker hoarse in calling to order; and 
 how different from the mode of conversation, in many polite 
 companies of Europe, where, if you do not deliver your 
 sentences with great rapidity, you are cut off in the middle 
 of it by the impatient loquacity of those you converse with, 
 and never suffered to finish it ! 
 
 The politeness of these savages m conversation is indeed 
 carried to excess; since it does not permit them to contra- 
 dict or deny the truth of what is asserted in their presence. 
 By this means they, indeed, avoid disputes; but then it be- 
 comes difficult to know their minds, or what impression you 
 make upon them. The missionaries, who have attempted 
 to convert them to Christianity, all complain of this as one 
 of the great difficulties of their mission. The Indians hear 
 with patience the truths of the gospel explained to them, 
 and give their usual tokens of assent and approbation : you 
 would think they were convinced. No such matter — it is 
 mere civility. 
 
 A Swedish minister having assembled the chiefs of the 
 Susquehannah Indians, made a sermon to them, acquaint- 
 ing them with the principal historical facts on which our 
 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 sufferings, &c.-^-When he had finished, 
 an Indian orator stood up to thank him. "What you have 
 told us," says he, "is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat 
 apples. It is better to make them all into cider. We are 
 much obliged by your kindness in coming so far to tell us 
 those things which you have heard from your mothers. In 
 return, I will tell you some of those which we have heard 
 from ours. 
 
 "In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh of ani- 
 mals to subsist on ; and if their hunting was unsuccessful, 
 they were starving. Two of our young hunters having kill- 
 
244 ESSAYS. 
 
 ed a fleer, made a fire in the woods to broil some parts of 
 it. When they were about to satisfy their hunger, they be- 
 held 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 
 perhaps has smelt our broiled venison, and wishes to eat of 
 it; let us offer some to her. They presented her with the 
 tongue : she was pleased with the taste of it, and said, 
 'Your kindness shall be rewarded. Come to this place after 
 thirteen moons, and you shall find something that will be of 
 great benefit in nourishing you and your children to the la- 
 test generations. They did so, and to their surprise, found 
 plants they had never seen before ; but which, from that an- 
 cient 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 touched it, 
 they found kidney-beans ; and where her backside had sat 
 on it, they found tobacco." The good missionary disgusted 
 with this idle tale, said, u What I delivered to you were sa- 
 cred truths; but what you tell me is mere fable, fiction, and 
 falsehood." The Indian, offended, replied, "My brother, 
 it seems your friends have not done you justice in your edu- 
 cation; they have not well instructed you in the rule6 of 
 common civility. You saw that we, who understand and 
 practise those rules, believed all your stories, why do you 
 refuse to believe ours?" 
 
 When any of them come into our towns, our people are 
 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 entering one another's villages has like- 
 wise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling strangers 
 to enter a village abruptly, without giving notice of their ap- 
 proach. Therefore, as soon as they arrive within hearing, 
 they stop and halloo, remaining there till invited to enter. 
 Two old men usually come out to them and lead them in. 
 There is in every village a vacant dwelling, called the stran- 
 
ESSAYS. 245 
 
 ger's house. Here they are placed, while the oldmeri go 
 round from hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that 
 strangers are arrived, 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 refreshed, 
 pipes and tobacco are brought : and then, but not before, 
 conversation begins, with inquiries who they are, whither 
 bound, what- news, &c. and it usually ends with offers of 
 service, if the strangers have occasion for guides, or any ne- 
 cessaries for continuing their journey ; and nothing is exact- 
 ed for the entertainment. 
 
 The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a princi- 
 pal virtue, is practised by private persons; of which Conrad 
 Weiser, our interpreter, gave me the following instance. 
 He had been naturalized among the Six Nations, and spoke 
 well the Mohuck language. In going through the Indian 
 country, to carry a message from our governor to the coun- 
 cil at Onondaga, he called at the habitation of Canassete- 
 go, an old acquaintance, who embraced him, spread furs for 
 him to sit on, placed before him some boiled beans and ven- 
 ison, and mixed some rum and water for his drink. When 
 he was well refreshed, and had lit his pipe, Canassetego be- 
 gan to converse with him : asked him how he had fared the 
 many years since they had seen each other, whence he then 
 came, what occasioned the journey, &c. Conrad 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 cus- 
 toms; I have been sometimes at Albany, and have observed 
 that once in seven days they shut up their shops, and as- 
 semble all in the great house; tell me what it is for? What 
 do they do there V "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 
 used generally to deal with Hans Hanson ; but I was a little 
 inclined this time to try some other merchants. However, 
 I called first upon Hans, and asked him what he would 
 give for beaver. He said he could not give more than four 
 shillings a pound : but, says he, I cannot talk on business 
 21* 
 
246 ESSAYS. 
 
 now; this is the day when we meet together to learn good 
 things, and I am going to the meeting. So I thought to 
 myself, since I cannot do any business to-day, I may as 
 well go to the meeting too, and I went with him. There 
 stood up a man in black, and began to talk, to the people 
 very angrily. I did not understand what he said : but, per- 
 ceiving that he looked much at me and at Hanson, I ima- 
 gined 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 mentioned something of beaver; 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 pre- 
 tended of meeting to learn good tilings, 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 opin- 
 ion. If they met so often to learn good things, they would 
 certainly have learned some oefore this time. But they are 
 still ignorant. You know our practice. If a white man, 
 in travelling through our country, enters one of our cabins, 
 we all treat him as I do you ; we dry him if he is wet, we 
 warm him if he is cold, and give him meat and drink, that 
 he may allay his thirst and hunger; and we spread soft furs 
 for him to rest and sleep on : we demand nothing in 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 
 
 * It is remarkable that, in alj ages and countries, hospitality has 
 been allowed a3 the virtue of those, whom the civilized were pleas- 
 ed to call barbarians: the Greeks celebrated the Scythians for it; 
 the Saracens possessed it eminently; and it is to this day the reign- 
 ing virtue of the wild Arabs. St. Paul, too, in the relation of hi3 
 voyage and shipwreck, on the island of Melita, says, "The barba- 
 rous people showed us no little kindness; for they kindled a fire, 
 and received us every one, because of the present rain, and be- 
 cause of the cold." This note is taken from a small collection of 
 Wnnktio's «aners, --printed for DUly. 
 
ESSAYS. 247 
 
 see that they have not learned those little good things that 
 we need no meetings to be instructed in, because our moth- 
 ers taught them 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 con- 
 trive the cheating of Indians in the price of beaver." 
 
 TO MR. DUBQURG. 
 
 CONCERNING THE DISSENTIONS BETWEEN ENGLAND AND 
 AMERICA. 
 
 London, October 2, 1770. 
 
 I see, with pleasure, that we think pretty much alike on 
 the subjects of English America. We of the colonies have 
 never insisted that we ought to be exempt from contributing 
 to the common expenses necessary to support the prosperity 
 of the empire. We only assert that, having parliaments of 
 our own, and not having representatives in that of Great 
 Britain, our parliaments are the only judges of what we can 
 and what we ought to contribute in this case ; and that the 
 English parliament has no right to take our money without 
 our consent. In fact, the British empire is not a single state ; 
 it comprehends many ; and though the parliament of Great 
 Britain has arrogated to itself the power of taxing the colo- 
 nies, it has no more right to do so than it has to tax Han- 
 over. We have the same king, but not the same legisla- 
 tures. 
 
 The dispute between the two countries has already lost 
 England many millions sterling, which it has lost in its com- 
 merce, and America has in this respect been a proportion- 
 able gainer. This commerce consisted principally of super- 
 fluities; objects of luxury and fashion, which we can well 
 do without; and the resolution we have formed, of import- 
 ing no more till our grievances are redressed, has enabled 
 many of our infant manufactures to take root ; and it will 
 not be easy to make our people abandon them in future, 
 even should a connexion more cordial than ever succeed the 
 present troubles. — I have, indeed, no doubt that the parlia- 
 
248 ESSAYS. 
 
 ment of England will finally abandon its present preten- 
 sions, and leave us to the peaceable enjoyment of our rights 
 and privileges. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 A COMPARISON 
 
 OF THE CONDUCT OF THE ANCIENT JEW?, AND OP 
 
 THE ANTI-FEDERALISTS IN THE UNITED STATES 
 
 OF AMERICA. 
 
 A zealous advocate for the proposed Federal Constitu- 
 tion in a certain public assembly said, that "the repugnance 
 of great part of mankind to good government was such, that 
 he believed that if an angel from heaven was to bring down 
 a constitution formed there for our use, it would nevertheless 
 meet with violent opposition." — He was reproved for the 
 supposed extravagance of the sentiment; and he did not 
 justify it. Probably it might not have immediately occur- 
 red to him, that the experiment had been tried, and that the 
 event was recorded in the most faithful of all histories, the 
 Holy Bible ; otherwise he might, as it seems to me, have 
 supported his opinion by that unexceptionable authority. 
 
 The Supreme Being had been pleased to nourish up a 
 single family, by continued acts of his attentive providence, 
 until it became a great people : and having rescued them 
 from bondage by many miracles performed by his servant 
 Moses, he personally delivered to that chosen servant, in 
 presence of the whole nation, a constitution and code of 
 laws for theirobservance; accompanied and sanctioned with 
 promises of great rewards, and threats of severe punish- 
 ments, as the consequence of their obedience or disobedi- 
 ence. 
 
 This constitution, though the Deity himself was to be at 
 its head (and it is therefore called by political writers a 
 theocracy) could not be carried into execution but by means 
 of his ministers : Aaron and his sons were therefore commis- 
 sioned to be, with Moses, the first established ministry of 
 the new government. 
 
 One would have thought, that the appointment of men, 
 who had distinguished themselves in procuring the liberty 
 
ESSAYS. 249 
 
 of their nation, and had hazarded their lives in openly op- 
 posing the will of a powerful monarch who would have re- 
 tained that nation in slavery, might have been an appoint- 
 ment acceptable to a grateful people ; and that a constitu- 
 tion framed 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 dis- 
 contented, restless spirits, who were continually exciting 
 them to reject the proposed new government, and this from 
 various motives. 
 
 \Many still retained an affection for Egypt, the land of 
 their nativity ; and these, whenever they felt any inconven- 
 ience or hardship, though the natural and unavoidable ef- 
 fect of their change of situation, exclaimed against their 
 leaders as the authors of their trouble ; and were not only 
 for returning into Egypt, but for stoning their deliverers.* 
 Those inclined to idolatry were displeased that their golden 
 calf was destroyed. Many of the chiefs thought the new 
 constitution might be injurious to their particular interests, 
 that the profitable places would be engrossed by the fami- 
 lies and friends of Moses and Jlaron, and others equally 
 well born excluded. t — In Josephus, and the Talmud, we 
 earn some particulars, not so fully narrated in the Scripture. 
 We are there told, "that Korah was ambitious of the priest- 
 hood ; and offended that it was conferred on Aaron ; and 
 this, as he said, by the authority of Moses only, without the 
 consent of the people. He accused Moses of having, by 
 various artifices, fraudulently obtained the government, and 
 deprived the people-of their liberties; and of conspiring with 
 Aaron to ^perpetuate the tyranny in their family. Thus, 
 though Korah's real motive was the 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 respec- 
 tive tribes ; we have freed ourselves from the slavery impo- 
 sed upon us by the Egyptians, and shall we suffer ourselves 
 
 * Numbers, chap. xiv. 
 
 t Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 3. "And they gathered themselves 
 together against Moses and against Aaron, and said unto them, Ye 
 take too much upon you, seeing all the congregation are holy, ev- 
 ery one of them, — wherefore then lift ye up yourselves above the 
 congregation?" 
 
 t, 2 
 
950 ESSAYS. 
 
 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 ns into danger of famine.' Then 
 they called in question the reality of Ids conferences with 
 God; and objected to the privacy of the meeting, and the 
 preventing any of the people from being present at the col- 
 loquies, oi even approaching tire place, as grounds of great 
 suspicion. They accused N[osesalso of peculation : as em- 
 bezzling part of the golden spoons and the silver chargers, 
 that the princes had offered at the dedication of the altar,* 
 and the offerings of gold by the common peoplc,t as well as 
 most of the poll-tax;}, and Aaron they accused of pocket- 
 ing much of the gold, of which he pretended to have made 
 a molten calf. Besides peculation, they charged Moses 
 with ambition; to gratify which passion, he had, they said, 
 deceived 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. J That, to support the new dignity with 
 splendor in his family, the partial poll-tax already leviec 
 and given to Aaron, || was to be followed by a general one 
 which would probably be augmented from time to time, 
 be were suffered to go on promulgating new laws, on pre-r 
 lence of new occasional revelations of the Divine will, till 
 their whole fortunes were devoured by that aristocracy." 
 
 Moses denied the charge of peculation ; and his accusers 
 were destitute of proofs to support it; though facts, if real, 
 are in their nature capable of proof. "I have not," said 
 he, (with holy confidence in the presence of God,) U I have 
 not taken from this people the value of an ass, nor done 
 them any other injury." But his enemies had made the 
 charge, and with some success among the populace ; for no 
 kind of accusation is so readily made, or easily believed, by 
 knaves, as the accusation of knavery. 
 
 * Numbers, chap. vii. f Exodus, cliap. xxxv. ver. 22. 
 
 t Numbers, chap. iii. and Exodus, cliap. xxx. 
 
 § Numbers, chap. xvi. ver. 13. "It is a small thing that thorj 
 hast brought us up out of a land flowing with milk and honey, to 
 kill us in this wilderness, except that thou make thyself altogether 
 a prince over us!" 
 
 j| Ibid, cliap. iii. If Exodus, chap. xxx. 
 
