UC-NRLF 
 
 B 2 fl35 723 
 
it/ 
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Professor 
 George Stewart 
 


 
sttkMM0 n Day. 
 
 374 Pearl Street, 
 183f> 
 
92*1 
 
<_ 
 
 WORKS 
 
 OP 
 
 DR. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 
 CONSISTING OP 
 
 ESSAYS, 
 
 HUMOUROUS, MORAL, AND LITERARY, 
 
 WITH 
 HIS LIFE, 
 
 WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. 
 
 NEW-YORK . 
 MAHLON DAY & CO. 
 
 374 Pearl StraoU 
 
1OAN STACK 
 
 GIFT 
 
PREFACE 
 
 BY THE EDITOR. 
 
 AS biography is a species of history which record 
 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 nation on the globe has, 
 at one period or other, produced distinguished indi 
 viduals in various stations of life. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, tho President of the United States 
 of America, in his " Notes on Virginia," thus speaks 
 in answer to the assertion of the Abbe Raynai, tnat 
 44 America has not yet produced one good poet, one 
 able mathematician, one ma,i of genius, in A single 
 art, or a single science." " When we shall hiveexist- 
 isted as a nation," says Mr. J. " as long as the Greeks 
 did before they produced a Homer, the Romans a 
 Virgil, the French a Racine and Voltaire, the English 
 a Shakespea-re and Milton, should this reproach be 
 still true, we will inquire fom what unfriendly causes 
 it has proceeded, that the other countries of Europe 
 and quarters of the earth shall not have inscribed any 
 name in the roll of poets. In war we nave produced 
 a Washington, whose memory will be adored whil 
 liberty shall have votaries ; whose name will triumph 
 over time, and will in future ages assume its just 
 station among the most celebrated worthies of tiia 
 world, when that wretched philosophy shall be for 
 gotten which would arrange him among the degene 
 racies of nature. In physics, we have produced a 
 FRANKLIN, than whom no one of the present age 1ms 
 
 819 
 
 i 
 
7i PREFACE. 
 
 made raore important discoveries, nor has enriched 
 philosophy with more, or more ingenious solutions of 
 the phenomena of nature. We have supposed Mr. 
 Rittenhouse second to no astronomer living ; that in 
 genius he must be the first, because he is self- 
 taught," &c. 
 
 In philosophy, England can boast of a Bacon 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 adduce of -his tran 
 scendent abilities ; and America claims the enlight 
 ened FRANKLIN, a man who has not left his equal be 
 hind him, and whose Life and Writings are the sub 
 ject of the following sheets. 
 
 To say more in this place of our Author, would be 
 anticipating what is hereafter mentioned: it will 
 therefore only be necessary to add, that due atten 
 tion has been paid in the selection of such of his pro 
 ductions as may be adapted to general perusal. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 LIFE of Dr. Franklin, as written by Himself - 9 
 
 Continuation of his Life by Dr. Stuber 88 
 
 Extracts from his Will - - - -/ 130 
 
 On Early Marriages 138 
 
 On the Death of his Brother, Mr. John Frank 
 lin 140 
 
 To the late Dr. Mather, of Boston - - 141 
 The Whistle, a true Story, written to his Ne 
 phew 143 
 
 A Petition of the Left Hand .... 144 
 
 The Handsome and Deformed Leg 146 
 Conversation of a Company ofEpIiemcrae; with 
 
 the Soliloquy of one advanced in Age 148 
 
 Morals of Chess - - - - - 150 
 
 The Art of procuring Pleasant Dreams - 154 
 
 Advice to a Young Tradesman - - - 159 
 
 Necessary Hints to those vhat would be Rich - 161 
 The Way to make Money plenty in every 
 
 Man s Pocket. 162 
 
 An Economical Project .... 163 
 
 Sketch of an Engligh School .... 168 
 On modern Innovations in the English Lan 
 guage and in Printing - - - -174 
 An Account of the highest Court of Judicature 
 
 in Pennsylvania, viz. the Court of the Press 180 
 
 Paper: a Poem - . -- . . - 184 
 
 On the Art of Swimming .... 186 
 
 New Mode of Bathing 188 
 
 Observations on the generally-prevailing Doc 
 trines of Life and Death ... - 190 
 Precautions to be used by those who are about 
 
 to undertake a Sea Voyage ... 192 
 
 On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry - - 197 
 
 On the Slave Tr?de - - - - / - 201 
 
 Observafe Vw 205 
 
vih CONTENTS 
 
 On the Impress of Seamen .... 206 
 On the Criminal Laws, and the Practice of 
 
 Privateering - - - - - 210 
 Remarks concerning the Savages of North 
 
 America 217 
 
 To Mr. Dubourg, concerning the Dissentions 
 
 between England and America . . 224 
 Comparison of the Conduct of the Ancient 
 Jews, and of tne Antifederalists in the 
 United States of America - - - 225 
 
 Nautical Affairs 229 
 
 Positions to be examined .... 233 
 Preliminary Address to the Pennsylvania Al 
 manack, entitled " Poor Richard s Alma 
 nack, for the year 1758" - 236 
 The Internal State of America ; being a true 
 Description of the Interest and Policy of 
 that vast Continent .... 246 
 Information to those who would remove to 
 
 America 252 
 
 Thoughts on Commercial Subjects - - 261 
 American White-washing - - - 267 
 
 Answer to the Above 274 
 
 Final Speech of Dr. Franklin in the late Fede 
 ral Convention ..... 279 
 Preference of Bows and Arrows in War to 
 
 Fire-Arms -.-- 281 
 OP the Theory of the Earth 283 
 
 Loose Thoughts on an Universal Fluid - 287 
 
LIFE 
 
 or 
 
 DR. FRANKLIN. 
 
 MV DEAR SON, 
 
 1 HAVE amused myself with collecting some bttle 
 anecdotes of my family. You may remember the 
 inquiries I made, when you were with me in Eng 
 land, among such of my relations as were then liv- 
 
 flatter myself will afford the same pleasure to yon as 
 to me. I shall relate them upon paper: it will he an 
 agreeable employment of a week s uninterrupted 
 leisure, which I promise myself during my present 
 retirement in the country. There are also other mo 
 tives which induce me to the undertaking. From the 
 bosom of poverty and obscurity, in wruch I drew my 
 first breath, and spent my earliest years, I have raised 
 myself to a state of opulence, and to some degree of 
 celebrity in the world. A constant good fortune has 
 attended me through every period of life to my pres 
 ent advanced age ; and my descendants niay be de 
 sirous of learning what were the means of which I 
 made use, and which, thanks to the assisting hand of 
 Providence, have proved so eminently successful. 
 They may also, should they ever be placed in a p- 
 milar situation, derive some advantage from my nar< 
 rative. 
 
 When I reflect, as 1 frequently do, upon the felicity 
 I hare enjoyed, I sometimes say to myself, that were 
 the offer made true I would engage to run again, from 
 
fO LIFE Of 
 
 beginning to end, the same career of life. AH 
 would ask, should be the privilege of an author, to 
 correct, in a second edition, certain errors of the first. 
 I could wish, likewise, if it were in my power, to 
 change some trivial incidents and events ibr others 
 more favourable. Were this, however, denied me, 
 still would I not decline the offer. But since a re 
 petition of life cannot take place, there is nothing 
 which, in my opinion, so nearly resembles it, as to 
 call to mind all its circumstances, and, to reiidei 
 their reciembrance more durable, commit them to 
 writing. By thus emptying myself, I shall yield tc 
 the inclination, so natural in old men, to talk of 
 themselves and their exploits, and may freely follow 
 my bunt, without being tiresome to those who, from 
 respect to my age, might think themselves obliged to 
 listen to me; as they will be at liberty to read me 01 
 not as they please. In fine and I may as well avow 
 it, since nobody would believe me were I to deny it 
 1 shall, perhaps, by this employment, gratify my vani 
 ty. Scarcely, indeed, have I ever heard or read the 
 introductory phrase, " / may say witiiout vanity," but 
 some striking and characteristic instance of vanity 
 has immediately followed. The generality of men 
 nate vanity in others, however strongly they may be 
 tinctured with it themselves : for myself; I pay obei 
 sance to it whereve/ I meet with it, persuaded that it 
 is advantageous, as well to the individual whom it 
 governs, as to those who are within the sphere of its 
 influence. Of consequence, it would, in many cases, 
 not be wholly absurd, that a man should count his 
 vanity among the other sweets of life, and give thanks 
 :o Providence for the blessing. 
 
 And here let me with all humility acknowledge 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 I have employed, 
 and that has crowned them with success. My faith, 
 in this respect, leads me to hope, though I cannot 
 count upon it, that the Divine goodness will still be 
 eiercised towards me, either by prolonging the dura* 
 toon of my happiness to the close of life, or by giving 
 ins fortitude to support any melancholy reverse, which 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 11 
 
 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 sub- 
 ifirvient to our benefit. 
 
 One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of collect 
 ing anecdutes of our family, gave me some notes, 
 from which 1 have derived many particulars respect 
 ing our ancestors. From these I learn, that they had 
 lived hi the same village (Eaton, in Northampton 
 shire,) upon a freehold of about thirty acres, for the 
 space at least of three hundred years. How long 
 they had resided there, prior to that period, my uiicle 
 had been unable to discover; probably ever since the 
 institution of surnames, when they took the appella 
 tion of Franklin, which had formerly been the name 
 of a particular order of individuals.* 
 
 This petty estate would not have sufficed for their 
 Whbsistence, had they not added the trade of biack- 
 
 * As a proof that Franklin was anciently the common 
 name of an order or rank in Kngland, see Judge Fortesque, 
 /) laudibus Ifgum .finglia, written about the year 1412, in 
 which is the following passage, to show that good juries 
 might easily be formed in any part of Eng.aud : 
 
 11 Regie etinm ilia, ita respersa refertaque esipossessoribui 
 terrarum et agrorum, quod in ea villula tarn parva reperiri 
 Don poterit, in qua non est wi/e*, armir, vel patex-faniilian, 
 qualii ibidemyVan/c/m vulgaritur nuncupatur, magnis ditatui 
 possessicnibua, nee non libere tenenlesetalii vaiecti plurimi, 
 uis patrimoniis sufficientes, &d faciendum jura tarn, jo forma 
 pnenotata." 
 
 Moreover, the lame country is so filled and replenished 
 with landed rnenne, that therein so small a thorpe cannot ba 
 found wherein dwelleth not a knight, an enquire, or such a 
 householder as is there commonly called a franklin, en 
 riched vilh great possessions ; and also other freeholders and 
 many yeomen, able for their livelihood to make a jury in 
 form aforementioned." Old Trantlation. 
 
 Chaucer tnn m calls his country-gentleman & franklin ; and, 
 after describing his good housekeeping, thus characterize* 
 bun : 
 
 This worthy franklin bore a purse of silk 
 
 Kii d to his girdle, white as morning milk; 
 
 Knight of the shire, first justice t th* assize, 
 
 To help the poor, the doubtful to advise. 
 
 In all employments, generous, just, he 
 
 Retwwn d for courtasy. by all bbr <L 
 1 * 
 
12 LIFE OF 
 
 smith, which was perpetuated in the family down t5 
 my uncle s time, the eldest son having been uniform 
 ly brought up to this employment : a custom which 
 both he anci my father observed with respect to their 
 *ldest sons. 
 
 In the researches I made at Eaton, I found no ac 
 count of their births, marriages, and deaths, earlier 
 than the year 1555 ; the parish register not extending 
 farther back than that period. This register informed 
 me, that I was the youngest son of the youngest branch 
 m the family, counting five generations. My grand 
 father, Thomas, was born in "i598> lived at Eaton till 
 \ie was too old to continue his trade, when he retired 
 to Banbury, in Oxfordshire, where his son John, who 
 was a dier, resided, and with whom my father was 
 apprenticed. He died, and was buried there: we 
 sow his monument in 1758. His eldest son lived in 
 the family house at Eaton, which he bequeathed, with 
 the laiid belonging to it, to his only daughter ; who, 
 in concert with her husband, Mr. Fisher, of Welling- 
 borough, afterwards sold it to Mr. Estead, the present 
 proprietor. *-- - 
 
 My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thotnasj 
 John, Benjamin, and Josias. I shall give you such 
 particulars of them as my memory will furnish, not 
 having my papers here, iix which you will find a more 
 minute account, if they are not lost during my ab 
 sence. & 
 
 Thomas had learned the trade of a blacksrnftfl 
 under his father; but, possessing a good natuial un 
 derstanding, be improved it by study, at the solicita 
 tion 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 
 cultivate their minds. Thomas thus rendered him 
 self competent to the functions of a country attorney; 
 soon became ?n essentiO 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 the 
 ^wn of Northampton. A variety of remarkable in- 
 "Mei\ is were told us of him at Eaton. After enjo^ icg 
 fciie etleein and patronage of Lord Halifax, he dieti 
 January 6, 1702, precisely four years before I was 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 13 
 
 born. The recital that was made us of his life and 
 character, by some aged persons of the village, struck 
 you, I remember, as extraordinary, from its analogy 
 to what you knew of myself. " Had he died," said 
 you, "just four years later, one might have supposed 
 a transmigration of souls." 
 
 John, to the best of my belief, was brought up to 
 the trade of a wool-dier. 
 
 Benjamin served his apprenticeship in London to 
 A silk-dier. He was an industrious man : I remem 
 ber him well ; for, while I was a-cluld, he joined my 
 father at Boston, and lived for some years in the house 
 with us. A particular affection had always subsisted 
 letween my father and him; and 1 was his god-son. 
 He arrived to a great age. He left behind him two 
 quarto volumes of poems in manuscript, consistir^ of 
 little fugitive pieces addressed to his friends. He had 
 invented a short-hand, which he taught me, but, liay- 
 ing never made use of it, I have now forgotten it- 
 He was a man of piety, and a constant attendant on 
 the best preachers, whose sermons he took a pleasure 
 in writing down according to the expeditory method 
 he had devised. Many volumes were thus collected 
 by him. He was also extremely fend of politics ; too 
 much so, perhaps, for his situation. I lately found 
 in London a collection which he had made of all the 
 principal pamphlets relative to public affairs, from 
 the year 1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, 
 as appears by the series of numbers ; but there siiil 
 remain eight in folio, and twenty-four in quarto and 
 >ctavo. The collection had fallen into the hands of 
 a second-hand bookseller, who, knowing me by hav- 
 >ng sold me some books, brought it to me. My uncle, 
 k seems, had left it behind on his departure for Ameri 
 ca, about fifty years ago. I found various notes of 
 his writing in the margins. His grandson, Samuel, is 
 aow living at Boston. 
 
 Our humble family had early embraced the Refor 
 mation. They remained faithfully attached during 
 the reign of Queen Mary, when they were in danger 
 of being molested on account of their zeal against po 
 pery. Tfy had an English Bible, and, to conceal 
 it lie raoro securely ,*ehey conceived the project of 
 
I LIFE OF 
 
 fastening it, open, with pack-threads across the leaves, 
 on the inside of the lid of the close-stooL When my 
 great-grandfather wished to read to his family, lie re- 
 versed the lid of the close-stool upon his knees, and 
 passed the leaves from one side to the other, wh>ch 
 were held down on each by the pack-thread. Om 
 of the children was stationed at the door, to give no 
 tice if he saw the proctor (an officer of the spiritual 
 court) make his appearance: in that case, the lid wai 
 restored to its lace ; with the Bible concealed undei 
 it as before, f had this anecdote from my uncle Ben 
 jamin. 
 
 The whole family preserved its attachment to the 
 Church of England till towards the close of the reign 
 of Charles II. when certain ministers, who had been 
 rejected as nonconformists, having held conventicles 
 in Northamptonshire, they vvcie joined by Benjamin 
 and Josias, who adhered to them ever after. The rest 
 of the family continued in the episcopal church. 
 
 My father, Josias, married early in life. He went, 
 with his wife and three children, to New-England, 
 about the year 1682. Couventlcles being at that time 
 prohibited by law, and frequently disturbed, some 
 considerable persons of his acquaintance determined 
 to go to America, where they hoped to enjoy the free 
 exercise cf their religion, and my father was prevailed 
 on to accompany them. 
 
 My father had also, by the same wife, four children 
 born in America, and ten others by a second wife, 
 making in all seventeen. 1 remember to have seen 
 thirteen seated together at his table, who all arrived 
 at years of maturity, and were married. I was the 
 last of the sons, and the youngest child, excepting 
 two daughters. I was born at Boston, in New-Eng 
 land. My mother, the second wile, was Abiah Fol- 
 ger, daughter of Peter Folgor, one of the first colonists 
 of New England, of whom Cotton Mather makes hon 
 ourable mention, in his Ecclesiastical History of that 
 province, as " a pious and learned Englishman? if 1 
 rightly recollect his expression. I have been told of 
 nis having written a variety of little piece^but there 
 appears to be only one in print, which Whet with 
 many years ago. It was published in the year 1675, 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. * IS 
 
 and is in familiar verse, agreeably to the taste of the 
 limes and the country. The author addresses himself 
 U> die governors for the time being, speaks for liberty of 
 conscience, and in favour of the anabaptists, quakers, 
 and other sectaries, who had suffered persecution. 
 To this persecution he attribute? the wars with the 
 natives, and other calamities which afflicted the coun 
 try, regarding them as the judgments of God in pun 
 ishment of so odious an offence, and he exhorts tho 
 government to the repeal of laws so contrary to 
 i iiarity. 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 words of the two firsl; the sense of which 
 was, that his censures were dictated by benevolence, 
 and that, of consequence, he wished to be known as 
 the author; because, said he, 1 hate from my very 
 oul dissimulation. 
 
 From Sherburn,* where I dwell, 
 
 I therefore put my name, 
 Your friend, who means you well, 
 
 PETER FOLGER. 
 
 My brothers were all put apprentices to different 
 trades. With respect to myself, I was sent, at the 
 age of eight years, to a grammar-school. My father 
 destined me for the church, and already regarded 
 me as the chaplain of my family. The promptitude 
 with which, from my infancy, 1 had learned to read, 
 for I do not remember to have been ever without this 
 acquirement, and the encouragement of his friends, 
 who assured him that 1 should one day certainly be 
 come a man of letters, confirmed him in this design. 
 My uncle Benjamin approved also of the scheme, and 
 promised to give me all his volumes of seimons, writ 
 ten, as I have said, in the short-hand* of his {inven 
 tion, if 1 would take the pains to learn it. 
 
 I remained, however, scarcely a year at the gram 
 mar-school, although, in this short interval, I had risen 
 from the middle to the head of my class, from thenc 
 
 Tottn in the ialand of Nan tucket. 
 
16 LIFE OF 
 
 to the class immediately above, and was to pass, at 
 the end of the year, to the one next in order. But 
 my father, burdened with a numerous family, found 
 that he was incapable, without subjecting himself to 
 difficulties, of providing for the expepses of a colie- 
 giate education ; and considering, besides, as I hearo 
 him say to his friends, that persons so educated were 
 often poorly provided for, he renounced his first inten 
 tions, took me from the grammar-school, and sent mfl 
 to a school for writing and arithmetic, kept by a Mu 
 George JBrownwell, who was a skilful master, and 
 succeeded very well in his profession by employing, 
 gentle means only, and such as were calculated to 
 encourage his scholars. Under him, I soon acquired 
 an excellent hand; but I failed hi arithmetic, and 
 made therein no sort of progress. 
 
 At ten 3 T e3.rs of age, I was called home to assist m* 
 father in his< occupation, which was that of soap-boile 
 and tallow-chandler; a business to which ne had 
 served no apprenticeship, but which he embraced oa 
 his arrival in New England, because he found his own, 
 that of dier, in too little request to enable him to 
 maintain his family. I was accord "uigly employed fei 
 cutting the wicks, filling the moulds, taking care of 
 the shop, carrying messages, &c. 
 
 This business displeased me, and I felt a strong 
 inclination for a sea life ; but my father set his face 
 against it. The vicinity of the water, howevrr, gave 
 me frequent opportunities of venturing mysrlf both 
 upon and within it, and I soon acquired the art of 
 swimming and of managing a boat. When embark 
 ed with other children, the helm was commonly de 
 puted to me, particularly on difficult occasions ; and p 
 in every other project, I was almost always the lead 
 er of the troop, whom I sometimes involved in em 
 barrassments. I shall give an instance of this, which 
 demonstrates an early disposition of mind for public 
 enterprises, though the one in question was not con 
 ducted 1 by justice. 
 
 The mill-pond was terminated on one s\c*.e by a 
 march, upon the borders of which we were accus 
 tomed to take our stand, at high water, to a yje for 
 small fish. By dint of walking, we had c< r/rerted 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 1? 
 
 perfect quagmire. My proposal was to erect a wharf 
 tfiat should afford us firm footing; and I pointed out 
 to my companions a large heap of stones, intended 
 for the building a new house near the marsh, and 
 which were well adapted for our purpose. Accoii- 
 ingly, when the workmen retired m the evening, 1 
 assembled a number of my play-fellows, and by la 
 bouring diligently, like ants, sometimes four of us uni 
 ting our strength to carry a single stone, we removed 
 hem ail, and constructed our little quay. The work 
 men 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; and many of us underwent 
 correction on the part of our parents ; and though I 
 Strenuously defended the utility f the work, my fa 
 ther at length convinced me, that nothing which was 
 not strictly honest could be useful. 
 
 It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you to know 
 what sort of a man my father was. He had an ex 
 cellent constitution, was of a middle size, but well 
 made and strong, and extremely active in whatever 
 he undertook, lie designed with a degree of neatness, 
 and knew a little of music. His voice was sonorous 
 and agreeable; so that when he sang a psalm or 
 hymn, with the accompaniment of his violin, as was 
 his frequent practice in an evening, when the labours 
 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 un 
 derstanding and solid judgment, in matters of pru 
 dence, both in public and private life. In the former, 
 indeed, he never engaged, because his numerous fami- 
 ry, and the mediocrity of his fortune, kept him unre 
 mittingly employed in the duties of his profession. 
 But I well remember, that the leading men of the 
 place used frequently to come and ask his advice re 
 specting the affairs of the town, or of the church to 
 which he belonged, and that they paid much defer- 
 tuce to his opinion. Individuals were also in the 
 
18 LIFE OF 
 
 iabit of consulting him in their private affairs, ami he 
 <vas often chosen arbiter between contending parties. 
 