ESSAYS. 351 
 
 In fine, no less than two hundred and fifty of the prin- 
 cipal men, "famous in the congregation, men of renown,"** 
 heading and exciting the mob, worked them up to such a 
 pitch of phrenzy, that they called out, Stone 'em, stone 
 'em, and thereby secure our liberties; and let us choose oth- 
 er captains, that they may lead us back into Egypt, in case 
 we do not succeed in reducing the Canaanites* 
 
 On the whole, it appears that the Israelites were a peo-: 
 pie jealous of their new-acquired liberty, which jealousy 
 was in itself no fault: but that, when they suffered it to be 
 worked upon by artful men, pretending public good, with 
 nothing really in view but private interest, they were led to 
 oppose the establishment of the new constitution, whereby 
 they brought upon themselves much inconvenience and 
 misfortune. It farther appears from the same inestimable' 
 history, that when$ after many ages, the constitution had 
 become old and much abused, and an amendment of it was 
 proposed, the populace, as they had accused Moses of the 
 ambition of making himself a prince* and cried out, Stone 
 him, stone him ; so, excited by their high priests and scribes^ 
 they exclaimed against the' Messiah, that he aimed at be- 
 coming King of the Jews* and cried, Crucify him, crucify 
 him. From all which we may gather, that popular opposi- 
 tion to a public measure is no proof of its impropriety, even 
 though the opposition be excited and headed by men of dis- 
 tinction. 
 
 To conclude, I beg I may not be understood to infer, 
 that our general convention was divinely inspired when it 
 formed the new federal constitution, merely because that 
 constitution has been unreasonably and vehemently oppo- 
 sed ; 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 pos- 
 terity of a great nation, should be suffered to pass without 
 being in some degree influenced, guided, and governed by 
 that omnipotent, omnipresent, and beneficent Ruler, in 
 whom all inferior spirits live, and move, and have thei* 
 being. 
 
 * Numbers, chap. xvi. 
 
252 ESSAYS. 
 
 NAUTICAL AFFAIRS. 
 
 Though Britain bestows more attention to trade than 
 any other nation, and though it be the general opinion, that 
 the safety of their state depends upon her navy alone; yet 
 it seems not a little extraordinary, that most of the great 
 improvements in ship-building have originated abroad. The 
 best sailing vessels in the royal navy have in general been 
 French prizes. This, though it may admit of exceptions, 
 cannot be upon the whole disputed. 
 
 Nor is Britain entirely inattentive to naval architecture; 
 though it is no where scientifically taught, and those who 
 devise improvements have seldom an opportunity of bring- 
 ing them into practice. What a pity it is, that no contri- 
 vance should be adopted, for concentrating the knowledge 
 that different individuals attain in this art, into one common 
 focus, if the expression may be admitted. Our endeavors 
 shall not be wanting to collect together, in the best way we 
 can, the scattered hints that shall occur under this head, 
 not doubting but the public will receive with favor this 
 humble attempt to waken the attention to a subject of sue 
 great national importance. 
 
 Dr. Franklin, among the other inquiries that had engaged 
 his attention, during a long life spent in the uninterrupted 
 pursuit of useful improvements, did not let this escape his 
 notice ; and many useful hints, tending to perfect the art of 
 navigation, and to meliorate the condition of seafaring peo- 
 ple, occur in his work. In France, the art of constructing 
 ships has long been a favorite study, and many improve- 
 ments in that branch have originated with them. Among 
 the last of the Frenchmen, who have made any consider- 
 able improvement in this respect, is M. Le Roy, who has 
 constructed a vessel well adapted to sail in rivers, where 
 the depth of water is inconsiderable, and that yet was ca- 
 pable of being navigated at sea with great ease. This he 
 effected in a great measure by the particular mode of rig- 
 ging, which gave the mariners much greater power over the 
 vessel than they could have when of the usual construction. 
 
 I do not hear that this improvement has in any case been 
 adopted in Britain. But the advantages that would result 
 from having a vessel of small draught of water to sail with 
 
ESSAYS. 253\ 
 
 the same steadiness, and to lie equally near the wind, as 
 one may do that is sharper built, are so obvious, that many 
 persons have been desirous of falling upon some way to ef- 
 fect it. About London, this has been attempted by means 
 of lee boards (a contrivance now so generally known as not 
 to require to be here particularly described) and not without 
 effect. But these are subject to certain inconveniences, 
 that render the use of them in many cases ineligible. 
 
 Others have attempted to effect the purpose by building- 
 vessels with more than one keel ; and this contrivance,- when 
 adopted upon proper principles, promises to be attended 
 with the happiest effects. But hitherto that seems to have 
 been scarcely adverted to. Time will be necessary to era- 
 dicate common notions of very old standing, before this 
 can be effectually done. 
 
 Mr. W. Brodie, shipmaster in Leithf has lately adopted 
 a contrivance for this purpose, that seems to be at the same 
 time very simple and extremely efficacious. Necessity, in this 
 case, as in many others, was the mother of invention. He 
 had a small, flat, ill-built boat, which was so ill constructed 
 as scarcely to admit of carrying a bit of sail on any occa- 
 sion, and which was at the same time so heavy to be rowed, 
 that he found great difficulty in using it for his ordinary oc- 
 casions. In reflecting on the means that might be adopted 
 for giving this useless cable such a hold of the water as to 
 admit of his employing a sail wheiphe found it necessary, 
 it readily occurred that a greater depth of keel would have 
 this tendency. But a greater depth of keel ^ though it would 
 have been useful for this purpose, he easily foresaw, would 
 make his boat be extremely inconvenient on many other 
 occasions. To effect both purposes, he thought of adopting 
 a moveable keel, which would admit of being let down or 
 taken up at pleasure. This idea he immediately carried in- 
 to effect, by fixing a bar of iron of the depth he wanted, 
 along each side of the keel, moving upon hinges that admit- 
 ted of being moved in one direction, but which could not be 
 bent back in the opposite direction. Thus, by means of a 
 small chain fixed to each end, these moveable keels could 
 . be easily lifted up at pleasure ; so that when he was enter- 
 ing into a harbor, or shoal water, he had only to lift up his 
 keels, and the boat was as capable of being managed there, 
 as if he had wanted them entirely ; and when he went out 
 22 
 
254 ESSAYS. 
 
 to sea, where there was depth enough, by letting them dowrr, 
 the lee keel took a firm hold of the water (while the other 
 floated loose,) and gave such a steadiness to all its move- 
 ments, as can scarcely be conceived by those who have not 
 experienced it. 
 
 This gentleman one day carried me out with him in his 
 boat to try it. We made two experiments. At first, with 
 a moderate breeze, when the moveable keels were kept up, 
 the boat, when laid as near die wind as it could go, made 
 an angle with the wake of about thirty degrees; but when 
 the keels were let down, the same angle did not exceed five 
 or six degrees, being nearly parallel with the course. 
 
 At another time, the wind was right a-head, a brisk 
 breeze. When we began to beat up against it, a trading 
 sloop was very near us, steering the same course with us. 
 This sloop went through the water a good deal faster than 
 we could : but in the course of two hours beating to wind- 
 ward, we found that the sloop was left behind two feet in 
 three ; though it is certain, that if our false keels had not 
 been let down, we could scarcely, in that situation, have 
 advanced one foot for her three. 
 
 It is unnecessary to point out to seafaring men the bene- 
 fits that may be derived from this contrivance in certain cir- 
 cumstances, as these will be very obvious to them. 
 
 NOintl-WEST PASSAGE. 
 
 Notwithstanding the many fruitless attempts that have 
 oeen made to discover a north-west passage into the South 
 Seas, it would seem that this important geographical ques- 
 tion is not yet fully decided ; for at a meeting of the Acade- 
 my of Sciences, at Paris, held on the 13th of November 
 last, M. Bauche, first geographer to the king, read a curious 
 memoir concerning the north-west passage. M. de Meu- 
 doza, an intelligent captain of a vessel in the service of 
 Spain, charged with the care of former establishments fa- 
 vorable to the marine, has made a careful examination of 
 the archives of several departments: there he has found the 
 relation of a voyage made in the year 1598 by Lorenzo 
 Herrero de Maldouada. There it appears, that at the en- 
 try into Davis's Straits, north lat. 60 degrees and 28 of 
 longitude, counting from the first meridian, he turned to the 
 west, leaving Hudson's Bay on the South, and Baffin's Bay 
 
ESSAYS. 255 
 
 «n the north. Arrived at lat. G5 and 297, he went towards 
 the north by the Straits of Labrador, till he reached 76 
 and 278; and, finding himself in the Icy Sea, he turned 
 south-west to lat. 60 and 235, where he found a strait, 
 which separates Asia from America, by which he entered 
 into the South Sea, which he called the Straits of Anian. 
 This passage ought to be, according to M. Bauche, between 
 William's Sound, and Mount St. Elias. The Russians 
 and Captain Cook have not observed it, because it is very 
 narrow. But it is to be wished, that this important discov- 
 ery should be verified, which has been overlooked for two 
 centuries, in spite of the attempts which have been made on 
 these coasts. M. Bauche calls this passage the Straits of 
 Ferrer. 
 
 POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED. 
 
 L All food, or subsistence for mankind, arises from the 
 ■earth or waters. 
 
 2. Necessaries of life that are not foods, and all other 
 conveniences, have their val-ue estimated by the proportion 
 -of food consumed while we are employed in procuring 
 them. 
 
 3. A small people, with a large "territoiy, may subsist on 
 the productions of nature, with no other labor than that of 
 gathering the vegetables and catching the animals. 
 
 4. A large people with a small territory, find these insuf- 
 ficient; and, to subsist, must labor the earthy to make it 
 produce greater quantities of vegetable food, suitable to the 
 nourishment of men, and of the animals they intend to eat, 
 
 5. From this labor arises a great increase of vegetable 
 and animal food, and of materials for clothing; as flax, 
 wool, silk, &c. The superfluity of these is wealth. With 
 this wealth we pay for the labor employed in building our 
 houses, cities, Szc. which are therefore only subsistence thus 
 metamorphosed. 
 
 6. Manufactures are only another shape into which so 
 much provisions and subsistence are turned, as were in value 
 equal to the manufactures produced. This appears from 
 
256 ESSAYS. 
 
 hence, that the manufacturer does not, in fact, obtain from 
 the employer, for bis labor, 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 manu- 
 factures, maybe irjore easily carried into distant markets, 
 than before such conversion, 
 
 8. Fair commerce is where equal values are exchanged 
 for equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it 
 costs A in England, as much labor and charge to raise a 
 bushel of wheat, as it costs B in France to produce four gal- 
 lons of wine, then are- four gallons of wine the fair ex- 
 change for a bushel of wheat, A and V» meeting at a half 
 distance with their commodities to make the exchange. 
 The advantage of this fair commerce is, that each party in- 
 creases the number of his enjoyments, having, instead of 
 wheat alone, or wine alone, the use of both wheat and 
 wine. 
 
 9. Where the labor and expense of producing both com-. 
 modifies 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 a thousand bushels of wheat 
 abroad to sell, may not probably obtain so great a profit 
 thereon, as if he had first turned the wheat into manufac- 
 tures, 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 labor employed in the manufacture than there 
 really is, are more easily imposed on in their value, and in- 
 duced 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 ve^ 
 ry cause of its being worth twenty shillings is that, besides 
 the flax, it has cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in subsis- 
 
ESSAYS. 257 
 
 tence to the manufacturer. But the advantage of manu- 
 factures is, that, under their shape, provisions may be more 
 cash}' 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 Jace. The importer 
 may demand forty, and perhaps get thirty shillings for that 
 which cost him but twenty. 
 
 1'2. Finally,- there seems to be but three ways for a na- 
 tion to acquire wealth. The first is by war, as the Romans 
 did, in plundering their conquered neighbors; this is robbe- 
 ry. — 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 favor, as a reward for his innocent life and 
 his virtuous industry. 
 
 FRANKLIN. 
 
 PRELIMINARY ADDRESS 
 TO THE PENNSYLVANIA ALMANAC, 
 
 ENTITLED 
 
 "POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC, FOR THE YEAR 1758." 
 WRITTEN BY DR. FRANKLIN. 
 
 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 though I have been, if I may say it without vanity, an 
 eminent author (of Almanacs) 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 ap- 
 plauses; 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 
 
 22* 
 
258 ESSAYS. 
 
 *'As poor Richard says," at the end on't. This gave me 
 some satisfaction, as it showed not only that my instruc- 
 tions were regarded, but discovered likewise some respect 
 for my authority; and I own, that, to encourage the prac- 
 tice of remembering and repeating those wise sentences, I 
 have sometimes quoted myself with great gravity. 
 
 Judge then how much I have been gratified by an inci- 
 dent which I am going to relate to you. I stopped my 
 horse lately where a great number of people were collected 
 at an auction of merchants' goods. The hour of sale not 
 being come, they were conversing on the badness of the 
 times; and one of the company called to a plain, clean, old 
 man, with white locks, "Pray, father Abraham, what think 
 ye 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 
 replied, — "If you'd have my advice, I'll give it to you in 
 6hort; 'for a word to the wise is enough; and many words 
 won't fill a bushel,' as poor Richard says." They joined in 
 desiring him to speak his mind ; and gathering round him, 
 he proceeded as follows: 
 
 "Friends (says he) and neighbors, the taxes are indeed 
 very heavy ; and if those laid on by the government were 
 the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily discharge 
 them ; but we have many others, and much more grievous 
 to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idle- 
 ness, 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. How- 
 ever, 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 Almanac. 
 