 He was fond of having at his table, as often as 
 possible, some friends or well-informed neighbours, 
 :a-pable of rational conversation, and he was always 
 careful to introduce useful or ingenious topics of dis 
 course, which might tend to form the minds of his 
 children. By this means he early attracted our at 
 tention to what was just, prudent, and beneficial in 
 he conduct of life. Ke never talked of the meat! 
 which appeared upon the taMe, never discussed 
 whether they were weil or ill-dressed, of a good or 
 bad flavour, high-seasoned or otherwise, preferable 
 or inferior to this or that dish of a similar kind. 
 Thus accustomed, from my infancy, to the utmost in 
 attention as to these objects, I have been perfectly re 
 gardless of what kind of food was before me ; and 1 
 pay so little attention to it even now, that it would be 
 a hard matter for me to recollect, a few hours after 1 
 had dined, of what my dinner had consisted. When 
 travelling, I have particularly experienced the advan 
 tage of this habit ; ibr U has often happened to me to 
 be in company with persons, who, having a moro 
 delicate, because a more exercised taste, have- suffer 
 ed in many cases considerable iuc< mvenience ; while, 
 as to myself, I have had nothing to desire. 
 
 My mother was likewise possessed of an excellent 
 constitution. She suckled all her ten children, and 1 
 never nea^d either her or my father complain of any 
 other disorder than that of which they died : my fa 
 Itier at. the agj of eighty-seven, and rny mother a* 
 eighty-five. They are buried together at Boston, 
 where, a few years ago, I placed a marble over their 
 gave, with this inscription : 
 
 " Here lie 
 
 * JOSJAS FRANKLIN and ABIAH his wife : They lived 
 " together with reciprocal affection for fifty-nWyears: 
 ** and without private fortune, without lucrative em 
 * ployment, by assiduous labour and honest industry 
 * decently supported a numerous family, and educa 
 " ted with success, thirteen children, and seven grand 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 19 
 
 -* children. Lei this example, reader, encourage the* 
 " 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 fiiial duty, 
 
 44 consecrates this stone to 
 
 * their memory." 
 
 * I perceive, by my rambling digressions, thai I an 
 growing old. But we do not dress for a private com 
 pany as for a formal balL This deserves, perhaps, 
 the name of negligence. 
 
 To return. I thus continued employed in my fa 
 therms trade for the space of two years ; that is to say, 
 till I arrived at twelve years of age. About this 
 time my brother John, who had served his appren 
 ticeship hi London, having quitted my father, and 
 being married and settled in business on his own 
 account at Rhode Island, I was destined, to all ap- 
 peaxance, to supply his place, and be a candle-maker 
 all my life ; but my dislike of this occupation con 
 tinuing, my father was apprehensive, that, if a more 
 agreeable.ione were not offered me, I might play the 
 truant and escape to sea ; as, to his extreme mortifi 
 cation, my brotuer Josias had done. H therefore 
 took me sometimes to see masons, coopers, braziers, 
 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, derived no small nleasure from seeing 
 Wilful workmen handle Sheir toois ; and it has proved 
 cf considerable benefit, to have acquired thereby 
 sufficient knowledge to be able to make little tilings 
 for myself, when I have had no mechanic at hand, 
 and to construct small machines for rny experiment*, 
 while the idea I have conceived has been fresh and 
 strongly impressed on my imagination. 
 
 My father at length decided that 1 should be a cut 
 let, and I was placed for some days upon trial with 
 aiy cousin Samuel, son of my uncle Denjamin, wno 
 
20 V LIFE OF 
 
 had learned this trade in London, and had established 
 himself at Boston. But the premium he required fof 
 my apprenticeship displeasing my father, 1 was re 
 called home. 
 
 From my earliest years I had been passionately 
 fond of riding, and 1 laid out in books all the money 
 I could procure. I was particularly pleased wit); ac 
 counts of voyages. My iirst acquisition was Bun*. 
 yan s collection in small separate volumes. These I 
 afterwards sold in order to buy a historical collection 
 by R. Burton, which consisted of small cheap volumes, 
 amounting in all to about forty or fifty. My father s 
 little library was principally made up of books of 
 practical and polemical theology. I rad the great 
 est part of them. I have since often regretted, that 
 at a time when I had so great a thirst for knowledge, 
 rnoro eligible books had not fallen into my hands, as 
 it was then a point decided that 1 should not be edu 
 cated for the church. There was also among my fa 
 ther s books, Plutarch s Lives, in which I read con 
 tinually, and I still regard as advantageously em 
 ployed the time I devoted to them. I found besides, 
 a work of De Foe s, entitled an Essay on Projects, 
 from which, perhaps, I derived impressions that have 
 since influenced some of the principal events of my 
 life. 
 
 My inclination for books at last determined my fa 
 ther to make me a printer, though he had already a 
 son in that p>rofessin. My brother had returned 
 fcom England in 1717, with a press and types, iiUfcr- 
 ier to establish a printing-house at Boston. Thii 
 business pleased me much better than that of my fit- 
 flier, though I had still a predilection for the sea. 
 To prevent the effects which might result from thii 
 inclination, my father was impatient to see me en 
 gaged with my brother. I held back for some time ; 
 atlength, however, I suffered 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 re 
 ceive journeyman s wages only during the last year. 
 
 In a very short time I made great proficiency i* 
 thifl business, and became very serviceable to mj 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. SI 
 
 brother. I had now an opportunity of procuring bet 
 ter books. The acquaintance 1 necessarily formed 
 with booksellers apprentices, enabled me to borrow 
 a volume now and then, which I never failed to re 
 turn punctually and without injury. How often hag 
 it happened to me to pass the greater part of the night 
 in reading by my bed-side, when tho 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 trades 
 man, who bad a handsome collection of books, and 
 who frequented our printing-house, took notice of me. 
 He iavited me to see his library, and had the good 
 ness to lend me any books I was desirous of reading. 
 1 then took a strange fancy for poetry, and composed 
 several little pieces. My brother, thinking he might 
 find his account in it, encouraged me, and engaged me 
 to write two ballads. One, called the Light-house Tra 
 gedy, contained an account of the shipwreck of Cap 
 tain Worthilake and his two daughters; the other 
 was a sailor s song on the capture of the noted pirate 
 called Teach, or Slack-beard. They were wretched 
 verses in point of style, mere blindmen s ditties. 
 When printed, he despatched rne about town to sell 
 them. The first had a prodigious run, because the 
 vent was recent, and had made a great noise. 
 
 My vanity was flattered by this success ; but rav 
 father checked my exultation, by ridiculing my pro 
 ductions, and telling me that versiriers were alwaf* 
 poor. I thus escaped the misfortune of being a vetry 
 wretched poet But as the fac ulty of writing prose has 
 been of great service to me in the course ot my life, 
 and principally contributed to my advancement, I 
 hall relate by what means, situated as I was, I ac 
 quired the small skill I may possess in that way. 
 , There was hi the town another young man, a gntat 
 lover of books, p/ the name of John Collins, with 
 whom I was intimately connected. We frequently 
 engaged in dispute, and were indeed so fond of argu 
 mentation, that nothing was so agreeable to us as a 
 war of words. This contentious temper, I would ob 
 serve by the by, is in danger of becoming a very bad 
 babit, and frequently renders a man s company in- 
 
22 LIFE OF 
 
 supportable, as being no otherwise capable of indu) 
 geuce than by an indiscriminate contradiction. In* 
 dependency of the acrimony and discord it intioducet 
 into conversation, and is often productive of dislike, 
 
 gious controversy. 1 have since remarked, that men 
 cf sense seldom fail into this error; lawyers, fellows 
 of universities, and persons of every profession edu 
 cated at Edinburgh, excepted. 
 
 Collins and I fell one day into an argument, rela 
 tive to the education of women ; namely, whether it 
 was proper to instruct them in the sciences, and 
 whether they were competent to the study. Collins 
 supported the negative, and affirmed that the task 
 was beyond their capacity. I maintained the oppo 
 site opinion, a little perhaps for the pleasure of dis 
 puting. He was naturally more eloquent than I; 
 words flowed copiously from his lips ; and frequently 
 I thought myself vanquished, more by his volubility 
 than by the force of his arguments. We separated 
 without coming to an agreement upon this point, atid 
 as we were not to see each other again for some time, 
 I committed my thoughts to paper, made a fair copy, 
 and sent it to him. He answered, and I replied. 
 Three or four letters had been written by each, when 
 my father chanced to light upon my papers and read 
 them. Without entering into the merits of the cause, 
 he embraced the opportunity of speaking to me upon 
 my manner of writing. He observed, that though I 
 had the advantage of rny adversary in correct spell 
 ing and pointing, which I owed to my occupation, 1 
 was greatly his inferior in elegance of expression, in 
 arrangement, and perspicuity. Of this he convinced 
 me by several examples. I felt the justice of his re 
 marks, became more attentive to language, and re- 
 sclvcd to make every effort to improve my style. 
 
 Amidst these resolves an odd volume of the Spec 
 tator fell into my hands. This was a publication I 
 had never seen. 1 bought the volume, and read it 
 again and again. I was enchanted with it, thought 
 the style excellent, and wished it were hi my powoi 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 23 
 
 to imitate it. With this view I selected some of the 
 papers, made short summaries of the sense of each 
 period, and put them for a few days aside. I then, 
 without looking at the book, endeavoured to restore 
 the essays to their due form, and to express each 
 thought at length, as it was in the original, employ 
 ing the most appropriate words thai occurred to my 
 mind. I afterwards compared my Spectator with the 
 original ; 1 perceived some faults, which J 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 rhyme, would have obliged me to seek 
 for a variety of synonymes, and have rendered me 
 master of them. From this belief, I took seme of the 
 tales of the Spectator and turned them into verse ; 
 and, after a time, when I had sufficiently forgotten 
 them, I again converted them into prose. 
 
 Sometimes also I mingled all my summaries toge 
 ther ; and, a few weeks after, endeavoured to arrange 
 th?m in the best order, before I attempted to form the 
 periods and complete the essays. This I did with a 
 view of acquiring method in the arrangement of my 
 thoughts. On comparing, afterwards, my perform 
 ance with the original, many faults were apparent, 
 which I corrected; but I had sometimes the satisfac 
 tion to think, that, in certain particulars of little im 
 portance, 1 had been fortunate enough to improve 
 the order of thought or the style ; and this encouraged 
 3ne to hope that I should succeed, in time, in writing 4 
 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 labour was 
 finished, the morning before it began, and Sundays 
 when I could escape attending Divine service. While 
 I lived with my rather, he had insisted on my punc 
 tual attendance on public worship, and I still indeed 
 considered it as a duty, but a duty which I thought I 
 bad no time to practise. 
 
24 LIFE OF 
 
 When about sixteen years of age, a work of Tiyon 
 fell into my hands, in which he recommends vegeta- 
 pie diet. I determined to observe it. My brother be 
 ing a bachelor, did not keep house, but boarded with 
 his apprentices in a neighbouring 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 Tryon prepared some of his dishes 
 particularly how to boil potatoes and rice, and makfl 
 fiasty puddings. I then said to my brother, that if 
 he would allow me per week half what he paid fo 
 my board, I would undertake to maintain myuelC 
 The offer was instantly embraced, and I soon found 
 that of what he gave me I was able to save half. 
 This was a new fund for the purchase of books; 
 and other advantages resulted to me from the plan. 
 When my brother and his workmen left the printing- 
 house to go to dinner, I remained behind, and des 
 patching my frugal meal, which frequently consisted 
 of a biscuit only, or a slice of bread and a bunch of 
 raisins, or a bun from the pastry-cook s, with a glasi 
 of water, I had the rest of the time, till tireir return, 
 for study; and my progress therein was proportioned 
 to that clearness of ideas, and quickness of concep 
 tion, which are the fruit of temperance in eating and 
 drinking. 
 
 It was about this period that, having one day been 
 put to the blush for my ignorance in the art of calcu 
 lation, which I had twice failed to learn while at 
 school, I took Cocker s Treatise of Arithmetic, and 
 went through it myself with the utmost ease. I also 
 read a book of Navigation 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 Under 
 standing, and the Art of Thinking, by Messrs. Dw 
 Port Royal. 
 
 While labouring to form and improve my style, I 
 met with an English Grammar, which I believe was 
 Greenwood s, having at the end of it two little essays 
 on rhetoric and logic. In the lattter I found a model 
 of disputation after the manner of Socrates. Shortly 
 after I procured Xencphon s work, entitled, Memora* 
 
DR. FKAN&L1N. 25 
 
 We Things of Socrates, in which are various exam 
 ples 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 hum 
 ble Questioner. The perusal of Shaftsbury and Col 
 lins nad made me a sceptic ; and, being previously so 
 as to many doctrines of Christianity, 1 found Socra- 
 
 es method to be both the safest for myself, as well 
 as the most embarrassing to those against whom I 
 employed it. It soon afforded me singular pleasure; 
 J incessantly practised it ; and became very adroit in 
 obtaining, even from persons of superior understand 
 ing, concessions of which they did not foresee the 
 consequence. Thus I involved them in difficulties 
 from which they were unable to extricate themselves, 
 and sometimes obtained victories, which neither my 
 cause nor my arguments merited. 
 
 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 dif 
 fidence, and never making use, when I advanced any 
 proposition which might be controverted, of the words 
 certainly, undoubtedly, or any others which might 
 give the appearance of being obstinately attached to 
 my opinion. I rather said, I imagine, 1 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, 1 think, been of considerable advan 
 tage to me, when I have had occasion to impress my 
 opinion on the minds of others, and persuade them to 
 the adoption of the measures I have suggested. And 
 since the chief ends of conversation are, to inform or 
 
 o be informed, to please or to persuade, I could wigfc 
 
 hat intelligent and well-meaning men would no 
 themselves diminish the power they possess of being 
 useful, by a positive and presumptuous manner of ex 
 pressing themselves, which scarcely ever fails to dis 
 gust the hearer, and is only calculated to excite op 
 position, and defeat every purpose for which the fa 
 culty of speech has been bestowed, on man. In short, 
 if you wish to inform, a positive and dogmatical 
 
 manneu of advancing your opinion may provoke con* 
 
26 LIFE OP >_ 
 
 tradictlon, and prevent your being heard with atten 
 tion On the other hand, if, with a desire of being 
 informed, and^of benefiting by the knowledge of 
 others, you express yourself as being strongly attached 
 to your O ,vn opinions, modest and sensible men, who 
 do not love disputation, will leave you in tranquil 
 possession of your errors. By following such a me 
 thod, you can rarely hope to please your auditors 
 conciliate their good- will, or work conviction on those 
 whom you may be desirous of gaining over to you 
 views. Pope judiciously observes, 
 
 Men must be taught as if you taught them not, 
 And things unknown proposed as things forgot 
 
 And in the same poem he afterwards advises us, 
 To speak, though sure, with ieeming diffidence. 
 
 He might have added to these lines, one that he has 
 coupled elsewhere, hi my opinion, with less propn* ty. 
 It is thus: 
 
 For want of modesty is want of tense. 
 
 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. 
 
 Now, want of sense, when a man has the misfortune 
 to be so circumstanced, is it not a kind of excuse for 
 want of modesty ? And would not the verses have 
 6een more accurate, if they had been constructed 
 thus; 
 
 Immodest words admit but thi defence^ 
 The want of decency is want of sense. 
 
 But I leave the decision of this to better judges than 
 myselC 
 
 In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to print a new 
 public paper. It was the second that made its ap* 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 27 
 
 pearance in America, and was entitled the "New 
 England Courunt." T lie only one that existed before 
 was the " Boston News Letter." Some of his friends, 
 1 remember, would have dissuaded him from this un 
 dertaking, as a thing that was not likely to succeed ; 
 a single newspaper being, in their opinion, sufficient 
 for ull America. At present, however, in 1771, t ere 
 are no less than twenty-five. But he carried his y,ry- 
 ject into execution, and I was employed in distri 
 buting the copies to his customers, after having assisted 
 m composing and working them off. 
 
 Among his friends he had a number of literary 
 characters, who, as an amusement, wrote short essays 
 for the paper, which gave it reputation, and increased 
 the sale. These gentlemen frequently came to our 
 house. 1 heard tlie conversation that passed, and tiio 
 accounts they gave of the favourable reception of their 
 writings with the public. I was templed to try my 
 hand among them ; but, being still a child as it were, 
 I was fearful that my brother might be unwilling to 
 
 Ct in his paper any performance of which he should 
 w me to be the author. I therefore contrived to 
 disguise my hand, and having written an anonymous 
 piece, I placed it at night under the door of the print- 
 ing-house, where it was found the next morning. My 
 brother communicated it to his friends, when they 
 came as usual to see him, who read it, commented 
 upon it within my hearing, and I had the exquisilo 
 pleasure to find that it met with their approbation, 
 and that in their various conjectures they made re 
 specting the author, no one was mentioned who dirt 
 not enjoy a high reputation ir. the country for talents 
 and genius. I now supposed myself fortunate in my 
 judges, and began to suspect that they were not suofi 
 excellent writers as I had hitherto supposed them, 
 Be this as it may, encouraged by this little adventure, 
 i wrote and sent to press, in the same way, many 
 other pieces, which were equally approved keeping 
 the secret till my slender stock of information and 
 Knowledge for such performances was prefvy com 
 pletely exhausted, when I made myself known. I 
 My brother, upon this discovery, began to entertain 
 a little more respect for me 5 but he stiJi regarded liim- 
 2 
 
28 LIFE OF 
 
 self 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 con 
 ceived that, in many instances, he was too rigorous, 
 and that, on the part of a brother, I had a right to 
 expect greater indulgence. Our disputes were fre 
 quently brought before my father; and either my 
 brother was generally in the wrong, or I was the better 
 pleader of the two, for judgment was commonly given 
 in my favour. But my brother was passionate, and 
 often had recourse to blows, a circumstance which I 
 took in very ill part. This severe and tyrannical 
 treatment contributed, I believe, to imprint on my 
 mind that aversion to arbitrary power, which, during 
 my whole life, I have ever preserved. My apprentice 
 ship became insupportable to me, and I continually 
 sighed for an opportunity of shortening jt, which at 
 ength unexpectedly offered. 
 
 An article inserted in our paper, upon some politi 
 cal subject which I have now forgotten, save offence 
 *> the Assembly. My brother was taken into custody, 
 censured, and ordered into confinement for a month, 
 because, I presume, he would not discover the author. 
 I was also taken up, and examined before the coun 
 cil; but, though I gave them no satisfaetioi , they 
 contented themselves with reprimanding, an J then 
 dismissing me; considering me probably a-< boi:nd, in 
 quality of apprentice, to keep my master s stx -its. 
 
 The imprisonment of my brother kindled my re- 
 fentmcut, notwithstanding rur private quarrels. Dur- 
 : ing its continuance, the management of th* paper 
 was entrusted to me, a ld I was bold enough 10 msert 
 some pasquinades against the governors, whi -h high- 
 f y pleased my brother, while others began to look 
 Upon me in an unfavourable point of view, consi 
 dering me as a young wit, inclined to satire and lam 
 poon 
 
 My brother s enlargement was accompanied v th 
 an arbitary order from the House of Assembly, "Thai 
 James franklin should no logger print" ! he newspapei 
 entitled tne *INevv England CffUfant** 1 In tins con 
 juncture, we held a consultation of our friends at tiie 
 juiuling-nouse, m order tn determine what was to be 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 29 
 
 . Sbme "proposed to evade the order, t 
 ing the title of the paper : but my brotlier fcrseeing i 
 conveniences that would result from this step, thought 
 it better that it should in future be printed in the 
 name of Benjamin Franklin; and, to avoid the cen 
 sure 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 indenture 
 should be given up to me, with a fuH and entire dis 
 charge written on the back, in order to be produce 
 upon an emergency : but that, to secure to my brothe 
 the benefit of my service, I should sign a new contrary 
 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, 1/3 make its ap 
 pearance for some months in my name. At length a 
 new difference arising between my brother and me, 
 I ventured to take advantage of my ifberty, presum 
 ing that lie would not dare to-jjrod Tt the new con 
 tract. It was undoubtedly d;sho> >ahle to avail 
 myself of this circumstance, and 1 reckon this action 
 as one of the first eiiors of my life, out I was little 
 capable of estimating it at its true value, embittered 
 as my mind had be^n by the recollection of the blows 
 I had received. Exclusive of his passionate treatment 
 to me, my brother was by no means a men of an ill 
 temper, and perhaps my manners had too much im- 
 pertinence no: to afford it a very natural pretext. 
 
 When he knew that it was my determination to qu t 
 him, he wished to prevent my finding employment 
 elsewhere. He went to all the printing- houses "in the 
 town, and prejudiced the masters against me ; who 
 accordingly refused to employ me. The idea thai 
 uggested itself to me of going to New* York, the near 
 esl town in which there was a printing offire. Farther 
 reflection oonfinnei 1 me in the design of leaving Bos 
 ton, where I Jiad already rendered myself" an object of 
 suspicion to the governing party. It was probable, 
 from the ar )itary proceedings of" the Asse-nbly in the 
 affair of my brother, iliat, by renniining, I should soon 
 have been exposed to difficulties, which 1 had thA 
 greater reason to apprehend, as, from my indiscreet 
 
30 LIFE Or 
 
 disputes upon the subject of religion, I began to bd 
 regarded by pious souls, with horror, either as an 
 apostate or an atheist. I came therefore to a resolu 
 tion: but my fatiier, siding with ray brother, I pre 
 sumed that if I attempted to depart openly, measures 
 would be taken to prevent me. My friend Collins 
 undertook to favour my flight. He agreed for my pas 
 eage with a captain of a New-York sloop, to whom 
 he represented me as a young man of his acquaint 
 ance, who had an affair with a girl of bad character, 
 whose parents wished to compel me to marry her, and 
 of consequence I could neither make my appearance, 
 nor go olr publicly. I told part of my books to pro 
 cure a small sum of money, and went privately on 
 board the sloop. By favour of a good wind, I found 
 myself in thiee days at New-York, nearly three hun 
 dred miles from my home, at the age only of seven 
 teen years, without knowing an individual in tho 
 place, and witlTvery little money in my pocket. 
 
 The inclination 1 had felt for a sea-faring life wat 
 entirely subsided, or 1 should now have been able to 
 gratify it; but, having another trade, and believing my- 
 gflf to be a tolerable workman, I hesitated not to offer 
 m> services to the old Mr. William Bradford, who had 
 been the first printer in Pennsylvania, but had quitted 
 the province on account of a quarrel with George 
 Keith, the governor. He could not give me employ 
 ment 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 Kose, who was dead, and that if I 
 would go thither, he believed that he would engage 
 me. Philadelphia was a hundred miles farther. I l.e- 
 d not to embark in a boat in order to repair, to) 
 
 the shortest cut of the sea, to Am boy, leaving my trunk 
 and effects to come after me by the usual and mcrt 
 tedious conveyance. In crossing the bay we met wiii 
 a squall, which shattered to pieces our rotten sails, 
 prevented us from entering the Kill, and threw us up 
 bn Long Island. 
 