 "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 noth- 
 ing, with that which is spent in idle employments, or amuse- 
 ments that amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on dis- 
 eases, absolutely shortens life. 'Sloth, like rust, consumes 
 faster than labor wears, while the key often used is always 
 bright,' as poor Richard says. 'But dost thou love life 7 
 then do not squander time, for that's the stuff life is made 
 
ESSAYS. 259 
 
 of,' as poor Richard says. How much more than is neces- 
 sary do we spend in sleep! forgetting, that 'the sleeping fox 
 catches no poultry, and that there will be sleeping enough 
 in the grave, 1 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 diffi- 
 cult, 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, weal- 
 thy, and wise.' 
 
 "So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times? 
 We make these times better if we bestir ourselves. 'In- 
 dustry needs 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 like- 
 wise observes) 'He that hath a trade, hath an estate, and he 
 that hath a calling hath an office of profit and honor;' but 
 then the trade must be worked at, and the calling well fol- 
 lowed, 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 workingman's house 
 hunger looks in, but dares not enter. ' Nor will the bailiff 
 or the constable enter; for, 'Industry pays debts, but despair 
 increaseth them,' says poor Richard. What though you 
 have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a 
 legacy? 'Diligence is the mother of good luck,' as poor 
 Richard says ; and 'God gives all things to industry ; then 
 plough deep while sluggards sleep, and you will have corn 
 to sell and to keep,' says poor Dick. Work while it is call- 
 ed to-day ; for you know not how much you may be hin- 
 dered 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 
 
2G0 ESSAYS. 
 
 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, 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, 1 as poor Richard says. It is true, there is 
 much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed; but 
 stick to it steadily, and you, will see great effects; for, 'con- 
 tinual dropping wears away stones, and by diligence and 
 patience the mouse ate into the cable; and light strokes fell 
 great oaks,' as poor Richard says in his Almanac, 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 labor? No; for, as 
 poor Richard says, 'Troubles spring from idleness, and 
 grievous toils from needless ease : many without labor would 
 live by their own 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 dili- 
 gent 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 and 
 settled and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our 
 own eyes, and not trust too much to others: for, as poor 
 Richard says, 
 
 4 I never saw an oft-removed tree, 
 
 Nor yet an oft-removed family, 
 
 That throve so well as one that settled be.' 
 
 "And again, 'Three removes are as bad as a fire;' and 
 again, 'Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee;' and 
 again, 'If you would have your business done, go; if not, 
 send.' And again, 
 
ESSAYS. 261 
 
 •He that by the plough would thrive, 
 Himself must either hold or drive.' 
 
 And again, 'The eye of the master will do more work than 
 both his hands;' and again, 'Want of care does us more 
 damage than want of knowledge;' and again, 'Not to over- 
 see workmen is to leave them your purse open.' Trusting 
 too much to others' care is the ruin of many ; for, as the Al- 
 manac says, 'In the affairs of the world, men are saved not 
 by faith, but by the want of it ;' but a man's own care is 
 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, further, '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 Rich- 
 ard says; and, 
 
 . . 'Many estates are spent in the getting, 
 
 .H Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, 
 
 V And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting.' 
 
 " 'If you would be wealthy, (says he, in another Alma- 
 nac) think of saving, as well as of getting : the Indies have 
 not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are greater than 
 her incomes.' 
 
 "Away then with your expensive follies, and you will not 
 have much cause to complain of hard times, heavy taxes, 
 and chargeable families; for, as poor Dick says, 
 
 'Women and wine, game and deceit, 
 Make the wealth small, and the want great.' 
 
 "And, farther, 'What maintains one vice would bring up 
 
262 ESSAYS. 
 
 two children. 1 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 snakes a meikle ;' and, farther, 
 'Beware of little expenses; a small leak will sink a' great 
 ship;' and again, 'Who dainties love shall beggars prove;' 
 and, moreover, 'Funis make fi;asts, and wise men eat them.' 
 "Here you are all git together at this sale of fineries and 
 nicknacks. You call them goods; but if you do not take 
 care, they will prove evils to sohae 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, or not real; or the bargain, by straitening thee in thy 
 business, may do thee more harm than good. For in an- 
 other place he says, 'Many have been ruined by buying 
 good pennyworths.' Again, as poor Richard says, 'It is 
 foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance;' aud 
 yet this folly is practised every day at auctions, for want of 
 minding the Almanac. 'Wi>e men (as poor Dick says) 
 learn by others 1 harms, fools scarcely by their own ; hut 
 Felix quern faciunt a'iena perimda cawtumJ Many a 
 one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a 
 hungry belly, and half starved their families: 'Silk and sat- 
 ins, 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 conveniences; and yet only be- 
 cause they look pretty, how many want, to have them } The 
 artificial wants of mankind thus become more numerous 
 than the natural; and as poor Dick says, 'For one poor 
 person there are a hundred indigent.' By these and other 
 extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and for- 
 ced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but 
 who, through industry and frugalit}', have maintained their 
 standing; in which case, it appears plainly, '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, 'It is 
 
ESSAYS. 263 
 
 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 ; bat always be taking out of the meal- 
 tub, and never putting in, soon comes to the bottom ;' then, 
 as poor Dick says, 'When the well is dry they know the 
 worth of water.' But this they might have known 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 again. Poor 
 Dick farther advises, and says, 
 
 •Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse : 
 Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse.' 
 
 And again, 'Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great 
 deal more saucy.' When you have bought one fine thing, 
 you must buy ten more, that your appearance may be all 
 of a piece ; but poor Dick says, 'It is easier to suppress the 
 first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it.' And it is as 
 truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as the frog to swell, 
 in order to equal the ox. 
 
 'Vessels large may venture more, 
 But little 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 dress'd; 
 The gaudy fop's his picture just,' 
 
 as poor Richard says. 
 
 '"But what madness must it be to run in debt for these su- 
 perfluities! We are offered by the terms of this sale six 
 months' credit; and that perhaps has induced some of us to 
 attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and 
 
264 ESSAYS. 
 
 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, sneak- 
 ing excuses, and by degrees come to lose your ve- 
 racity, 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 free- 
 born Englishman ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to 
 speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a 
 man of all spirit and virtue : 'It is hard for an empty bag to 
 stand upright,' as poor Richard truly says. What would 
 you think of that prince, or that government, who would is- 
 sue an edict, forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or 
 gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? 
 Would you not say, that you were free, have a right to dress 
 as you please, and that such an edict would be a hreach 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 author- 
 ity, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liherty, by con- 
 fining you in goal for life, or by selling you for a servant, if 
 you should not be able to pay him. ^V v hen you have got 
 your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment; 
 but 'Creditors' poor Richard tells us, 'have better memories 
 than debtors :' and in another place he says, 'Creditors are 
 a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times.' 
 The day comes round before you are aware, and the de- 
 mand is made before you are prepared to satisfy it. Or if 
 you bear your debt in mind, the term which at first seemed 
 so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time 
 will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as at his 
 shoulders. 'Those have a short Lent,' saith poor Richard, 
 'who owe money to be paid at Easter.' Then since, as he 
 says, 'The borrower is a slave to the lender, and the debtor 
 to the creditor;' disdain the chain, preserve your freedom, 
 and maintain your independency : be industrious and free; 
 be frugal and free. At present, perhaps, you may think 
 yourselves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bcai 
 a little extravagance without injury ; but, 
 
ESSAYS. 265 
 
 * For age and want save while you may, 
 No morning sun Jasts a whole day,' 
 
 as poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary and un- 
 certain ; but ever, while you live, expense is constant and 
 certain : and ' it is 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.' 
 
 4 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 philos- 
 opher'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 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 leam in no other, and scarce in that ; for it is 
 true, we may give advice, but we cannot give conduct,' as 
 poor Richard says. However, remember this, ' They that 
 will not be counselled, cannot be helped,' as poor Richard 
 says ; and, further, that ' If you will not hear Reason, she 
 will surely rap your knuckles.' " 
 
 Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The peo- 
 ple heard it, and approved the doctrine, and immediately 
 practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common 
 sermon ; for the auction opened, and they began to buy ex- 
 travagantly, notwithstanding all his cautions and their own 
 fear of taxes. I found the good man had thoroughly 
 studied my almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on 
 those topics during the course of twenty-five years. The 
 frequent mention he made of me must have tired every 
 one else ; but 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 glean- 
 ings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. 
 However T resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and 
 23 M 
 
266 ESSAYS. 
 
 though I had 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, 
 
 RICHARD SAUNDERS. 
 
 THE INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. 
 
 BEING A TRUE DESCRIPTION OF THE INTEREST AND 
 POLICY OF THAT VAST CONTINENT. 
 
 There is a tradition that in the planting of New England 
 the first settlers met with many difficulties and hardships : 
 as is generally the case when a civilized people attempt es- 
 tablishing themselves in a wilderness country. Being pi- 
 ously disposed, they sought relief from Heaven, by laying 
 their wants and distresses before the Lord, in frequent set 
 days of fasting and prayer. Constant meditation and dis- 
 course on these subjects kept their minds gloomy and dis- 
 contented : and, like the children of Israel, there were 
 many disposed to return to that Egypt which persecution 
 had induced them to abandon. At length, when it was 
 proposed in the Assembly to proclaim another fast, a far- 
 mer of plain sense rose and remarked, that the inconve- 
 niences they suffered, and concerning which they had so of- 
 ten wearied Heaven with their complaints, were not so 
 great as they might have expected, and were diminishing 
 every day as the colony strengthened ; that the earth began 
 to reward their labor, and to furnish liberally for their sub- 
 sistence; that the seas and rivers were found full of fish; 
 the air sweet, the climate healthy; and, above all, tha 
 they were in the full enjoyment of .liberty, civil and religious: 
 he therefore thought, that reflecting and conversing on these 
 subjects would be more comfortable, as tending more to 
 make them contented with their situation; and that it 
 would be more becoming the gratitude they owed the Divine 
 Being, if, instead of a fast, they should proclaim a thanksgiv- 
 ing. His advice was taken ; and, from that day to this, they 
 have, in every year, observed circumstances of public fe- 
 
ESSAYS. 267 
 
 licity sufficient to furnish employment for a thanksgiving 
 day ; which is, therefore, constantly ordered and religiously 
 observed. 
 
 I see in the public newspapers of different States, fre- 
 quent complaints of hard Limes, deadness of trade, scarcity 
 of money, Sec. &c. It is not mj intention to assert or 
 maintain that tiiese complaints are entirely without foun- 
 dation. There can be no country or nation existing, in 
 which there will not be some people so circumstanced as to 
 find it hard to gain a livelihood ; people who are not in the 
 way of any profitable trade, with whom money is scarce, 
 because they have nothing to give in exchange for it; and 
 it is always in the power of a small number to make a great 
 clamor. Br.t let us take a cool view of the general state of 
 our affairs, and perhaps the prospect will appear less gloomy 
 than has been imagined. 
 
 The great business of the continent is agriculture. For 
 one artisan, or merchant, I suppose we have at least one 
 -hundred farmers, by far the greatest part cultivators of their 
 own fertile lands, from whence many of them draw not 
 only food necessary for their, subsistence, but the materi- 
 als of their clothing, so as to need very few foreign sup- 
 plies ; while they have a surplus of productions to dispose 
 of, whereby wealth is gradually accumulated. Such has 
 been the goodness of Divine Providence to these regions, 
 and so favorable the climate, that, since the three or four 
 years of hardship in the first settlement of our fathers here, 
 a famine or scarcity has never been heard of amongst us ; on 
 the contrary, though some years may have been more and 
 others less plentiful, there has always been provision enough 
 for ourselves and a quantity to spare for exportation. And al- 
 though the crops of last year were generally good, never was 
 the farmer better paid for the part he can spare commerce, as 
 the published price-currents abundantly testify. The lands 
 he possesses are also continually rising in value with the h> 
 crease of population ; and, on the whole, he is enabled to 
 give such good wages to those who work for him, that all 
 who are acquainted with the old world must agree, that in 
 no part of it are the laboring poor so generally well fed, well 
 clothed, well lodged, and well paid, as in the United States 
 of America. 
 If we enter the cities, we find that since the Revolution, 
 
2G8 ESSAYS. 
 
 the owners of houses and lots of ground have had their in- 
 terest vastly augmented in value; rents have risen to an 
 astonishing height, and thence encouragement to increase 
 building, which gives employment to an abundance of work- 
 men, as does also the increased luxury and splendor of living 
 of the inhabitants thus made richer. Those workmen all 
 demand and obtain much higher wages than any other part 
 of the world would afford them, and are paid in ready money. 
 This rank of people therefore do not, or ought not, to com- 
 plain of hard times; and they make a very considerable 
 part of the city inhabitants. 
 
 At the distance I live from our American fisheries, I can- 
 not speak of them with any degree of certainty; but I have 
 not heard that the labor of the valuable race of men em- 
 ployed in them is worse paid, or that they meet with less 
 success, than before the Revolution. The whalemen, in- 
 deed, have been deprived of one market for their oil, but 
 another, I hear, is opening for them, which it is hoped may 
 be equally advantageous; and the demand is constantly in- 
 creasing for their spermaceti candles, which therefore bear 
 a much higher price than formerly. 
 
 There remain the merchants and shopkeepers. Of these, 
 though they make but a small part of the whole nation, the 
 number is considerable, too great indeed for the business 
 they are employed in ; for the consumption of goods in ev- 
 ery country has its limits; the faculties of the people, that 
 is, their ability to buy and pay are equal to a certain quan- 
 tity of merchandise. If merchants calculate amiss on this 
 proportion, and import too much, they will of course find 
 the sale dull for the overplus, and some of them will say 
 that trade languishes. They should, and doubtless will, 
 grow wiser by experience, and import less. 
 
 If too many artificers in town, and fanners from the coun- 
 try, flattering themselves with the idea of leading easier 
 lives, turn shopkeepers, the whole natural quantity of that 
 business divided among them all, may afford too small a 
 share for each, and occasion complaints that trading is dead : 
 these may also suppose that it is owing to scarcity of money ; 
 while, in fact, it is not so much from the fewness of buyers, 
 as from the excessive number of sellers, that the mischief 
 aries ; and if every shopkeeping fanner and mechanic would 
 return to the use of his plough and working tools, there 
 
 23* 
 
ESSAYS. 269 
 
 would remain of widows and other women, shopkeepers suf- 
 ficient for the business, which might then afford them a 
 comfortable maintenance. 
 
 Whoever has travelled through the various parts of Eu- 
 rope, and observed how small is the proportion of people in 
 affluence or easy circumstances there, compared with those 
 in poverty and misery : The few rich and haughty land- 
 lords, the multitude of poor, abject, rack-rented, tythe-pay- 
 ing tenants, and half-paid, and half-starved, ragged laborers ; 
 and views here the happy mediocrity that so generally pre- 
 vails throughout these States, where the cultivator works for 
 himself and supports his family in decent plenty ; will, me- 
 thinks, see abundant reason to bless Divine Providence 
 for the evident and great difference in our favor, and be 
 convinced that no nation known to us- enjoys a greater share 
 Of human felicity. 
 
 It is true that in some of the States there are parties and 
 discords ; but let us look back, and ask if we were ever with- 
 out them? Such will exist wherever there is liberty ; and 
 perhaps they help to preserve it. By the collision of differ- 
 ent sentiments, sparks of truth are struck out, and political 
 light is obtained. The different factions which at present 
 divide us, aim all at the public good ; the differences are only 
 about the various modes of promoting it. Things, actions, 
 measures, and objects of all kinds, present themselves to 
 the minds of men in such a variety of lights, that it is not 
 possible we should all think alike at the same time on eve- 
 ry subject, when hardly the same man retains at all times 
 the same ideas of it. Parties are, therefore, the common 
 lot of humanity ; and ours are by no means more mischie- 
 vous or less beneficial than those of other countries, nations, 
 and ages, enjoying in the same degree the great blessing of 
 political liberty. 
 
 Some indeed among us are not so much grieved for the 
 present state of our affairs, as apprehensive for the future. 
 The growth of luxury alarms them, and they think we are 
 from that alone on the high road to ruin. They observe, 
 that no revenue is sufficient without economy, and that the 
 most plentiful income of a whole people from the natural 
 productions of their country may be dissipated in vain and 
 needless expenses ; and poverty be introduced in the place 
 of affluence. — This may be possible. It however rarely 
 
270 ESSAYS. 
 
 happens; for there seems to be in every nation a greater 
 proportion of industry and frugality, \\ hich tend to enrich, 
 than of idleness and prodigality, which occasion poverty ; 
 so that upon the whole, there is a continual accumulation. 
 Reflect what Spain, Gaul, Germany, and Britain were in 
 the time of the Romans, inhabited by people little richer 
 than our savages, and consider the wealth that they at pre- 
 sent possess, in numerous well-built cities, improved farms, 
 rich moveables, magazines stocked with valuable manufac- 
 tories, to say nothing of plate, jewels, and coined money ; 
 and all this, notwithstanding their bad, wasteful, plundering 
 governments, and their mad, destructive wars; and yet lux- 
 uiy and extravagant living has never suffered much restraint 
 in those countries. Then consider the great proportion of 
 industrious frugal farmers inhabiting the interior parts of 
 these American States, and of whom the. body of our na- 
 tion consists, and judge whether it is possible that the luxury 
 of our sea-ports can be sufficient to ruin such a country. — 
 If the importation of foreign luxuries could ruin a people, 
 we should probably have been ruined long ago ; for the Bri- 
 tish nation claimed a right and practised it, of importing 
 among us not only the superfluities of their own production, 
 but those of every nation under Heaven ; we bought and 
 consumed them, and yet we flourished and grew rich. At 
 present our independent governments may do what we 
 could not then do, discourage by heavy duties, or prevent 
 by heavy prohibitions, such importations, and thereby grow 
 richer; — if, indeed, which may admit of dispute, the desire 
 of adorning ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine fur- 
 niture, with elegant houses, &c. is not, by strongly inciting 
 to labor and industry, the occasion of producing a greater 
 value than is consumed in the gratification of that desire. 
 
 The agriculture and fisheries of the United States are the 
 great sources of our increasing wealth. He that puts a seed 
 into the earth is recompensed, perhaps, by receiving forty 
 out of it, and he who draws a fish out of our water draws 
 up a piece of silver. 
 
 Let us (and there is no doubt but we shall) be attentive 
 to these, and then the power of rivals, with all their restrain 
 ing and prohibiting acts, cannot much hurt us. We are 
 sons of the earth and seas, and like Antaeus in the fable, if 
 in wrestling with a Hercules, we now and then receive a 
 
ESSAYS. 271 
 
 fall, the touch of our parents will communicate to us fresh 
 strength and vigor to renew the contest. 
 
 INFORMATION TO THOSE WHO WOULD RE- 
 MOVE TO AMERICA. 
 
 Many persons in Europe have directly or by letters ex- 
 pressed to the writer of this, who is well acquainted with 
 North America, their desire of transporting and establishing 
 themselves in that country, but who appear to have formed, 
 through ignorance, mistaken ideas and expectations of what 
 is to be obtained there ; he thinks it may be useful, and 
 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 dis- 
 posed to reward all sorts of ingenuity ; that they are at the 
 same time ignorant of all the sciences, and consequent!} 1- 
 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 abun- 
 dance of profitable orfices to be disposed of which the na- 
 tives are not qualified to fill ; and that having few per- 
 sons of family among them, strangers of birth must be 
 greatly respected, and of course easily obtain the best of 
 those oifices, which will make all their fortunes : that the 
 governments, too, to encourage emigrations from Europe, 
 not onty pay the expense of personal transportation, but 
 give lands gratis to strangers, with negroes to work for them, 
 utensils of husbandly, and stocks of cattle. These are all 
 wild imaginations; and those who go to America with ex- 
 pectations 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 
 
272 ESSAYS. 
 
 people cultivate their own lands, or follow some hand* 
 icraft or merchandise; very few rich enough to live idly 
 upon their rents or incomes, or to pay the high prices 
 given in Europe for painting, statues, architecture, and 
 the other works of art that are more curious than useful. 
 Hence the natural geniuses that have arisen in America, 
 with such talents, have uniformly quitted that 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 
 tiie provinces of New York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, 
 Maryland, and Virginia — all furnished with learned pro- 
 fessors; besides a number of smaller academies: these ed- 
 ucate many of their youth in the languages, and those sci- 
 ences that qualify men for the professions of divinity, law, or 
 physic. Strangers, indeed, are by no means excluded from 
 <\. nising those professions; and the quick increase of in- 
 habitants every where gives them a chance of employ which 
 they have in common with the natives. Of civil offices or 
 employments, there are few ; no superfluous ones, as in 
 Europe; and it is a rule established in some of the States, 
 that no office should be so profitable as to make it desirable. 
 The 3fith article of the Constitution of Pennsylvania runs 
 expressly in these words: 4 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 dependence and servility; unbecoming freemen, 
 in the possessors and expectants; faction, contention, corrup- 
 tion, and disorder among the people. Wherefore, when- 
 ever an office, through increase of fees or otherwise, be- 
 comes so profitable as to occasion many to apply for it, ths 
 profits ought to be lessened by the legislature. ' 
 
 These ideas prevailing more or less in the United States, 
 it cannot be worth any man's while, who has a means o*" 
 living at home, to expatriate himself in hopes of obtaining 
 a profitable civil office in America ; and as to military offi- 
 ces, they are at an end with the w r ar, the armies being dis- 
 banded. Much less is it advisable for a person to go thi- 
 
ESSAYS. 273 
 
 ther, who has no other quality to recommend him than his 
 birth. In Europe it has indeed its value ;. but it is a com- 
 modity that cannot be carried to a worse market than to 
 that of America, where people do not enquire concerning a 
 stranger, What is he? but What can he do? If he has 
 any useful art, he is welcome ; and if he exercises it, and 
 behaves well, he will be respected by all that know him : 
 but a mere man of quality, who on that account wants to 
 live upon the public by some office or salary, will be despised 
 and disregarded. The 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 handicraft works, than for the antiquity of his family. 
 They are pleased with the observation of a negro, and fre- 
 quently mention it, that Boccarorra (meaning the white 
 man) make de black man workee, make de horse workee, 
 make de ox workee, make ebety 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. Ac- 
 cording to these opinions of the Americans, one of them 
 would think himself more obliged to a genealogist who 
 could prove for him that his ancestors and relations for ten 
 generations had been ploughmen, smiths, carpenters, turn- 
 ers, weavers, tanners, or even shoemakers, and consequent- 
 ly that th&y were useful members of society : than if he 
 could only prove that they were gentlemen, doing nothing 
 of value, but living idty on the labor of others, mere fruges 
 consumere natl^' and otherwise good for nothing, till by 
 their death their estates, like the carcass of the negro's gen- 
 tleman-hog, come to be cut up. 
 
 With regard to encouragements for strangers from govern- 
 ment, thejr 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. 
 
 * born 
 
 Merely to cat up the corn. 
 
 Watts. 
 
 m2 
 
274 ESSAYS. 
 
 But if he does not bring a fortune with him he must work and 
 be industrious to live. One or two years resilience give him 
 all the rights of a citizen ; but the government does not at 
 present, whatever it may have done in former times, hire 
 people to become sealers, by paying their passage, giving 
 land, negroes, in ■ i i-ils, stock, or any other kind of emolument 
 whatsoever. h\ short, America is the land oflabor, and by 
 no means what the English call Lubbuiand, and the French 
 Pays de Cocaguc, where the streets are said to be paved 
 with half peck loaves, the houses tiled 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 ad- 
 vantages they may reasonably expect? 
 
 Land being cheap in that country, from the vast forests 
 still void of inhabitants, and not likely to be occupied in an 
 age to come, insomuch that the property of a hundred acres 
 of fertile soil, full of wood, may be obtained near the fron- 
 tiers in many places for eight or ten guineas, hearty young la- 
 boring men, who understand the husbandly of corn and cattle, 
 which is nearly tiie same in that country as in Europe, may ea- 
 sily establish themselves there. A little money saved of the 
 good wages they receive there while they work for others, 
 enables them to buy the land and begin their plantation, in 
 which they are assisted by the good will of their neighbors 
 and some credit. Multitudes of poor people from England, 
 Ireland, Scotland, and Germany have by this means in a few 
 years become wealthy farmers, who in their own countries, 
 where all the lands are fully occupied, and the wages of labor 
 low, could never have emerged from the mean condition 
 wherein they were bom. 
 
 From the salubrity of the air, the healthiness of the cli- 
 mate, the plenty of good provisions, and the encouragement 
 to early marriages, by the certainty of subsistence in culti- 
 vating the earth, the increase of inhabitants by natural gen- 
 eration 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 em- 
 
ESSAYS. 275 
 
 ploj', and to be well paid for their work, there being no re- 
 straints preventing strangers from exercising any art they 
 understand, nor any permission necessary. If they arc 
 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 fam- 
 ilies, and become respectable citizens. 
 
 Also, persons of moderate families and capitals, who, 
 having a number of children to provide for, are desirous of 
 bringing them up to industry, and to secure estates to 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 to 
 such abilities. Their small capitals laid out in lands, 
 which daily become more valuable by the increase of peo- 
 ple, afford a solid prospect of ample fortunes thereafter for 
 those children. The writer of this has known seve- 
 ral instances of large tracts of land bought on what was 
 then the frontiers of Pennsylvania, for ten pounds per hun- 
 dred acres, which, after twenty 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 Eng- 
 lish 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 which 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 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, from an 
 opinion of advantage to arise by producing all commodities 
 and manufactures within their own dominions^ so as to di- 
 minish or render useless their importations, have endeavor- 
 ed 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 
 
27G ESSAYS. 
 
 be disposed to imilnte the princes above mentioned, have 
 proposed to go over on condition of having their passa- 
 ges paid, lands given, salaries appointed, exclusive privileges 
 for terms of years, &c. Such persons, on reading the arti- 
 cles 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 encourage- 
 ment is given, it must be b) r the government of some sepa- 
 rate state. This, however has rarely been done in Ameri- 
 ca; and when it has been done, it lias rarely succeeded, so 
 as to establish a manufacture, which the country was not 
 yet so ripe for as to encourage private persons to set it up ; 
 labor being generally too dear, and hands difficult to be 
 kept together, every one desiring to be a master, and the 
 cheapness of land inclining many to leave trades for agri- 
 culture. Some, indeed, have met with success, and are 
 carried on to advantage ; but they are generally such as re- 
 quire only a few hands, or wherein great part of the work is 
 performed by machines. Goods that are bulky, and of so 
 small a value as not well to bear the expense of freight, 
 may often be made cheaper in the country than they can be 
 imported ; and the manufacture of such goods will be profit- 
 able 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 worked up; but it is in the way 
 of domestic manufacture, for the use of the family. The 
 buying up quantities of wool and flax, with the design to 
 employ spinners, weavers, «fcc. and form great establish- 
 ments, 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 folly' 
 to think of forcing nature. Great establishments of manu- 
 facture require great numbers of poor to do the work for 
 small wages; those poorare 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 eret land 
 
ESSAYS. 277 
 
 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 of cloth as well as that of silk, these 
 unnatural operations must be supported by mutual prohibi- 
 tions, 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 re- 
 ceive makes them neither happier nor richer, since they on- 
 ly drink more and work less. Therefore the governments in 
 America do nothing to encourage such projects. The people 
 by this means are not imposed on either by the merchant or 
 mechanic : if the merchant demands too much profit on im- 
 ported 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 
 labor in America, beyond what he had in Europe, as he 
 can add to his price a sum nearly equal to all the expenses 
 of freight and commission, risk or assurance, &c. necessa- 
 rily charged by the merchant. And the case is the same 
 with the workmen in every other mechanic art. Hence it 
 is that the artisans generally live better and more easily in 
 America than in Europe ; and such as are good economists 
 make a comfortable provision for age, and for their chil- 
 dren. Such may, therefore, remove with advantage to 
 America. 
 