 During the squall, a drunken Dutchman, who, KL* 
 myself, was a passenger in the boat, fell into the sea 
 At the moment that he was sinking, I seized him Lf 
 
DR. FRANRLLN. 31 
 
 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 lie 
 requested me to dry. This volume I found to lie my 
 old favourite 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 learned that it has 
 been translated into almost all the languages of Eu 
 rope, and, next to the Bible, 1 am persuaded it is ona 
 of the books thai has had the greatest spread Honest 
 John is the first, that 1 know of, v/ho has mixed nar 
 rative and dialogue together; a mode of writing very 
 engaging to the reader, who in the most interesting 
 passages finds himself admitted, as it were, into the 
 company, and present at the conversation. De Foe 
 has imitated it with success in his Robinson Crusoe, 
 his Moll Flanders, and other works; as also Richard 
 son in liis 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 breakers produced by 
 the rocky shore. We cast anchor and veered the ca 
 ble 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 oiJiei-. There 
 were some canoes upon the bank, and we called out 
 to them, and made signs to prevail on them to corne 
 and take us uj, ; but either they did not understand us, 
 or they deemed our request impracticable, and with 
 drew. Night came on, and nothing remained for us 
 but to wait quietly the subsiding of the wind; till 
 when, we determined, that is, the pilot and 1, to sleep 
 if possible. For that puqiose we went below the 
 hatches along with \h<* Dutchman, who was drenched 
 with water. The sea broke over the boat, and reach 
 ed us in our retreat, so that we were presently as com 
 pletely drenched as he. 
 
 We had very little repose during the whole night; 
 but the wind abating the jiext day, we succeeded in 
 reaching Aml>oy before it was dark, af er having pass- 
 td thirty hours without provisions, and with no othci 
 
ft LIFE OF 
 
 drink than a bottle of bad rum, the watei upon which 
 we rowed being salt. In the evening I went to bed 
 with a very violent fever. I nad 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 fevei 
 left me. The next day I crossed the river in a ferry 
 boat, and continued my journey on foot. I had fifty 
 miles to walk, in order to reach Burlington, where I 
 was told 1 should find passage-boats that would con 
 vey me to Philaxlelphia. It rained hard the whole 
 day, so that I was wet to the skin. Finding myself 
 fatigued about noon, I stopped at a piltry inn, where 
 I passed the rest of the day and the whole night, be 
 ginning 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 1 discovered by the 
 questions that were acked me : and 1 felt that 1 was 
 every moment in danger of being taken up as such. 
 The next day, however, I continued my journey, and 
 arrived in the evening at an inn, eight or ten miles 
 from Burlington, that was kept by one Dr. Brown. 
 
 This man entered into conversation with me while 
 I took some refreshment, and perceiving that I had 
 read a Iit.de, he expressed towards me considerable 
 interest, and friendship, pur acquaintance continued 
 during tne remainder of his life. I believe him to have 
 been what Ls called an itinerant doctor; foi there was 
 no town in England, or indeed in Europe, of which he 
 could not give a particular account. He was neither 
 deficient in understanding or literature, but he was a 
 sad infidel; and, some yearr after, wickedly under 
 took to travesty the Bible, in burlesque verse, as Cot 
 ton 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, wh ch it never was. 
 
 I spent the night at his house, and reached Burling 
 ton tno next morning. On my arrival, I had the mor 
 tification to learn that the ordinary passage-boats had 
 saUed a little before. This was on a Saturday, and 
 there would be no other boat till the Tuesday follow 
 ing, f I returned to tlie house of an old woman in the 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. S3 
 
 town, who had sold me some gingerbread to eat on my 
 passage, and I asked her advice. She invited mo to 
 take up my abode with her till an opportunity offered 
 for me to embark. Fatigued with having travelled so 
 far on foot, I accepted her invitation. When she un 
 derstood tiiat I was a printer, she would havs per 
 suaded me to stay at Burlington, and set up my trade j 
 but she was little aware of the capital that would bo 
 necessary for such a purpose ! I was treated while at 
 hor hoase with true hospitality. She gave m*, with 
 the utmost good- will, a dinner of beef-? tcaks,,and would* 
 accept of nothing in return but a pint of ale. 
 
 Here 1 imagined myself to be fixed til! the Tuesday 
 in the ensuing week ; but, walking out in the evening 
 by the river side, I saw a boat with a number of per 
 sons in it approach. It was going to Philadelphia, 
 ana the company took me in. As there was no wind, 
 we could omymake way with our oars. About mid 
 night, not perceiving the town, some of the company 
 were of opinion that we must have passed it, and 
 wej?e unwilling to row any farther; the rest not know 
 ing wnere we were, it was resolved that we should 
 stop. We drew towards the shore, entered a creek, 
 ari l landed near some old palisades, which served us 
 for firewood, it being a cold night in October. Hero 
 we staid till day, when one of the company found the 
 place in which we were to be Cooper s Creek, a little 
 above Philadelphia; which, in reality we perceived 
 the moment we were out of the creek. We arrived on 
 Sunday about eight or nine o clock 5n the morning, 
 and landed on Market- street wharf. 
 
 1 have entered into the particulars of my voyage, 
 and shall, in like manner, describe my first entrance 
 into this city, that you may compare beginnings so lit 
 tle auspicious, with the figure L have since made. 
 
 On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my working 
 diess, my best clothes being to come by sea. I was 
 covered with dirt; my pockets were filled with shirts 
 and stockings ; I was unacquainted with a single souj 
 in the place, and knew not where to look for a lodg. 
 ing. Fatigued with walking, rowing, and having pass 
 ed the nignt without sleep, I was extremely hungry, 
 and all my money consisted cf a Dutch dollar, JUKI 
 
W LIFE OP- 
 
 about a shilling s worth of coppers, which I gave to 
 the boatinep for ir.y passage. As I had assisted them 
 in rowing, they refused it at first ; but I insisted on 
 their taking it. A man is sometimes more generous 
 when he has little, than when he has much money; 
 probably because, in the first case, he is desirous of 
 concealing his poverty. 
 
 I walked towards the top of the street, looking ea- 
 cprly on both sides, till J came to Market-street, where 
 imet with a child with a loaf of bread. Often had 
 J made my dnner on dry bread. 1 inquired where 
 he had bought it, ami went straight to the baker s 
 shop which he pointed out to me. I asked for some 
 biscuits, expecting lo find such as we had at Boston; 
 but they made, it seems, none of that sort at I J hila- 
 dclphra. i then asked for a three-penny loaf. They 
 made no loaves of that price. Finding myself igno 
 rant of the prices, as well as of the different kind:, of 
 bread, 1 desired him to let me have three-penny 
 worth of bread of some kind or other. He gave me 
 three lar^e roils. I was surprised at receiving so 
 much- I took them, however, and having no room in 
 my pockets, 1 walked on with a roll under each arm, 
 eating the third. In this manner I went through Mar- 
 set-street to Fourth-street, and passed the house of 
 Mr. Head, the lather of my future wife. She was 
 standing at the door, observed me, and thought with 
 reason., that 1 made a very singular and grotesque ap 
 pearance. 
 
 I then turned the cnn.er, and went through Chest- 
 uut-street, eating my roll all the way ; and having 
 made this round, I found myself again on Market- 
 street war! , near the txiat in which I arrived. 1 step 
 ped hito it to fake a drai. ^ht of the river water; and, 
 finding myself satisfied with the iir.st roll, 1 gave the 
 ether two to a woman and her child, who had come 
 down thfi river with us in the boat, and was waiting 
 to continue her journey. Tims refreshed, I regained 
 the street, which was now full of well dressed neople, 
 all going the same way. J joined them, and was 
 thus led to a large Quaker meeting-house near the 
 market-place. I sat down with tiie rest, and, after 
 looking round me for some time, hearing nothing said* 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 33 
 
 and being drowsy from my last night s labour and 
 want of rest, [ fell into a sound sleep. In this state 
 I continued till the assembly dispersed, when one of 
 Ihe congregation had the goodness to wake me. This 
 ivas consequently the first house I entered, or in which 
 I *lept in Philadelphia. 
 
 I began again to walk aion^ the street by the river- 
 * de; and, looking attentively in the face of every ono 
 \ met with, I at length perceived a young quaker 
 whose countenance pleased me. I accosted him, a\id 
 bugged him to inform me where a stranger migni 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, 1 will show you a Better one. Hft 
 conducted me to the Crooked Billet, ;n "Water- street. 
 There I ordered something for dinner, and, during my 
 rr*eal, a number of curious questions were put to me; 
 my youth and appearance exciting the suspicion of 
 my being a runaway. After dinner my drowsiness 
 returned, and 1 threw myself upon a bed without tak 
 ing orf my clothes, and slept till six o clock in the 
 evening, when I was called to supper. I afterwards 
 went tu Led at a very early hour, and did not awake 
 till the next morning. 
 
 As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent a trim 
 as I could, and went to the house of Andrew Brad 
 ford, the printer. I found his father iu the shop, whom 
 [ had seen at New- York. Having travelled on horse 
 back, he had arrived at Philadelphia before me. He 
 introduced me to his son, who received me with civili 
 ty, and gave me some breakfast ; but told me he had 
 no occasion at present for a journeyman, having late- 
 kf procured one. He added, that there was another 
 fruiter ntnvly settled in the town, of the name of Kei 
 mer, who might perhaps employ me ; and that in cas* 
 of refusal, I should be welcome to lodge at his house, 
 and he wouid give me a little work now and then, till 
 something better should ofier. 
 
 The old man offered to introduce me to me new 
 printer. When we were at his house, * Neighnour, 11 
 aid he, ** J bring you a young man in the printing hit- 
 giness ; rxni.Aps you may have need ol his services." 
 2 * 
 
3fc LIFE OF 
 
 Keimer asked me some questions, put a composing- 
 stick in my hand, to see how 1 could work, and then 
 said, that at present he had nothing foi me to do, but 
 that he should soon be aule to employ me. At the 
 same time, taking old Bradford for an inhabitant of 
 the town well-disposed lowaids him, he communica 
 ted his project to him, and the prospect he had of 
 success. Bradford was careful not to discover that he 
 was father of the other printer; and from what Kei- 
 m3r had said, that he hoped shortly to be in posses 
 sion oi the greater part of the business of the town, 
 led him, by artful questions, and by starting some dif 
 ficulties, to disclose 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 thaf 
 one of the twc was a cunning old fox, and the other a 
 perfect novice. Bradford left me with Keimer, whf 
 was strangely surprised when 1 informed him whi 
 the old man was. 
 
 I found Keimer s printing materials to consist of ar 
 old damaged press,and a small fountof worn outEnglisl 
 letters, with which he himself was at work upon an 
 elegy on Aquila Rose, whom I have mentioned above, 
 an ingenious young man, and of an excellent charao 
 ter, highly esteemed in the town, secretary to the as 
 sembly, 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 wouKl probabiy occupy all his types, it was impos 
 sible for any one to assist him. I endeavoured to put 
 his press in order, which he had not yet used, and of 
 which indeed he understood nothing : and, having pro 
 mised to come and work off his elegy as soon as it 
 should be ready, 1 returned to the house of I>ra<1ford r 
 who gave me some trifle to do ibr the present, for which 
 1 had my board and lodging. 
 
 In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off his 
 elegy. He kad now procured another set of letter- 
 cases, and had a pamphlet to re-print, upon which lie 
 et me to work. 
 