 In the old, long-settled countries of Europe, all arts, 
 trades, professions, farms, &c. are so full that it is difficult 
 for a poor man who has children to place them where they 
 may gain, or learn to gain, a decent livelihood. The arti- 
 sans 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 dragged up in ignorance of every 
 gainful art, and obliged to become soldiers, or servants, or 
 thieves, for a subsistence. In America the rapid increase 
 of inhabitants takes away that fear of rivalship, and arti- 
 sans wElingly receive apprentices from the hope of profit by 
 their labor, during the remainder of the time stipulated, af- 
 ter they shall be instructed. Hence it is easy for poor fami" 
 24 
 
278 ESSAYS. 
 
 lies to get their children instructed ; for the artisans are so de- 
 sirous of apprentices, that many of them will even give mo- 
 ney to the parent?, 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 suf- 
 ficient to establish themselves, and to subsist the rest of the 
 family by agriculture. These contracts for apprentices are 
 made before a magistrate, who regulates the agreement ac- 
 cording to reason and justice; and having in view the form- 
 ation of a future useful citizen, obliges the roaster to engage 
 by a written indenture, not only that, during the time of 
 sen ice stipulated, the apprentice shall be duly provided 
 with meat, drink, apparel, washing, and lodging, and at its 
 expiration with a complete new suit of clothes, but also, 
 that he shall be taught to- read, write, and cast accounts; 
 and that he shall be well instructed in the art or profession 
 of his master, or some other, by which he may 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 employed in working for them, induces 
 them to pay the passage of young persons of both sexes, 
 who, on their arrival, agree to serve them one, two, three, 
 or four years ; those who have already learned a trade, agree- 
 ing 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 employ- 
 ment 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 pa- 
 rents. 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; and 
 
ESSAYS. 279 
 
 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 Di- 
 vine Being seems to have manifested his approbation of the 
 mutual forbearance and kindness with which the different 
 eects treat each other, b3 r the remarkable prosperity with 
 which He has been pleased to favor the whole country. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON COMMERCIAL SUBJECTS. 
 OF EMBARGOES UPON CORN, AND OF THE POOR. 
 
 In inland high countries, remote from the sea, and whose 
 rivers are small, running from the country and not to it, 
 as is the case with Switzerland ; great distress may arise 
 from a course of bad harvests, if public granaries are not 
 provided and kept well stored. Anciently, too, before nav- 
 igation was so general, ships so plenty, and commercial 
 transactions so well established, even maritime countries 
 might be occasionally distressed by bad crops. But such is 
 now the facility of communication between those countries, 
 that an unrestrained commerce can scarce ever fail of pro- 
 curing a sufficiency for any of them. If indeed any gov- 
 ernment is so imprudent as to lay its hands on imported 
 com, forbid its exportation, or compel its sale at limited 
 prices, there the people may suffer some famine from 
 merchants avoiding their ports. But wherever commerce 
 is known to be always free, and the merchant absolute 
 master of his commodity, as in Holland, there will always 
 be a reasonable supply. 
 
 When an exportation of corn takes place, occasioned by 
 a higher price in some foreign countries, it is common to 
 raise a clamor, on the supposition that we shall thereby pro- 
 duce a domestic famine. Then follows a prohibition 
 founded on the imaginary distresses of the poor. The poor 
 to be sure, if in distress, should be relieved ; but if the far- 
 mer could have a high price for his corn from the foreign 
 demand, must he by a prohibition of exportation be com- 
 pelled to take a low price, not of the poor only, but of every 
 .one that eats bread, even the richest'? The duty of reliev- 
 
280 ESSAYS. 
 
 ing the poor is incumbent on the rich ; but by this operation 
 the whole burden of it. is laid on the fanner, who is to re- 
 lieve the rich at the same time. Of the poor, too, those 
 who are maintained by the parishes have no right to claim 
 this sacrifice of the fanner; as while they have their allow- 
 ance, it makes no difference to them whether bread be cheap 
 or dear. Those working poor, who now mind business only 
 five Ox four days in the week, if bread should be so dear as 
 to oblige them to work the whole six required by the com- 
 mandment, do not seem to be aggrieved, so as to have a 
 right to public redress. There will then remain, compara- 
 tively, only a feu families in every district, who, from sick- 
 ness or a great number of children, will be so distressed by 
 a high price of com as to need relief; and these should be 
 taken care of by particular benefactions, without restraining 
 the farmer's profit 
 
 Those who fear that exportation may so far drain the 
 country of corn, as to starve ourselves, fear what never did 
 nor never can happen. They may as well, when they view 
 the tide ebbing towards the sea, fear that all the water will 
 leave the river. The price of com, iike water, will find 
 its own level. The more we export, the dearer it becomes 
 at home ; the more is received abroad, the cheaper it be- 
 comes there ; and as soon as these prices are equal, the 
 exportation stops of course. As the seasons vary in differ- 
 ent countries, the calamity of a bad harvest is never uni- 
 versal. If, then, all ports were always open, and all com- 
 merce free, every maritime country would generally eat 
 bread at the medium price, or average of all the harvests, 
 which would probably be more equal than we can make it by 
 our artificial regulations, and therefore a more steady en- 
 couragement to agriculture. The nation would all have 
 bread at this middle price; and that nation, which at any 
 time inhumanly refuses to relieve the distresses of another 
 nation, deserves no compassion when in distress itself. 
 
 OP THE EFFECT OF DEARXESS OF PROVISIONS UPON 
 WORKING, AND UPON MANUFACTURES. 
 
 The common people do not work for pleasure gene- 
 rally, but from necessity. Cheapness of provisions 
 makes them more idle; less work is then done, it is then 
 more in demand proportionally, and of course the price ri- 
 
ESSAYS, 281 
 
 ses. Dearness of provisions obliges the manufacturer to 
 work more days and more hours ; thus more work is done 
 than equals the usual demand ; of course it becomes cheap- 
 er, and the manufactures in consequence. 
 
 OF AN OPEN TRADE. 
 
 Perhaps, in general, it would be better if government 
 meddled no farther with trade than to protect it, and let it 
 take its course. Most of the statutes or acts, edicts, arrets, 
 and placarts of parliaments, priuces, and states, for regulat- 
 ing, directing, or restraining of trade, have, we thiuk, been 
 either political blunders, or jobs obtained by artful men for 
 private advantage, under pretence of public good. When 
 Colbert assembled some of the wise old merchants of 
 France, and desired their advice and opinion how he could 
 best serve and promote commerce ; their answer, after con- 
 sultation, was in three words only, Laissez nous /aire, 
 4 Let us alone.' — It is said, by a very solid writer of the 
 same nation, that he is well advanced in the science of poli- 
 tics, who knows the full force of that maxim, Pas trop gou- 
 verher. ' not to govern too much ;' which perhaps would be 
 of more use when applied to trade than in any other pub- 
 lic concern. It were therefore to be wished, that commerce 
 were as free between all the nations of the world as it 
 is between the several counties of England ; so would all, 
 by mutual communications, obtain more enjoyments. 
 Those counties do not ruin each other by trade, neither 
 would the nations. No nation was ever ruined by trade, 
 even, seemingly the most disadvantageous. 
 
 Wherever desirable superfluities are imported, industry 
 is excited, and thereby plenty is produced. Were only 
 necessaries permitted to be purchased, men would work no 
 more than was necessaiy for that purpose. 
 
 OF PROHIBITIONS WITH RESPECT TO THE EXPORT- 
 ATION OF GOLD AND SILVER. 
 
 Could Spain and Portugal have succeeded in executing 
 their foolish laws for hedging in the cuckoo, as Locke calls 
 it, and have kept at home all their gold and silver, those 
 metals would, by this time, have been of little more value 
 than so much lead or iron. Their plenty would have lessen* 
 ed their value. 
 24* 
 
282 ESSAYS. 
 
 We see the folly of these edicts ; but are not our own prohi- 
 bitory and restrictive laws, that arc professedly made with in- 
 tention to bring a balance in our favor from our trade with for- 
 eign nations to be paid in money, and laws to prevent the ne- 
 cessity of exporting that money, which if they could be tho- 
 roughly executed, would make money as plenty and of as 
 little value; I say, are not such laws akin to those Spanish 
 edicts; follies of the same family ? 
 
 ' OF THE RETURNS FOR FOREIGN ARTICLES. 
 
 In fact, the produce of other countries can hardly be ob- 
 tained, unless by fraud and rapine, without giving the pro- 
 duce of our land or our industry in exchange for thein. If 
 we have mines of gold and silver,gold and silver may then be 
 called the produce of our land; if we have not, we can only 
 fairly obtain those metals by giving for them the produce of our 
 land or industry. When we have them, they are then only 
 thatlproducc or industry in another shape ; which we may give 
 if the trade requires it and our other produce will not suit in 
 exchange for the produce of some other country that furnish 
 es what we have more occasion for, or more desire. When 
 we have, to an inconvenient degree, parted with our gold 
 dnd silver, our industry is stimulated afresh to procure more ; 
 that by its means we may contrive to procure the same ad 
 vantages. 
 
 OF RESTRAINTS UPON COMMERCE IN TIME OF WAR. 
 
 When princes make war by prohibiting commerce, each 
 may hurt himself as much as his enemy. Traders, who by 
 their business are promoting the common good of mankind, 
 as well as farmers and fishermen, who labor for the subsis- 
 tence of all, should never be interrupted or molested in their 
 business, but enjoy the protection of all in the time of war, 
 as well as in time of peace. 
 
 This policy, those we are pleased to call barbarians have 
 in a great measure adopted : for the trading subjects of any 
 power with whom the Emperor of Morocco may be at war, 
 are not liable to capture, when within sight of his land, go- 
 ing or coming; and have otherwise free liberty to trade and 
 reside in his dominions. 
 
 As a maritime power, we presume it is not thought right 
 that Great Britain should grant such freedom except 
 
ESSAYS. 283 
 
 partially, as in the case of war with France, when tobac- 
 co is allowed to be sent thither under the sanction of 
 
 passports. 
 
 EXCHANGES IN TRADE MAY BE GAINFUL TO EACH 
 PARTY. 
 
 In transactions of trade it is not to be supposed that, like 
 gaming, what one party gains the other must necessarily 
 Iqse. The gain to each may be equal. If A has more com 
 than he can consume, but wants cattle ; and B has more 
 cattle, but wants com, exchange is gain to each : hereby the 
 common stock of comforts in life is increased. 
 
 OF PAPER CREDIT. 
 
 It is impossible for government to circumscribe or fix 
 the extent of paper credit, which must of course fluctuate. 
 Government may as well pretend to lay down rules for the 
 operations or the confidence of every individual in the course 
 of his trade. Any seeming temporary evil arising musr 
 naturally work its own cure. 
 
 HUMOROUS ACCOUNT 
 
 OF A CUSTOM AMONG THE AMERICANS, ENTITLED 
 WHITE-WASHING. 
 
 ATTRIBUTED TO THE PEN OF DR. FRANKLIN. 
 
 Although the following article has not yet appeared in any 
 collection of the works of tins great philosopher, we are in- 
 clined to receive the general opinion (from the plainness of 
 the style, and the humor which characterizes it,) to be the 
 performance of Dr. Franklin. 
 
 My wish is to j r ougive some account of the people of these 
 new states, but I am far from being qualified for the purpose, 
 having as yet seen little more than the cities of N. York and 
 Philadelphia. I have discovered but few national singulari- 
 ties among them. Their customs and manners are nearly the 
 same with those of England, which they have long been 
 used to copy. For, previous to the Revolution, the Ameri- 
 cans were, from their infancy, taught to look up to the Eng- 
 
2&1 ESSAYS. 
 
 lish as patterns of perfection in all things. I have observ- 
 ed, however, one custom, which, for aught I know, is pecu- 
 liar to this country ; an account of it will serve to fill up 
 the remainder ot" this sheet, and may afford you some amuse- 
 ment. 
 
 When a young couple are about to enter into the matri- 
 monial state, a never-failing article in the marriage treaty is, 
 that the lady shall have and enjoy the free and unmolested 
 exercise of the rights of white-washing, with all its ceremo- 
 nials, privileges, aild appurtenances. A young woman 
 would forego the most advantageous connexion, and even 
 disappoint the warmest wish of her heart, rather than re- 
 sign the invaluable right. You would wonder what this 
 privilge of white-washing is : I will endeavor to give you 
 some idea of the ceremony, as I have seen it performed. 
 
 There is no season of the year in which the lady may not 
 claim her privilege, if she pleases; but the latter end of May 
 is most generally fixed upon for. the purpose. The atten- 
 tive husband may judge by certain prognostics when the 
 storm is nigh at hand. When the lady is unusually fretful, 
 finds fault with the servants, is discontented with the chil 
 dren, and complains much of the filthiness of everything 
 about her — these are signs which ought not to be neglected ; 
 yet they are not decisive, as they sometimes come on and go 
 off again, without producing any farther effect. But. if, when 
 the husband rises in the morning, he should observe in the 
 yard a wheelbarrow with a quantity of lime in it, or should 
 see certain buckets with lime dissolved in water, there is then 
 no time to be lost ; he immediately locks up the apartment or 
 closet where his papers or his private property is kept, and 
 putting the key in his pocket, betakes himself to flight: for, 
 a husband, however beloved, becomes a perfect nuisance 
 during this season of female rage, his authority is supersed- 
 ed, his commission is suspended, and the very scullion, who 
 cleans the brasses in the kitchen, becomes of more conside- 
 ration and importance than him. He has nothing for it, 
 but to abdicate and run from an evil which he' can neither 
 prevent nor mollify. 
 
 The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The walls are 
 in a few minutes stripped of their furniture ; paintings, 
 prints, and looking-glasses lie in a huddled heap about the 
 floors; the curtains are torn from the testers, the beds cram- 
 
ESSAYS. 285 
 
 sned into the windows ; chairs and tables, bedsteads and 
 cradles, crowd the yard ; and the garden fence bends be- 
 neath the weight of carpets, blankets, cloth cloaks, old 
 coats, and ragged breeches. Here may be seen the lumber 
 of the- kitchen, forming a dark and confused mass, for the 
 foreground of the picture, gridirons and fryingpans, rusty 
 shovels and broken tongs, spits and pots, and the fractured 
 remains of rush-bottomed chairs. There a closet has dis- 
 gorged its bowels, cracked tumblers, broken wine-glasses, 
 phials of forgotten physic, papers of unknown powders, 
 seeds and dried herbs, handfuls of old corks, tops of tea- 
 pots, and stoppers of departed decanters ; — from the raghole 
 in the garret to the rathole in the cellar, no place escapes 
 imrummaged. It would seem as if the day of general 
 doom Avas come, and the utensils of the house were dragged 
 forth to judgment. In this tempest the words of Lear nat- 
 urally present themselves, and might, with some alteration, 
 be made strictly applicable : 
 
 -' Let the great gods, 
 
 That keep this dreadful pudder o'er our heads, 
 Find out their enemies now. Tremhle, thou wretch, 
 That hast within thee, undivulged crimes 
 Unwhipt of justice !' 
 
 ' Close pent-up guilt, 
 
 Raise your concealing continents, and ask 
 These dreadful summoners grace 1' 
 
 This ceremony completed, and the house thoroughly 
 evacuated, the next operation is to smear the walls and ceil- 
 ings of every room and closet with brushes dapped in a so- 
 lution of lime, called white-icash; to pour buckets of water 
 over every floor, and scratch all the partitions and wainscots 
 with rough brushes, wet with soap suds, and dipped in 
 stone-cutter's sand. The windows by no means escape the 
 general deluge. A servant scrambles out upon the pent- 
 house, at the risk of her neck, and with a mug in her hand, 
 and a bucket within reach, she dashes away innumerable 
 gallons of water against the glass panes ; to the great annoy- 
 ance of the passengers in the streets. 
 
 I have been told that an action at law was once brought 
 against one of these water-nymphs, by a person who had a 
 new suit of clothes spoiled by this operation ; but, after a 
 long argument, it was determined by the whole court that 
 
286 ESSAYS. 
 
 the action would not lie, inasmuch as the defendant 
 was in the exercise of a legal right, and not answerable for 
 file consequences ; and so the poor gentleman was doubly 
 nonsuited ; for he lost not only his suit of clothes, but bis 
 suit at law. 
 
 These sineanngs, scratching?, was' bings rind dashings, being 
 duly performed, the next ceremony is to cleanse and replace 
 the distracted furniture. Vqu may have seen a house-raising 
 or a ship-launch, when all the hands within reach are col- 
 lected together: recollect, if you can, the hurry, bustle, con- 
 fusion, and noise, of such a scene, and you will have some 
 idea of this cleaning match. 'The misfortune is that the 
 sole object is to make things clean ; it matters not how ma- 
 ny useful, ornamental or valuable articles are mutilated, or 
 suffer death under the operation : a mahogany chair and 
 carved frame undergo the same discipline; they are to be 
 made clean at all events? but their preservation is not wor- 
 thy of attention. For instance, a fine large engraving is laid 
 flat upon the floor; smaller prints are piled upon it, and the 
 superincumbent weight cracks the glasses of the lower tier, 
 but this is of no consequence. A valuable picture is placed 
 leaning against the sharp corner of a table; others are 
 made to lean against that, until the pressure of the whole 
 forces the corner of the table through the canvas of the first. 
 The frame and glass of a fine print are to be cleaned; the 
 spirit and oil used on this occasion are suffered to leak 
 through and spoil the engraving; no matter, if the glass is 
 clean and the frame shine, it is sufficient : the rest is not 
 worthy of consideration. An able arithmetician has made 
 an accurate calculation, founded on long experience, and 
 has discovered that the losses and destruction incident to 
 two white-washings are equal to one removal, and three re- 
 movals equal to one fire. 
 
 The cleaning frolic over, matters begin to resume their 
 pristine appearance. The storm abates, and all would be 
 well again, but it is impossible that so great a convulsion in 
 so small a community, should not produce some farther ef- 
 fects. For two or three weeks after the operation, the fami- 
 ly are usually afflicted with sore throats or sore eyes, occa- 
 sioned by the caustic quality of the lime, or with severe 
 colds from the exhalations of wet floors or damp walls. 
 1 knew a gentleman, who was fond of accounting for eve- 
 
ESSAYS. 287 
 
 ry thing in a philosophical way. He considers this, which I 
 have called a custom, as a real periodical disease peculiar to 
 the climate. His train of reasoning is ingenious and whim- 
 sical ; but I am not at leisure to give you a detail. The re- 
 sult was, that he found the distemper to be incurable ; but 
 after much study he conceived he had discovered a method 
 to divert the evil he could not subdue. For this purpose he 
 caused a small building, about 12 feet square, to be erected 
 in his garden, and furnished with some ordinary chairs and 
 tables ; and a few prints of the cheapest sort were hung 
 against the walls. His hope was, that when the white- 
 washing frenzy seized the females of his family, they might 
 repair to this apartment ,■ and scrub, and smear, and scour, to 
 their heart's content : and so spend the violence of the disease 
 in this out-post, while he enjoyed himself in quiet at head- 
 quarters. But the experiment did not answer his expecta- 
 tion: it was impossible it should, since a prinicpal part of 
 the gratification consists in the lady's having an uncontrol- 
 led right to torment her husband at least once a year, and to 
 turn him out of doors,- and take the reins of government in- 
 to her own hands.' 
 
 There is a much better contrivance than this of the phi- 
 losopher's; which is, to cover the walls of the house with 
 paper: this is generally done; and though it cannot abolish 
 it at least shortens the period of female dominion. The 
 paper is decorated with flowers of various fancies,- and 
 made so ornamental, that the women have admitted the 
 fashion without perceiving the design. 
 
 There is also another alleviation of the hushand's dis- 
 tress ; he generally has the privilege of a small room or clo- 
 set for his books and papers^ the key of which he is allowed 
 to keep. This is considered as a privileged place, and 
 stands like the land of Goshen amid the plagues of Egypt. 
 But then he must be extremely cautious^ and ever on his 
 guard ; for should he inadvertently go abroad and leave the 
 key in his door, the housemaid, who is always on the watch 
 for such an opportunity, immediately enters in triumph with 
 buckets, brooms and brushes; takes possession of the premi- 
 ses, and forthwith puts all his books and papers to rights — 
 to his utter confusion, and sometimes serious detriment. 
 For instance : 
 
 A gentleman was sued by the executors of a tradesman, 
 
288 ESSAYS. 
 
 on a charge found against him in the deceased's books, to the 
 amount of thirty pounds. The defendant was strongly im- 
 pressed with an idea that be had discharged the debt and ta- 
 ken a receipt; but as the transaction was of long standing, 
 he knew not where to find the receipt. The suit went on in 
 course, and the time approached when judgment would be 
 obtained against him. He then sat seriously down to ex- 
 amine a large bundle of old papers, which he had untied and 
 displayed on a table for that purpose. In the midst of his 
 search, he was suddenly called away on business of impor- 
 tance ; he forgot to lock the door of his room. The house- 
 maid, who had been long looking out for such an opportuni- 
 ty, immediately entered with the usual implements, and 
 with great alacrity fell to cleaning the room, and putting 
 things to rights. The first object that struck her eye was the 
 confused situation of the papers on the table ; these were 
 without delay bundled together like so many dirty knives 
 and forks ; but in the action a small piece of paper fell un- 
 noticed on the floor, which happened to be the very receipt 
 in question : as it had no very respectable appearance, it 
 was soon after swept out with the common dirt of the room, 
 and carried in a rubbish pan into the yard. The trades- 
 man had neglected to enter the credit in his book : the de- 
 fendant could find nothing to obviate the charge, and 
 so judgment went against him for the debt and costs. A 
 fortnight after the whole was settled, and the money paid, 
 one of the children found the receipt among the rubbish in 
 the yard. 
 
 There is also another custom peculiar to the city of Phil- 
 adelphia, and nearly allied to the former. I mean that of 
 washing the pavement before the doors every Saturday even- 
 ing. I at first took this to be a regulation of the police ; 
 but, on further enquiry, find it is a religious rite, preparato- 
 ry to the Sabbath ; and is, I believe, the only religious rite 
 in which the numerous sectaries of this city perfectly agree. 
 The ceremony begins about sunset, and continues till about 
 ten or eleven at night. It is very difficult for a stranger to 
 walk the streets on those evenings: he runs a continual risk 
 of having a bucket of dirty water thrown against his legs; 
 but a Philadelphian born is so much accustomed to the dan- 
 ger, that he avoids it with surprising dexterity. It is from 
 this circumstance that a Philadelphian may be known any 
 
ESSAYS. 289 
 
 where by his gait. The streets of New York are paved 
 with rough stones ; these indeed are not washed, but the 
 dirt is so thoroughly swept from before the doors, that the 
 stones stand up sharp and prominent, to the great inconve- 
 nience of those who are not accustomed to so rough a path. 
 But habit reconciles every thing. It is diverting enough to 
 see a Philadelphian at New York ; he walks the streets 
 with as much most painful caution, as if his toes were cov- 
 ered with corns, or his feet lamed with the gout ; while a 
 New Yorker, as little approving the plain masonry of Phil- 
 adelphia, shuffles along the pavement like a parrot on a ma- 
 hogany table. 
 
 It must be acknowledged that the ablutions I have men- 
 tioned are attended with no small inconvenience ; but the 
 women would not be induced, from any consideration, to 
 resign their privilege. Notwithstanding this I can give you 
 the strongest assurances that the women of America make 
 the most faithful wives and the most attentive mothers in the 
 world ; and I am sure you will join me in opinion, that if a 
 married man is made miserable only one week in a whole 
 year, he will have no great cause to complain of the matri- 
 monial bond. 
 
 I am, &c. 
 
 ANSWER TO THE ABOVE. 
 
 IN- -THE CHARACTER OF A LADY: BUT REALLY BY 
 THE SAME HAND. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 I have lately seen a letter upon the subject of white- 
 washing, in which that necessary duty of a good housewife 
 is treated with unmerited ridicule. I should probably 
 have forgot the foolish thing by this time ; but the season 
 coming on which most women think suitable for cleansing 
 their apartments from smoke and dirt of the winter, I find 
 this saucy author dished up in every family, and his flip- 
 pant performance quoted wherever a wife attempts to exer- 
 cise her reasonable prerogative, or execute the duties of her 
 station. Women generally employ their time to better pur- 
 25 N 
 
290 ESSAYS. 
 
 pose than scribbling. The cares and comforts of a fairriiy 
 rest principally upon their shoulders ; hence it is that there 
 are but few female authors; and the men, knowing how ne- 
 cessary our attentions are to their happiness, take every op- 
 portunity of discouraging literary accomplishments in the 
 fair sex. You hear it echoed from every quarter, ' My wife 
 cannot make verses, it is true ; but she makes an excellent 
 pudding; she can't correct the press, but she can correct her 
 children, and scold her servants with admirable discretion ; 
 she can't unravel the intricacies of political economy and 
 federal government, but ohe can knit charming stockings.' 
 And this they call praising a wife, and doing justice to her 
 character, with much nonsense of the like kind. 
 