 The two Philadelphia printers appeared desUlute 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 37 
 
 of every qualification necessary in their profession. 
 Bradford had not been brought up to it, and war very 
 illiterate. Keimer, though he understood a little of 
 the business, was merely a compositor, and wholly in 
 capable of working at press. Fie had been one of tiia 
 French prophets, and Knew how to imitate their su 
 pernatural agitations. At the time of our first acquain 
 tance he professed no particular religion, but a littla 
 of all upon occasion. He was totally ignorant of th* 
 world, and a great knave at heart, as i had afterward* 
 an opportunity of experiencing. 
 
 Keimer, could not endure that, working with him, I -: 
 should lodge at Bradford s. He had indeed a house, 
 but it was unfurnished; so that lie could not take me 
 in. He procured me a lodging at Mr. Reed s, his 
 landlord, whom I have already mentioned. My trunk 
 and effects being now arrived, I thought of making, 
 in the eyes of Miss Reed, a more respectable appear 
 ance than when chance exhibited me io her view, eat 
 ing my roll, and wandering in the stieets. 
 
 From this period I began to contract acquaintance 
 with such young people as were fond of reading, and 
 spent my evenings with them agreeably, while at the 
 same time, 1 gained money by my industry, and, 
 thanks to my frugality, lived contented. 1 thus forgot 
 Boston as much as possible, and wished every one to 
 ,be ignorant of the place of my residence, except my 
 friend Collins; to whom I wrote, and who kept my 
 secret. 
 
 An incident however arrived, which sent me home 
 much sooner than I had proposed. 1 had a brother-in- 
 law, by the name of Rooert Holmes, master of a trad 
 ing sloop from Boston to Delaware. Being at New 
 eastle, forty miles below Philadelphia, he heard of 
 me, and wrote to inform me of the chagrin which my 
 sudden departure from Boston had occasioned my pa 
 rents, and of the affections which they still entertain 
 ed for me, assuring me that, if 1 would return, every 
 tiling should be adjusted to my satisfaction; and he 
 was very pressing in his entreaties ; I answered his let 
 ter, thanked him for his advice, and explained tho 
 reasons which had induced me to quit Boston, wilk 
 
& LIFE OF 
 
 such force and clearness, that he was convinced I had 
 been less to blame than he had imagined. 
 
 Sir William Keith, goveri.or of the province, was 
 at Newcastle at the time. Captain Holmes, being by 
 chance in his company when he received my letter, 
 took occasion to cpeak of me, and showed it him. The 
 Governor read it, and apj>eaied surprised when he 
 learned my age. He thought me, he said, a young man 
 , f very promising talents, and that, of consequence, 
 might to be encouraged ; that there were at i liiladel* 
 l^iia njne but very ignorant printers, and *hat if I were 
 to set up for myself, he had no doubt of my success ; 
 that, ibr his own part, he would procure me all the pub 
 lic business, and would render me every other service 
 in his power. My brother-in-law related all this to me 
 afterwards at Boston ; but I knew nothing cf it at the 
 timo , when one day Keimer and I, being at work toge 
 ther near the window, we saw the Governor and ano 
 ther gentleman, Colonel French, of Newcastle, hand 
 somely dressed, cross the street., and make directly for 
 our house. We heard them at the door, and Keimer, 
 believing it to be a visit to himself, went immediately 
 down; but the Governor inquired for me, came up 
 stairs, and, with a condescension and politeness to 
 which 1 had not at all been accustomed, paid me many 
 compliments, desired to be acquainted with me, oblig 
 ingly reproached me for not having made myself known 
 to him on my arrival in the town, and wished me to 
 accomuanv him to a tavern, where lie and Col. French 
 were going to taste some excellent Madeira wine. 
 
 I was, 1 confess, somewhat surprised, and Keimer 
 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 Ma 
 deira, he proposed to me to establish a printing-house 
 He set forth the probabilities of success, and himself 
 and Colonel Frerch assured me that I should have 
 their protection-arid influence in obtaining the printing 
 of the public papers of both governments; and as I 
 appeared to doubt whether my father would assist me 
 in this enterprise, Sir William said he would give me 
 a letter to him, in which he would represent the ad 
 vantages of the scheme, in a light which he had uo 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 39 
 
 doubt would determine him. It was thus concluded 
 that I should return to Boston by the first vessel, with 
 the letter of recommendation, from the Governor to 
 my father. Meanwhile the project was to be kept so. 
 cret, and I continued to work for Keimer as before. 
 
 The Governor sent eX ery now and theii to invite 
 me to dine with him. I considered this as aver} 1 great 
 honour; and was the more sensible of it, as he cdj- 
 versed with me in the most affable, familiar, and 
 friendly manner imaginable. 
 
 Towards the end of April, 1724, a small vessel was 
 ready to sail for Boston. I took leave of Keimer, up- 
 >n the pretext of going to see my parents. The Go- 
 rernor gave me a long letter, in which lie said many 
 flattering things of me to my father; and strongly re 
 commended tlie project of iny settling at Philadelphia, 
 AS a thing which could not fail to make my fortune. 
 
 Gohig down the bay we struck on a flat, and sprung 
 a leak. The weather was very tempestuous, and we 
 were obliged to pump without intermission ; I took my 
 turn. We arrived, however, safe and sound, at Bos 
 ton, after about a fortnight s passage. 
 
 I had been absent seven complefe months, and my 
 relations, during the interval, had received no intelli 
 gence of me ; for my brother-in-law, Holmes, was not 
 yet returned, and had not written about me. My un- 
 expected appearance surprised the family ; but they 
 were all delighted at seeing me again, and, except my 
 brother, welcomed me home, i went to him at the 
 printing-hotipc. I was better dressed than 1 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 
 ui money. Me gave me no very civil reception ; and f 
 having eyed me from head to foot, resumed his work. 
 
 The workmen asked me with eagerness where \ 
 had been, what sort of a country it was, and how 1 
 liked it. I spoke in the highest terms of Philadelphia, 
 the happy life we led there, and expressed my inten 
 tion or going back again. One of them asking what 
 Tort of money we had, I displayed before them a hand 
 ful of silver, which I diew from my pocket. This wa? 
 a curiosity to which they were not accustomed, papei 
 
10 LIFE OF 
 
 being the current money at Boston. I failed not, afie? 
 this, to let them see my watch ; and, at last, my brothei 
 continuing sullen and out of humour, I gave them a 
 shilling to drink, and took my leave. This visit stung - 
 my brother to the soul ; for when, shortly after, my 
 mother spoke to him of a reconciliation, and a desire 
 to see us upon good terms, he told her that I had so 
 insulted him before his men, that he would never for 
 get or forgive it : in this, however, he was mistaken. 
 
 The Governor s letter appeared to excite in my far 
 ther some surprise ; but he said little. After some days 
 Captain Holmes being returned, he showed it him, 
 asking him if he knew Keith, and what sort of a man 
 he was: adding, that, in his opinion, it proved very 
 little discernment to think of setting up a boy in busi 
 ness, 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 favour of the scheme ; but my 
 father firmly maintained its absurdity, and at last gave 
 a positive refusal. He wrote, however, 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 
 entrusted with the conduct of so important an enter 
 prise, 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 determination, he set 
 ofl before me by land for Rhode Island, leaving his 
 books, which farmed a handsome collection in mathe 
 matics and natural philosophy, to bt conveyed with 
 mine to New-York, wher? he proposed to wall forme. 
 My father, though he could not approve Sir William V 
 proposal, was yet pleased that I had obtained so ad 
 vantageous a recommendation as that of a person of 
 his rank, and that my industry and economy had ena 
 bled me to equip myself so handsomely in so ^short a 
 period. Seeing no appearance of accommodating mat 
 ters between my brother and me, he consented tt> my 
 return to Philadelphia, advised me to be civil to e*ry 
 body, to endeavour to obtain general esteem, and a* nid 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 41 
 
 satire and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too 
 IT. rich inclined; adding, that with perseverence and 
 prudent economy, 1 might, by the time 1 became of age, 
 save enough to establish myself in business; and that 
 if a small sum should then be wanting, he would un 
 dertake-to supply it. 
 
 This was all I cculil obtain from him, except some 
 ir rfling presents, in token of friendship from him and 
 my mother. I embarked once more fo? New -York, 
 furnished at this time wiih their approbation and 
 blessing. The sloop having touched at Newport, in 
 Rhode i&Iawxv, * paid a visit to my broiher John, who 
 had ibr some years been settled there, and was married. 
 He had always been at/^hed to rne,and he received 
 rne with great anV.uon. One of his fucndF, whose 
 name vvas Vernon, having a debt of about thirty-six 
 pounds- due him in Pennsylvania, begged me to receive 
 it for him, and to keep the money till 1 should hear 
 from him ; accordingly he gare me an order for that 
 purpose. This affair occasioned me, in the sequel, 
 much uneasiness. 
 
 At Newport we took on board a number of passen 
 gers; among whom were two young women, and a grave 
 and sensible quaker lady with her servants. 1 hud 
 shown an obliging forwardness in rendering the quaker 
 some triflrig services, which led her, probably, to feel 
 an interest in my welfare; for when she saw a famili 
 arity like 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 
 aro women of bad characters; I perceive it in alitheii 
 actions. If thou dost not take care, they will lead thee 
 into danger. They are strangers to thee, and I advise 
 thee, by the friendly interest I take in thy preservation, 
 to fnrm no connexion with them." As I appealed at 
 first not to think quite so ill of them as she did, she re 
 lated many aiings she had seen and heard, which had 
 escaped my attention, but which convinced me that 
 glte was in the right. I thanked her for her obi ging 
 advice, and iiouiised to follow it. 
 
4* LIFE OF 
 
 When we arrived at Ncvy-York, they informed me 
 where tliey lodged, and invited me to come and ce 
 them. I did not however go, and it was well I did not ; 
 for the next day, the captain, missing a silver spoon 
 and some other things which had been taken from the 
 cabin, and knowing these women to be prostitutes, pro 
 cured 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 during 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 intimate from 
 our infancy, and had read the same books together; 
 but he had the advantage of being able to devote moro 
 time to reading and study, and an astonishing disposi 
 tion for mathematics, in which he left me far behind 
 him. When at Boston, I had been accustomed to pass 
 with him almost ail my leisure hours. He was then 
 n sober and industrious lad, his knowledge had gained 
 him a very general esteem, and he seemed to promise to 
 make an advantageous figure in society. But, during 
 my absence, he had unfortunately addicted himself to 
 brand}% 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 ex 
 penses at the inn, arid tc maintain him during tne rest 
 of his journey; a uurthen that was very inconvenient 
 to me. 
 
 The Governor of New- York, whose name was Bcr- 
 net, hearing the Captain say, that a young man, who 
 Vas a passenger in his ship, had a great number of 
 looks, begged him to bring me to his house. I accord 
 ingly went, and should have taken Collins with mo, 
 had he been sober. The Governor 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 gi/vernor who 
 had honoured me with his attention ; and to a pom 
 loy, as I was then, these I .ttle adventures did not fail 
 fc> be pleasing. 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 43 
 
 Vie arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I received 
 Yenion s money, without which we should have been 
 cnwtble to have finished our journey. 
 