 I say, women generally employ their time to much better 
 purpose than scribbling; otherwise this facetious writer had 
 not gone so long unanswered. We have ladies who some- 
 times lay down the needle and take up the pen : I wonder 
 none of them have attempted some reply. For my part, I 
 do not pretend to be an author. I never appeared in print 
 in my life, but I can no longer forbear saying something in 
 answer to such impertinence, circulate how it may. Only, 
 sir, consider our situation. Men are naturally inattentive 
 to the decencies of life; but why should I be so complai- 
 sant ?- I say, they are naturally filthy creatures. If it were 
 not that their connexion with the refined sex polished their 
 manners, and had a happy influence on the general econo- 
 my of life, these lords of the creation would wallow in filth, 
 and populous cities would infect the atmosphere with their 
 noxious vapors. It is the attention and assiduity of the 
 women that prevent men from degenerating into mere swine. 
 How important then are the services we render; and yet 
 for these very services we are made the subject of ricficule 
 and fun. Base ingratitude ! Nauseous creatures ! Per- 
 haps you may think I am in a passion. No, sir, I do as- 
 sure you I never was more composed in my life ; and yet it 
 is enough to provoke a saint to see how' unreasonably we 
 are treated by the men. Why now, there's my husband — 
 a good enough sort of a man in the main — but I will give 
 you a sample of him. He comes into the parlor the other 
 day, where, to be sure, I was cutting up a piece of linen. 
 4 Lord !' says he, what a flutter here is ! I can't bear to see the 
 parlor look like a tailor's shop : besides I am going to make 
 
ESSAYS. 291 
 
 some important philosophical experiments, and must have 
 sufficient room.' You must know, my husband is one of 
 your would-be philosophers. Well, I bundled up my linen 
 as quick as I could, and began to darn a pair of ruffles, 
 which took no room, and could give no offence. I thought, 
 however, I would watch my lord and master's important 
 business. In about a half an hour the tables were covered 
 with all manner of trumpery; bottles of water, phials of 
 drugs, paste-board, paper and cards, glue, paste and gum 
 arabic; files, knives, scissors, needles, rosin, wax, silk, 
 thread, rags, jags, tags, books, pamphlets, and papers. 
 Lord bless me ! I am almost out of breath, and yet I have 
 not enumerated half the articles. Well, to work he went, 
 and although I did not understand the object of his manoeu- 
 vres, yet I could sufficiently discover that he did not succeed 
 in any one operation. I was glad of that, I confess, and 
 with good reason, too : for, after he had fatigued himself 
 with mischief, like a monkey in a china shop, and had call- 
 ed the servants to clear every thing away, I took a view of 
 the scene my parlor exhibited. I shall not even attempt a 
 minute description ; suffice it to say, that he had overset his 
 ink-stand, and stained my best mahogany table with ink ; 
 he had spilt a quantity of vitriol, and burnt a large hole in 
 my carpet : my marble hearth was all over spotted with 
 melted rosin : besides this, he had broken three china cups, 
 four wine-glasses, two tumblers, and one of my handsomest 
 decanters. And, after all, as I said before, I perceived that 
 he had not succeeded in any one operation. By-the-by, tell 
 your friend, the white-wash scribbler, that this is one means 
 by which our closets become furnished with halves of china 
 bowls, cracked tumblers, broken wine-glasses, tops of tea- 
 pots, and stoppers of departed decanters. I, I say, took a 
 view of the dirt and devastation which my philosophic hus- 
 band had occasioned ; and there I sat, like Patience on a 
 monument, smiling at grief; but it worked inwardly. I 
 would almost as soon the melted rosin and vitriol had been 
 in his throat, as on my dear marble hearth, and my beauti- 
 ful carpet. It is not true that women have no power 
 over their own feelings ; for notwithstanding this provoca- 
 tion I said nothing, or next to nothing : for I only ob- 
 served, very pleasantly, what a lady of my acquain- 
 tance had told me, that the reason why philosophers are 
 
292 ESSAYS. 
 
 culled literary men, is because they make a great Utter: 
 not a word more : however, the servant clewed away, and 
 down sat the philosopher. A friend dropped in soon 
 after — ^Your servant, Sir: how do youdoP 'OLord! 
 1 am almost fatigued to death ; 1 have been all the morning 
 making philosophical experiments.' I was now more. hard- 
 ly put to it to smother a laugh than I had been just before 
 to contain nay rage; \ny precious went out soon after, and 1, 
 as you may suppose, mustered all my forces: brushes, buck- 
 els, s >ap, sand, limeskins, and cocoanut shells, with all the 
 powers of housewifery, were immediately employed. I 
 was certainly the best philosopher of the two; for my ex- 
 periments succeeded, and his did not. All was well again, 
 except my poor carpet — my vitriolized carpet,' which still 
 continued a mournful memento of philosophic fury, or rath- 
 er philosophic folly. The operation was scarce over, when 
 in came my experimental philosopher, and told me with all 
 the indifference in the world, that he had invited six gentle- 
 men to dine with him at three o'clock. It was dren past 
 one. I complained of the short notice; SPoh! poh!' said 
 he, 'you can get a leg of mutton, and a loin of veal, and a 
 few potatoes, which will do well enough.' Heavens! what 
 a chaos must the head of a philosopher be ! a leg of mutton, 
 a loin of veal, and potatoes! I was at a loss whether I 
 should laugh or be angry ; but there was no time for deter- 
 mining : I had but an hour and a half to do a world of busi- 
 ness in. My carpet, which had suffered in the cause of ex- 
 perimental philosophy in the morning, was destined to be 
 most shamefully dishonored in the afternoon by a deluge of 
 nasty tobacco juice. Gentlemen smokers love segars better 
 than carpets. Think, Sir, what a woman must endure un- 
 der such circumstances; and then, after all, to be reproach- 
 ed with her cleanliness, and to have, her white-washings, 
 her scourings, and scrubbings, made the subject of ridicule — 
 it is more than patience can put up with. What I have now 
 exhibited is but a small specimen of the injuries we sustain 
 from the boasted superiority of men. But we will not be 
 laughed out of our cleanliness. A woman would rather 
 be called any thing than a slut, as a man would rather be 
 thought a knave than a fool. I had a great deal more to 
 say, but am called away; we are just preparing to white- 
 wash, and of course I have a deal of business on my hands. 
 
ESSAYS. 293 
 
 The white-wash huckets are paraded, the brushes are ready, 
 my husband is gone off— so much the better ; when we are 
 upon a thorough cleaning, the first dirty thing to be remov- 
 ed is one's husband. I am called for again. Adieu. 
 
 FINAL SPEECH OF DR. FRANKLIN IN THE 
 LATE FEDERAL CONVENTIONS 
 
 MR. PRESIDENT, 
 
 I confess that I qo not entirely approve of this Const! 
 tution 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 opinions even on important sub- 
 jects, which I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. 
 It is, therefore, that the older I grow the more apt I am tc 
 doubt my own judgment, and to pay more respect to the 
 judgment of others. Most men, indeed, as well as most sects 
 in religion, think themselves in possession of all truth, and 
 that whenever others differ from them, it is so far error. 
 Steele, a protestant, in a dedication, tells the Pope, that, 
 'the only difference between our two churches, in their 
 opinions to the certainty of their doctrines, is, the Ro- 
 mish church is infallible, and the church of England never 
 in the wrong.' But, though many private persons think al- 
 most as highly of their own infallibility as that of their sect, 
 few express it so naturally as a certain French lady, who, 
 in a little dispute with her sister, said, ' I don't know how it 
 happens, sister, but I meet with nobody but myself that is 
 always in the right.' II ri>y a que moi qui a toujour s rai- 
 son. In these sentiments, Sir, I agree to this constitution, 
 with all its faults, if they are such ; because I think a gene- 
 ral government necessaiy for us, and there is no form of go- 
 vernment but what may be a blessing, if well administered ; 
 and I believe, farther, that this is likely to be well adminis- 
 tered for a course of years, and can only end in despotism, 
 
 *Our reasons for ascribing this speech to Dr. Franklin are its in- 
 ternal evidence, and its having appeared with his name during hia 
 lifetime, uncontradicted, in an American periodical publication. 
 
294 ESSAYS. 
 
 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 con- 
 stitution : for when you assemble a number of men, to have 
 the advantage of their joint wisdom, you inevitably assem- 
 ble 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 he expect- 
 ed? It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this system ap- 
 proaching so near to perfection as it does; audi think it 
 will astonish our enemies, who are waiting with confidence 
 to hear that our councils are confounded, like those of the 
 builders of Babylon, and that our States are on the point 
 of separation, only to meet hereafter for the purpose of cut- 
 ting each other's throats. 
 
 Thus I consent, Sir, to this constitution; because I expect 
 no better, and because I am not sure that this is not the best. 
 The opinions I have had of its errors, I sacrifice to the pub- 
 lic good. I have never whispered a syllable of them abroad. 
 Within these walls they were born, and here they shall die. 
 Jf every one of us in returning to our constituents, were to re- 
 port the objections he has had to it, and endeavor to gain par- 
 lisansin support of them, we might prevent its being generally 
 received, and thereby lose all the salutary effects and great 
 advantages resulting naturally in our favor among foreign 
 nations, as well as among ourselves, from our real or appa- 
 rent 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 the wisdom and integrity 
 of its governors. 
 
 I hope, therefore, that for our own sakes, as a part of the 
 people, and for the sake of our posterity, we shall act heart- 
 ily and unanimousty in recommending this - constitution, 
 wherever our influence may extend, and turn our future 
 thoughts and endeavors 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 objec- 
 tions, would with me, on this occasion, doubt a little of his 
 
 25* 
 
ESSAYS. 295 
 
 own infallibility, and, to make manifest our unanimity, put 
 his name to this instrument. 
 
 [The motion was then made for adding the last formula, 
 viz : 
 
 Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent, &c. 
 which was agreed to, and added accordingly.] 
 
 PREFERENCE OF BOWS AND ARROWS IN WAR 
 TO FIRE-ARMS. 
 
 TO MAJOR GENERAL LEE. 
 
 dear sir, Philadelphia, Feb. 11, 1776. 
 
 The bearer, Mons. Arundel, is directed by the Congress 
 to repair to General Schuyler, in order to be employed by 
 him in the artillery service. He proposes to wait on you in 
 his way, and has requested me to introduce him by a line to 
 you. Be has been an officer in the French service, as 
 you will see by his commissions ; and professing a good will 
 to our cause, I hope he maybe useful in instructing ourgun~\ 
 ners and matrosses : perhaps he may advise in opening the 
 nailed cannon. 
 
 I received the enclosed the other day from an officer, Mr. 
 Newland, who served in the two last wars, and was known 
 by General Gates, who spoke well of him to me when I was 
 at Cambridge. He is desirous now of entering into your 
 service. I have advised him to wait upon you at New 
 York. 
 
 They still talk'oi'J in England and threaten hard ; but their 
 language is somewhat civiler, at least not quite so disres- 
 pectful to us. By degrees they come to their senses ; but 
 too late, I fancy, for their interest. 
 
 We have got a large quantity of saltpetre, one hundred 
 and twenty tons, and thirty more expected. Powder mills 
 are now wanting ; I believe we must set to work and make it 
 by hand. But I still wish, with you, that pikes could be 
 introduced, and I would add bows and arrows : these were 
 good weapons, and not wisely laid aside. 
 
 1. Because a man may shoot as truly with a bow as with 
 a common musket. 
 
296 ESSAYS. 
 
 2% He can discharge four arrows in the time of charging 
 and discharging one bullet. 
 
 3. His object is not taken from his view by the smoke of 
 his own side. 
 
 4. A flight of arrows seen coming upon them terrifies and 
 disturbs the enemy's attention to his business. 
 
 5. An arrow sticking in any part of a man, puts him hors 
 du combat till it is extracted. 
 
 6. Bows and arrows are more easily provided every 
 where than muskets and ammunition. 
 
 Polydore Virgil, speaking of one of our battles against the 
 French, in Edward the Third's reign, mentions the great 
 confusion the enemy was thrown into, sagittarum nube, 
 from the English ; and concludes, Est res profecto dictu 
 mirabilis ut tantus acpolens exercitus a soils fere Jlnglicis 
 sagiltariis virtus faerit; adeo Jlnglus est sagittipotens, et 
 id gcniis armorum valet. If so much execution was done 
 by arrows when men wore some defensive armor, how* 
 much more might be done now that it is out of use ! 
 
 I am glad you are come to New York, but I also wish 
 you could be in Canada. There is a kind of suspense in 
 men's minds here at present, waiting to see what terms will 
 be offered from England. I expect none that we can ac- 
 cept ; and when that is generally seen, we shall be more 
 unanimous and more decisive : then your proposed solemn 
 league and covenant will go better down, and perhaps most 
 of our other strong measures be adopted. 
 
 I am always glad to hear from you, but I do not deserve 
 your favors, being so bad a correspondent. My eyes will 
 now hardly serve me to write by night, and these short days 
 have been all taken up with such a variety of business that 
 I seldom can sit down ten minutes without interruption — 
 God give you success ! 
 
 I am, with the greatest esteem, 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
ESSAYS. 297 
 
 ON THE THEORY OF THE EARTH. 
 TO ABBE SOULIAVE. 
 
 Passy, September 22, 1782. 
 
 €IR, 
 
 I return the papers with some corrections. I did not find 
 coal mines under the calcareous rock in Derbyshire. I only 
 remarked, that at the lowest part of that rocky mountain 
 which was in sight, there were oyster shells mixed with the 
 stone ; and part of the high country of Derby being probably 
 as much above the level of the sea, as the coal mines of White- 
 haven were below, it seemed a proof that there had been a 
 great bouleversement in the surface of that island, some 
 part of it having been depressed under the sea, and other 
 parts, which had been under it, being raised above it. Such 
 changes in the superficial parts of the globe seemed to me 
 unlikely to happen, if the earth were solid at the centre. I 
 therefore imagined that the internal parts might be a fluid 
 more dense, and of greater specific gravity than any of the 
 solids we are acquainted with ; which therefore might swim 
 in or upon that fluid. Thus the surface of the globe would 
 be a shell, capable of being broken and disordered by the 
 violent movements of the fluid on which it rested. And, 
 as air has been compressed by art so as to be twice 
 as dense as water, in which case, if such air and 
 water could be contained in a strong glass vessel, the 
 air would be seen to take the lowest place, and the wa- 
 ter to float above and upon it ; and, as we know not yet the 
 degree of density to which air may be compressed, and M. 
 Amontons calculated, that, its density increasing as it ap- 
 proached the centre in the same proportion as above the 
 surface, it would, at the depth of — leagues, be heavier 
 than gold, possibly the dense fluid occupying the internal 
 parts of the globe might be air compressed. And as the 
 force of expansion in dense air when heated, is in proportion 
 to its density ; this central air might afford another agent to 
 move the surface, as well as be of use in keeping alive 
 the central fires ; though, as you observe, the sudden rare- 
 faction of water coming into contact with those fires, may 
 
298 ESSAYS. 
 
 be an agent sufficiently strong for that purpose, when act- 
 ing between the incumbent earth and the fluid on which it 
 rests. 
 