 Collins wished to get employment as a merchant s 
 clerk ; but either ni* breath or his countenance betray 
 ed his bad habit; for though he had recommendations, 
 he met with no success, and continued to lodge and eat 
 with me, and at my expense. Knowing that I had 
 Yemeni s money, he was continually asking me to lend 
 him some of it ; promising to repay me as soon as h 
 should get employment. At last lie had drawn s 
 much of this money, that I was extremely alarmed at 
 ivhat might become of me, should he fail to make good 
 the deficiency. His habit of drinking did rw>t at all 
 diminish, and was a frequent source of discord be- 
 hveen us; for when he had drank a little too much, 
 he was very headstrong. 
 
 Being one day in a boat together, on the Delaware, 
 with some Sther young persons, he refused to rake his 
 turn in rowing. " You snail row forme," said he, "till 
 we get home." " No," I replied, "we will not row for 
 you." " You shall," said he, or remain upon the wa 
 ter all nig n." 4l As you please." Lei 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 my refusal. He then 
 swore that Vie wouM make me row, or would throw 
 me out of the boat; and lie 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 head fbre- 
 most into the river. I knew that he was a good swim 
 mer, 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 ourselves out of 
 his reach ; and, whenever he touched the boat, we ask 
 ed him if he would tow, striking his hands at the same 
 time with the oars to make him let go his hold. He 
 was nearly sultocated with rage, hut obstinately refus 
 ed making 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 adventure. At last the captain 
 
44 LIFE OF 
 
 of a West-India ship, who was commissioned to pro. 
 cure a tutor for the children of a gentleman at Barba- 
 does, meeting with Collins, offered him the place. He 
 accepted it, and took his leave of me, promising to 
 discharge the debt he owed rne witn the first money 
 he should receive ; but I have heard nothing of him 
 since. 
 
 The violation of the trust reposed in me by Vernon, 
 was one of the first great errors of my life; and i 
 jvoves my father was not mistaken when he supposed 
 me too young to be entrusted with the management 
 of important affairs. But Sir William, upon reading 
 his letter, thought him too prudent. There was a dif 
 ference, he said, between individuals: years of matu 
 rity were not always accompanied .with discretion 
 neither was youth in every instance devoid of it 
 ** Since your father," added he, will not set you up 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. 1 am de 
 termined to have a good printer here, and I am sure 
 you will succeed. 1 This was said with so nsuch seem 
 ing cordiality, that I suspected not for an instant the 
 sincerity of the offer. 1 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, soms friend, better acquainted with his cha 
 racter 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 h 
 had no intention to perform. But having never soli 
 cited him, how could 1 suppose his offers to be deceit- 
 ^il? On the contrary, I believed him to be the bes 
 nan in the world. 
 
 I gave him the inventory of a small printing-office; 
 the expense ol which 1 had calculated at about a hun 
 dred pounds sterling. He expressed his approbation 
 but asked t ; r if my presence in England, that I might 
 choose the characters myself, and see that every arti 
 cle was good in its kind, would not be an advantage ? 
 You will also be able," said he, "to form some ac 
 quaintance there, and establish a correspondence with 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 45 
 
 stationers and booksellers." This I acknowledged 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 Philadelphia. But the Annis was not to sail for 
 some months. I therefore continued to work with Kei- 
 mer, unhappy respecting the sum which Collins had 
 drawn from me, and almost in continual agony at the 
 thoughts of Vernon, who fortunately made no demand 
 of his money till seven years after. 
 
 In the account of my first voyage from Boston to 
 Philadelphia, I omitted, I believe, a trifling circum 
 stance, which will not, perhaps, be out of place here. 
 During a calm, which stopped us above Block Island, 
 the crew employed themselves in fishing for cod, of 
 which they caught a great number. I had hitherto 
 adhered to my resolution of not eating any thing that 
 had possessed life ; and I considered, on this occasion 
 agreeably to the maxims of my master Tyron, the cap 
 ture of every fish as a sort of murder, committed with 
 out 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. Mean 
 while, I had formerly been extremely fond of fish; 
 and, when one of these cods was taken out of the fry 
 ing-pan, I thought its flavour 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 my 
 self, 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 whatever 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 form- 
 er enthusiasm, and, being fond of argument, we ire- 
 
46 LIFE OF 
 
 quently disputed together. I was so much in the habit 
 of using my Socnuic metho;!, and so frequently puz 
 zled him by my questions, which appeared at first 
 very distant from the point in dobate, yet, nevertheless, 
 led to it by degrees, involving him in difficulties and 
 contradictions from which he was unable to extricate 
 himself, that he became at last ridiculously cautious, 
 and would scarcely answer the most plain and fa 
 miliar 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 seri 
 ously proposed to me to become his colleague in the 
 establishment of a new religious sect. He was to pro 
 pagate the docirine by preaching, and I to relate every 
 opponent 
 
 When he explained to me his tenets, t found many 
 absurdities which I refused to admit, unless he would 
 agree in turn to adopt some of my opinions. Keimer 
 wore his beard long, because Moses had somewhere 
 said, " Thou shall not rnar the corners of thy beard." 
 He likewise observed the Sabbath ; awl these were 
 with him two very essential points. I disliked them 
 toth ; but I consented to adopt them, provided ho 
 *vould agree to abstain from animal lood. " I doubt," 
 said he, " whether my constitution will be able to sup 
 port it." I assured him on the contrary, that he would 
 find himself the better for it. He was naturally a glut 
 ton, ajul 1 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 neighbourhood 
 prepared ami brought us our victuals, to whom I gave a 
 list of forty dishes ; in the composition of which there 
 entered neither flesh nor fish. This fancy was the 
 more agreeable to me, as it turned to good account 
 for the whole expense of our living did not exceed for 
 each, eighteen-pence a week. 
 
 1 have since that period observed several Jents with 
 the greatest strictness, and have suddenly returned 
 again to my ordinary diet, without experiencing the 
 smallest inconvenience; which has led me to regairt 
 as of no importance the advice commonly given, of 
 introducing gradually such alterations of regimen. 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 4* 
 
 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 being ready a little too sooti, 
 he could not resist the temptation, and ent it all up 
 before we arrived. 
 
 During the circumstances I have related, I had paid 
 some attentions to Miss Read. I entertained for her 
 the utmost esteem and affection ; and I had reason to 
 believe that these sentiments were mutual. But we 
 were both young, scarcely more than eighteen years 
 of age ; and, as I was on the point of undertaking a 
 long voyage, her mother though*, 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 1 
 expected, I should be established in my business. Per 
 haps also she thought that my expectations were not 
 so well founded as I imagined. 
 
 My most intimate acquaintances at this time were 
 Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph 5 
 young rnen.who were all fond of reading. The two first 
 were clerks to Mr. Charles Brockdcn, one of the princi 
 pal attorneys in the town, and the other, olerk^to a mer. 
 chant. Watson was an upright, pious, and sensible 
 young^man : the others were somewhat more loose in 
 their principles of religion, particularly Ralph, whose 
 faith, as well as that of Collins, J had contributed to 
 shake ; each oi" whom made me suffer a very adequate 
 punishment. Osborne was sensible, and Sincere and 
 affectionate in his friendships, but too .nuch inclined 
 to the critic in matters of literature. Ralph was in-* 
 genious and shrewd, genteel in his address, and ex 
 tremely eloquent. 1 do not remember to have met witli 
 a more agreeable speaker. They were bet h enamoured 
 of the muses, and had already evinced their passion 
 by some small poetical productions. 
 
 It was the custom with us to take a charming walk 
 on Sundays, in the waods that border the SkuylkilL 
 Here we read together, and afterwards conversed o 
 what we read. Ralph was disposed to give himself 
 up eiuirely to poetry. He flattered himself that . 
 
48 LIFE OF 
 
 should arrive at great eminence in the art, and evsn 
 acquire a fortune. The sublimest poets, he pretend 
 ed, when they first began to write, committed as many 
 fatil s as himself. Osborne endeavoured to dissuade 
 him, by assuring him that he had no genius for poet 
 ry, 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, 
 Ihough you have no capital, of so far succeeding as to 
 be employed as a factor; and may thus, in time, ac 
 quire the means of setting up for yourself." I con* 
 currcci in these sentiments, but at the same time ex- 
 pressed my approbation of amusing ourselves some 
 time with poetry, with a view to iiv.prove our style. 
 In consequence of this it was proposed, that, at our 
 next meeting, each of us should bring a copy of versos 
 of his own composition. Our object in this competi 
 tion was to benefit each other by our mutual remarks, 
 criticisms, and corrections; and as style and expres 
 sion 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 performance 
 was ready. I informed him that 1 bad been idle, and, 
 not much liking the task, had done nothing. He show 
 ed me his piece, and asked me what I thought of it. 
 I expressed myself in terms of warm approbation ; 
 because it really appeared to have considerable merit. 
 He then sa ul, " Osborne will never acknowledge, the 
 smallest decree ol excellence in any production of 
 mine. Envy alone dictates to him a thousand ani 
 madversions. Of you, he is not so jealous : I wish, 
 herefore, you would take the veises, 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 nc will speak of them. I agreed to 
 this little artifice, and immediately transcribed the 
 verses to prevent all suspicion. 
 
 We met. Watson s performance was the first that 
 was read. It had some beauties, but many faults. 
 We next read Osnorn^s, which was much better. 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 49 
 
 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 cor 
 rections, fee. No excuse, however, was admissible, 
 the piece must be produced. It was read and re-read, 
 Watson and Osborne immediately resigne/l tiie palm, 
 and united in applauding it. Ralph alone made a fe\v 
 remarks, and proposed some alterations ; but I de 
 fended my text. Osborne agreed with me, and tok\ 
 Ralph that he was no more able to criticise than la 
 was able to write. 
 
 When Osborne was alone with me, he expressed 
 himself still more strongly in favour of what he con 
 sidered as my performance. He pretended that he 
 had put some restraint on himself before, apprehensive 
 of my construing his commendations into flattery. 
 ** But who would have supposed," said he, " Franklin 
 to be capable of such a composition ? What paint 
 ing, what energy, what fire! He has surpassed the 
 original. In his common conversation he appears not 
 to have a choice of words ; he hesitates, and is at u 
 lossf, and yet, good God, how he writes." 
 
 At our next meeting, Ralph discovered the trick we 
 had played Osborpe, \vho was rallied without mercy. 
 
 By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his resolution 
 of becoming a poe\. I left nothing unattempted to 
 divert him from his pin-pose; but he persevered, till 
 at last the reading of Fop^* effected his cure: he be- 
 came, however, a very tolerable prose writer. I shall 
 speak more of him hereafter 1 , hut as I shall probably 
 have no farther occasion to mention the other two, I 
 might to observe here, that Watsor died a few yeara 
 after in iny arms. He was greatly regretted ; for ho 
 was the best of our society. Osborne wet to the is 
 lands where he gained considerable ceputati U) as a 
 barrister, and was getting money; but he died young. 
 
 * Probably the Punciad, where we find him thusimmor 
 talized by the author: 
 
 Silence ye wolves, while Ralph to Cynthia howls 
 And makes night hideous; answer him ye owls! 
 
50 Lire OF 
 
 We had seriously engaged, that whoever died firstf 
 should return, if possible, and pay a friendly visit to 
 the survivor, to give him an account of the other 
 world ; but lie has never fulfilled his engagement. 
 
 The Governor appeared to be fond of my company, 
 and frequently invited me to his house. He always 
 spoke of his intention of settling me in business, as a 
 po>,it that was decided. 1 was to take with me letters 
 of recommendation to a number of his friends ; and 
 particularly a letter of credit, in order to obtain tha 
 Biecessary f.um 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 oft to another day. 
 