 If one might indulge imagination in supposing how such a 
 globe was formed, I should conceive that all the elements in 
 separate particles, being originally mixed in confusion, and 
 occupying a great, space, they would (as soon as the Almigh- 
 ty fiat ordained gravity, or the mutual attraction of certain 
 parts, o*nd the mutual repulsion of other parts, to exist) all 
 move towards their common centre : that the air being a 
 fluid whose parts repel each other, though drawn to the 
 common centre by their g null be densest towards 
 
 the centre, and rarer as more remote ; consequently, all bo- 
 dies, lighter than the central parts of that air, and immersed 
 in it, would recede from the centre, and rise till they arrive 
 at that region of the air, which was of the same specific gra- 
 vity with themselves, where they would rest; while other 
 matter mixed with the lighter air, would descend, and the 
 two, meeting, would form the shell of the first earth, leav- 
 ing the upper atmosphere nearly clear. The original move- 
 ment of the parts towards their common centre, would form 
 a whirl there ; which would continue in the turning 
 of the new-formed globe upon its axis, and the great- 
 est diameter of the shell would be in its equator. If by 
 any accident afterwards the axis should be changed, the 
 dense internal fluid, by altering its form, must burst the 
 shell, and throw all its substance into the confusion in which 
 we find it. I will not trouble you at present with my fan- 
 cies concerning the manner of forming the rest of our S3 r s- 
 tem. Superior beings smile on our theories, and at our pre- 
 sumption in making them. I will just mention that your 
 observation of the ferruginous nature of the lava, which is 
 thrown out from the depths of our volcanoes gave me great 
 pleasure. It has long been a supposition of mine, that the 
 iron contained in the substance of the globe has made it ca- 
 pable of becoming, as it is, a great magnet; that the fluid of 
 magnetism exists perhaps in all space ; so that there is a 
 magnetical North and South of the Universe, as well as of 
 this globe ; and that if it were possible for a man to fly 
 from star to star, he might govern his course by 
 the compass; that it was by the power of this general mag- 
 netism this globe became a particular magnet. In soft or 
 
ESSAYS. 293 
 
 hot iron the fluid of magnetism is naturally diffused equally ; 
 when within the influence of a magnet, it is drawn to one end 
 of the iron, and made denser there and rarer at the other. 
 While the iron continues soft and hot, it is only a temporary 
 magnet : if it cools or grows hard in that situation, it be- 
 comes a permanent one, the magnetic fluid not easily resum- 
 ing its equilibrium. Perhaps it may he owing to the perma- 
 nent magnetism of this globe which it had not at first, that 
 its axis is at present kept parallel to itself, and not liable 
 to the changes it formerly suffered, which occasioned 
 the rupture of its shell, the submersions and emersions of its 
 lands, and the confusion of its seasons. The present polar 
 and equatorial diameters differing from each other near ten 
 leagues, it is easy to conceive, in case some power should 
 shift the axis gradually, and place it in the present equator, 
 and make the new equator pass through the present poles, 
 what a sinking of the waters would happen in the present 
 equatorial regions, and what a rising in the present polar re- 
 gions ; so that vast tracts would be discovered that now are 
 under water, and others covered that now are dry, the wa- 
 ter rising and sinking in the different extremes near five 
 leagues! Such an operation as this possibly occasioned 
 much of Europe, and, among the rest, of this mountain of 
 Passy, on which I live, and which is composed of lime- 
 stone, rock, and sea shells, to be abandoned by the sea, 
 and to change its ancient climate, which seems to have 
 been a hot one. The globe being now become a perfect 
 magnet, we are perhaps safe from any future change of its 
 axis. But we are still subject to the accidents on the sur- 
 face, which are occasioned by a wave in the internal pon- 
 derous fluid : and such a wave is produced by the sudden 
 violent explosion you mention, happening from the junc- 
 tion of water and fire under the earth, which not only lifts 
 the incumbent earth that is over the explosion, but impress- 
 ing with the same force the fluid under it, creates a 
 wave that may run a thousand leagues, lifting, and thereby 
 shaking successively, all the countiies under which it pass- 
 es. I know not whether I have expressed myself so clear • 
 ly, as not to get out of your sight in these reveries. If they 
 occasion any new inquiries, and produce a better hypothe- 
 sis, they will not be quite useless. You see I have given a 
 loose to imagination, but I approve much more your method 
 
300 ESSAYS. 
 
 of philosophising, which proceeds upon actual observation, 
 makes a collection of facts, and concludes no farther than 
 those facts will warrant. In my present circumstances, 
 that mode of studying the r.ature of the globe is out of my 
 power, and therefore 1 have permitted myself to wander a 
 little in the wilds of fancy. With great esteem, I have the 
 honor to be, 
 
 Sir, &c. 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 P. S. I have heard that chemists can by their art decom- 
 pose stone and wood, extracting a considerable quantity of 
 water from the one, and air from the other. It seems nat- 
 ural to conclude from this, that water and air were ingre- 
 dients in their original composition : for men cannot make 
 new matter of any kind. In the same manner do we not 
 suppose, that when we consume combustibles of all kinds, 
 and produce heat or light, we do not create that heat or 
 light, we only decompose a substance which received it ori- 
 ginally ete a part of its composition? Heat may thus be 
 considered as originally in a fluid state ; but, attracted by 
 organized bodies in their grcrwth, becomes a part of the solid. 
 Besides this, I can conceive that, in the first assemblage of 
 the particles of which this earth is composed, each brought 
 its portion of the loose heat that had been connected with 
 it, and the whole when pressed together, produced the in- 
 ternal fire which still subsists. 
 
 LOOSE THOUGHTS ON THE UNIVERSAL 
 FLUID, ETC. 
 
 Passy, June 25, 1784. 
 
 Universal space, as far as we know of it, seems to be 
 filled with a subtile fluid, whose motion, or vibration, is 
 called light. 
 
 This fluid may possibly be the same with that which, be- 
 ing attracted by and entering into other more solid matter, 
 dilates the substance, by separating the constituent particles, 
 and so rendering some solids fluid, and maintaining the 
 
ESSAYS. 301 
 
 fluidity of others : of which fluid when our bodies are to- 
 tally deprived, they are said to be frozen ; when they have 
 a proper quantity, they are in health, and fit to per- 
 form all their functions; it is then called natural heat: 
 when too much, it is called fever; and when forced into 
 the body in too great a quantity from without, it gives pain 
 by separating and destroying the flesh, and is then called 
 burning ; and the fluid so entering and acting is called fire. 
 
 While organized bodies, animal or vegetable, are aug- 
 menting in growth, or are supplying their continual waste, 
 is not this done by attracting and consolidating this fluid call- 
 ed fire, so as to form of it a part of their substance? and is 
 it not a separation of the parts of such substance, which, 
 dissolving its solid state, sets that subtile fluid at liberty, 
 when it again makes its appearance as fire ? 
 
 For the power of man relative to matter seems limited to 
 the dividing it, or mixing the various kinds of it, or chang- 
 ing its form and appearance by different compositions of it ; 
 but does not extend to the making or creating of new mat- 
 ter, or annihilating the old : thus, if fire be an original ele- 
 ment, or kind of matter, its quantity is fixed and permanent 
 in the world. We cannot destroy any part of it, or make 
 addition to it ; we can only separate it from that which con- 
 fines it, and so set it at liberty, as when we put wood in a 
 situation to be burnt : or transfer it from one solid to anoth- 
 er, as when we make lime by burning stone, a part of the 
 fire dislodged from the wood being left in the stone. May 
 not this fluid, when at liberty, be capable of penetrating and 
 entering into all bodies, organized or not ; quitting easily in 
 totality those not organized; and quitting easily in part 
 those which are ; the part assumed and fixed remaining till 
 the body is dissolved 1 
 
 Is it not this fluid which keeps asunder the particles of air, 
 permitting them to approach, or separating them more, in 
 proportion as its quantity is diminished or augmented ? Is 
 it not the greater gravity of the particles of air which forces 
 the particles of this fluid to mount with the matters to which 
 it is attached, as smoke or vapor 1 ? 
 
 Does it not seem to have a great affinity with water, since 
 it will quit a solid to unite with that fluid, and go off with 
 it in vapor, leaving the solid cold to the touch, and the de- 
 gree measurable by the thermometer? 
 26 
 
302 ESSAYS. 
 
 The vapor rises attached to this fluid ; but at a certain 
 height they scparatf, and the vapor descends in rain, re- 
 taining but little of it, in snow or hail less. What be- 
 comes of that fluid I Does it rise above our atmosphere, 
 and mix equally with the universal mass- of the same kind? 
 Or does a spherical stratum of it, denser or less mixed with 
 air, attracted by this globe, and repelled or pushed up only 
 to a certain height from its surface, by the greater weight of 
 air remain there, surrounding the globe, and proceeding with 
 it round the sun ? 
 
 In such case, as there may be a continuity or communica- 
 tion of this fluid through the air quite down to the earth, is 
 it not by the vibrations given to it by the sun that light ap- 
 pears to us ; and may it not be, that every one of the infi- 
 nitely small vibrations, striking common matter with a cer- 
 tain force, enter its substance, are held there by attrac- 
 tion, and augmented by succeeding vibrations, till the mat- 
 ter has received as much as their force can drive into it? 
 
 Is it not thus that the surface of this globe is continu- 
 ally heated by such repeated vibrations in the day, and 
 cooled by the escape of the heat when those vibrations are dis- 
 continued in the night, or intercepted and reflected by clouds? 
 
 Is it not thus that fire is amassed, and makes the greatest 
 part of the substance of combustible bodies? 
 
 Perhaps when this globe was first formed, ancHts origi- 
 nal particles took their place at certain distances from the 
 centre, in proportion to their greater or less gravity, the fluid 
 fire, attracted towards that centre, might in great part be 
 obliged, as lightest, to take place above the rest, and thus 
 form the sphere of fire above s-upposed, which would 
 afterwards be continually diminishing by the substance it 
 afforded to organized bodies ; and the quantity restored to 
 it again by the burning or other separating of the parts of 
 those bodies. 
 
 Is not the natural heat of animals thus produced, by sep- 
 arating in digestion the parts of food, and setting their fire 
 at liberty ? 
 
 Is it not this sphere of fire which kindles the wandering 
 globes that sometimes pass through it in our course round 
 the sun, have their surface kindled by it, and burst when 
 their included air is greatly ratified by the heat on theur 
 burning surfaces ? 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself, - - - 7 
 Continuation of his Life by Dr. Stuber, - - - - 102 
 Extracts from his Will, --------- 159 
 
 ESSAYS. 
 On Early Marriages, ----------169 
 
 On the Death of his brother, Mr. John Franklin, - - 171 
 To the late Dr. Mather, of Boston, ------ ib. 
 
 The Whistle, a true story, written to his nephew, - - 173 
 A Petition of the Left Hand, -------- 175 
 
 The Handsome and Deformed Leg, - - - - - -176 
 
 Conversation of a Company of Ephemerae ; with the 
 Soliloquy of one advanced in age, ----- 178 
 
 Morals of Chess, 180 
 
 The Art of procuring Pleasant Dreams, - - - - 183 
 
 Advice to a Young Tradesman, ------- 188 
 
 Necessary Hints to those who would be Rich, - - 190 
 The Way to make Money plenty in every Man's 
 
 Pock/5t, 191 
 
 An Economical Project, --------- 192 
 
 Sketch of an English School, --------196 
 
 On modern Innovations in the English Language, and 
 
 in Printing, ---- -__ 202 
 
 An Account of the highest Court of Judicature in Penn- 
 sylvania, viz* the Court of the Press, - - - - 207 
 
 Paper. A Poem, ----------- 211 
 
 On the Art of Swimming, ---------213 
 
 New Mode of Bathing, --------- 215 
 
 Observations on the generally prevailing Doctrines of 
 Life and Death, ----------- 216 
 
 Precautions to be used by those who are about to un- 
 dertake a Sea Voyage, - - ----- 218 
 
 On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry^ - - - - 223 
 
 303 
 
304 CONTENTS. 
 
 On the Slave Trade, 227 
 
 Observations on War, ---------- 230 
 
 On the Impress of Seamen, -------- 231 
 
 On the Criminal Laws and the Practice of Privateer- 
 ing, 235 
 
 Remarks concerning the Savages of North Amer- 
 ica, " 241 
 
 To Mr. Dubourg concerning the Dissensions between 
 England and America, --------- 247 
 
 A Comparison of the Conduct of the Ancient Jews 
 and of the Antifederalists in the United States of 
 America, ------------- 248 
 
 Nautical Affairs, -----.------ 252 
 
 Positions to be examined, --------- 255 
 
 Preliminary Address to the Pennsylvania Almanac, 
 entitled, u Poor Richard's Almanac for the Year 
 
 1758," 257 
 
 The Internal State of America ; being a true descrip- 
 tion of the Interest and Policy of that vast Conti- 
 nent, 2fiG 
 
 Information to those who would remove to America, - 271 
 Thoughts on commercial subjects, ------ 27!) 
 
 American White-washing, -------- 283 
 
 Answer to the above, ---------- 289 
 
 Final Speech of Dr. Franklin in the late Federal 
 Convention, ------------ 293 
 
 Preference of Bows and Arrows in War to Fire-arms 2!)5 
 
 On the Theory of the Earth, 21)7 
 
 Loose Thoughts on a Universal Fluid, ----- 300 
 
 
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