 These successive delays continued till the vessel, 
 whose departure had been several times deferred, was 
 on the point cf setting sail ; when I again went to Sir 
 William s house, to receive my letters and take leave 
 of him. 1 saw his secretary, 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, de 
 termined to accompany me in this voyage. His ob 
 ject was supposed to be the establishing a corres 
 pondence with some mercantile houses, in order to 
 sell goods by commission : but I afterwards learned 
 that, having reason to be dissatisfied with the parents 
 of his wife, he proposed to himself to leave her on 
 their hands, and never return to America again. 
 
 Having taken leave of my friends, and interchang 
 ed promises of fidelity with Miss Read, I quitted 
 Philadelphia. At Newcastle, the vessel came to an 
 chor. The Governor was arrived, and I went to his 
 ixlgings. His secretary received me with great civil- 
 ty, 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. 1 returned, some 
 what astonished, to the ship, but still without enter 
 taining the slightest suspicion. 
 
 Mr, Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of PhJladol- 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 51 
 
 phia, had taken a passage to England for himself and 
 his son, and, in conjunction with Mr. Denham, a qua- 
 ker, and Messrs. Oniarn and Russel, proprietors of a 
 forge in Maryland, nan agreed for the whole cabin, so 
 that Ralph and I were obliged to take up our lodg 
 ing w. th the crew. Being unknown to every body in 
 ihe ship, we were looked upon as of the cornmor or 
 der of people : but Mr. Hamilton and his son (it was 
 Tames, who was afterwards governor) left us at New 
 castle, and returned to Philadelphia, where he was 
 recalled at a very great expense, to plead the cause oi 
 a vessel that had been seized ; and just as we were 
 about to sail, Colonel French came on board, and 
 showed me many civilities. The passengers upon 
 this paid me more attention, and I was invited, to 
 gether vith my friend Ralph, to occupy the place in 
 the cabin which the return of the Messrs. Hamiltons 
 had made vacant ; an oner 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 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 op 
 portunity of taking them out. I was satisfied with 
 this answer, and we pursued our voyage. 
 
 The company in the cabin were all very sociable, 
 and we were perfectly well off as to provisions, as 
 we had the advantage of the whole of Mr. Hamil 
 ton s, who had laid in a very plentiful stock. During 
 the passage, Mr. Denham contracted a friendship for 
 me, which ended only with his life: in other respects 
 the voyage was by no means an agreeable one, as w 
 had much bad weather. 
 
 When we arrived in the river, the captain was aj 
 goou as his word, and allowed me to search HI 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 1 selected six or seven, which I judged 
 from th direction to be those that were intended 
 for me ; particularly one to Mr. Basket, the King f 
 printer, >\nU another to a stationer, who was the firrt 
 3 
 
52 LIFB. OF 
 
 person I cabled upon. I delivered him the letter at 
 coming f<ron Governor Keith. " I have no acquaint 
 ance," said he, " with any such person;" and open 
 ing the lettsr, "Oh, it is from Riddlesden !" he ex 
 claimed. " I have lately discovered him to be a very 
 arrant bna^e, and wish to have nothing to do with 
 him or his letters." He instantly put the letter into 
 my hand, turned upon his heel, and left me, to serve 
 some customers. 
 
 1 was astonished at finding these letters were hot 
 from the Governor. Reflecting, and putting circum 
 stances together, I then began to doubt his sincerity, 
 I rejoined my friend Denham, and related the whole 
 affair to him. He let me at once into Keith s cha 
 racter, told me there was not the least probability 
 of his having written a single letter ; that no one who 
 knew him ever placed any reliance on him, and laugh 
 ed at my credulity in supposing that the Governor 
 would give me a letter of credit, when he had no 
 credit wr himself. As I showed some uneasiness res 
 pecting what step I should take, he advised me to try 
 to get employment h, the house of some printer. 
 ** You may there," said he, " improve yourself in 
 business, and you will be able to settle yourself the 
 more advantageously when you return to America." 
 We knew already as well as the stationer, attorney 
 Riddlesdun to be a knave. He had nearly ruined 
 the fatner of Miss Read, by drawing him in to be his 
 security. We learned from his letter, that he was 
 A secretly carrying on an intrigue, in concert with the 
 ^ Governor, to the prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, who, it 
 was supposed, would, by this time, be in Europe. 
 Denharr., who was Hamilton s friend, was of opinion 
 /hat he ought to bo made acquainted wi-th it ; and, in 
 reality, the. instant he arrived in England, which was 
 very eorm after, I waited on h>m, and as much from 
 good will to him, as from resentment against the Go- 
 vernor, put thrt lener into his hands. He thanked m 
 very sJncerely, the information it contained being of 
 consequence to him ; and from that moment bestow 
 ed on me his friendship, which afterwards proved, 
 on ma-^y occasions, serviceable to me. 
 Bui ivhat are we to think of a Governor who rwM 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 53 
 
 play so scurvy a trick, and thus grossly deceive a poor 
 young lad, wholly destitute of experience? It was a 
 practice with him. Wishing to please every body, and 
 having lijttle to 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 proprietaries, whose instruction* 
 he frequently disregarded. Many of our Lest law 
 were his work, and established during his administra 
 ion. 
 
 Ralph and I were inseparable companions. W 
 took a lodging together at three and sixpence a-week, 
 which was as much as we could afford. He met with 
 some relations in London, but they were poor, and nol 
 able to assist him. He now, for the first time, inform 
 ed 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 litile he had been 
 able to raise having barely sufficed for his passage. J 
 had still fifteen pistoles remaining; and to me he had 
 from time to time recourse, while he tried to get em 
 ployment. 
 
 At first believing himself possessed of talents for 
 the stage, he thought of turning actor; but WiJkes, to 
 whoik he applied, frankly advised him to renounce 
 the idea, as it was impossible he could succeed. He 
 next proposed to Roberts, a bookseller in Paternos 
 ter-row, to write a weekly paper in the manner of the 
 Spectator, upon terms to which Roberts would not lis 
 ten. Lastly, he endeavoured to procure employmml 
 as a copyist, and applied 10 the lawyers and stationers 
 about the Temple, but he could find no vacancy. 
 
 As to myself, J immediately got engaged at Palmer 1 ^ 
 at that time a noted printer in Bartholomew-close, 
 with whom 1 continued nearly a year. I applied very 
 assiduously to my work ; but 1 expended with Ralph 
 almost all that 1 earned. Plays, and other planes of 
 amusement, which we frequented together, having ex 
 hausted my pistoles, we lived after this from hand to 
 mouth. He appeared to have entirely forgotten his 
 wife and child, as 1 also, by degrees, forgot my en 
 gagements with Miss Read, to whom I never wrote 
 more than one letter, and that merely to inform her 
 
54 LIFE OF 
 
 that I was not likely to return soon. This wus art- 
 other grand eriorof my life, which I should be desir 
 ous of correcting were [ to begin my career again. 
 
 I \vas employed at Palmer s on the second edition 
 of Woolaston s Religion of Nature. Some of his ar 
 guments appearing to rne not to be well founded, I 
 wrote a small metapnysical treatise, in which I ani 
 mad verted on ihose passages. It was entitled a "Dis 
 sertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain. 
 ^dedicated it to my friend Ralph, and printed a smal 
 number of copies. Palmer, upon this, treated me with 
 move consideration, and regarded me as a ycrung 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 ac 
 quaintance with a bookseller of the name of Wilcox, 
 whose shop was next door to me. Circulating libra 
 ries were not then in use. He had an immense col 
 lection of books of all sorts. We agreed that, for a 
 reasonable retribution, ef which I have now forgotten 
 the price, I should have free access to his library, and 
 take what books 1 pleased, which I was to return 
 when I had read them, i considered this agreement 
 as a very great advantage ; and I derived from it as 
 much benefit as was in my power. 
 
 My pamphlet falling into the hands of a surgeon, 
 of the name of Lyons, author rf a book entitled, " In 
 fallibility of Human Judgment," was the occasion 
 of a considerable intimacy between 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 Fa 
 de of the Bees, who had instituted a club at a tavem 
 in Cheapside, of which he was the soul : he was a 
 facetious and very amusing character. He also in 
 troduced me, at Batson s coffee-house, to Dr. Pern- 
 berton, who promised to give me an opportunity of 
 teeing Sir Isaac Newton, which I very ardently de 
 sired ; but he never kept his \vord. 
 
 I had brought some curiosities with me from Ame 
 rica ; the principal of which was a purse made of 
 
DR. FfcANKLlN. 55 
 
 the asbestos^ which fire only purifies. Sir Hans Sloane 
 hearing of it, called upon me, and invited ne to his 
 house in Bloomstmry-square, where, after showing me 
 every tning that was cunous, he prevailed Qn 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. Li\ ely and sensible, and having received 
 an education somewhat above her rank, her conversa 
 tion was very agreeable. Ralph read pays to her 
 every evening. They became intimate. She took 
 another lodging, a..d be followed her. They lived for 
 some lime together ; but Ralph being without employ 
 ment, she having a child, and the profits of her busi 
 ness not sufficing for the maintenance of three, he re 
 solved to quit London, and try a country school. This 
 was a plan in which he thought himself likely to suc 
 ceed ; a? he wrote a fine band, and was versed in 
 arithmetic and accounts. But considering the office 
 as beneath him, arid expecting some day to make a 
 better figure in the world, when he-should be ashamed 
 of its b%ing known that he had exercised a profession 
 so little honourable, he changed his name, and did 
 me the honour of assuming mine, lie wrote to me, 
 soon after his departure, informing me that he was 
 settled at a small village in Berkeshire. In his 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, sending me 
 large fragments of an epic poem he was composing, 
 and which he requested me to criticise and correct. 
 I did so % but not without endeavouring to prevail on 
 him to renounce this pursuit. Young had just pub 
 lished one of his Satires. 1 copied and sent him a 
 great part of it ; in whir.h 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 con 
 tinued to arrive ever} - post. 
 
 Meanwhile Mrs. T*** having lost, on his account, 
 both iwr friends and business, was frequently in djs 
 
56 LlfcE OF 
 
 tress. In this dilemma she had recourse to me, and, 
 to extricate her from her difficulties, I lent her all the 
 money I could spare. I felt a little too much fond 
 ness for her. Having at that time no ties of religion, 
 and, taking advantage of her necessitous situation, I 
 attempted liberties (another error of my life,) which 
 she repelled with becoming indignation. She informed 
 Ralph of my conduct; and the affair occasioned a 
 breach between us. When he returned to London 
 lie gave me to understand that he considered all th 
 obligations he owed me as annihilated by this pro 
 ceeding ;^ whence I concluded that I was never to ex* 
 pect the payment of what money \ had lent him, or 
 advanced on his account. I was the less afflicted at 
 this, as he was wholly unable to pay me ; and as, by 
 losing his friendship, I was relieved at the same time 
 from a very heavy burden. 
 
 I now began to think of laying by some money, 
 The printing-house of Watts, near LincolnVinn- 
 tields, being a still more considerable one than that 
 in which 1 worked, it was probable 1 might find it 
 more advantageous to be employed there. ^1 offered 
 myself, and was accepted ; and in this house I con 
 tinued during the remainder of my stay in London. 
 
 On my entrance, I worked at first as a pressman, 
 conceiving that I had need of bodily exercise, to 
 which I had been accustomed in America, where the 
 printers work alternately as compositors and at the 
 press. I urarik nothing but water. The other work 
 men, to the number of about fifty, were great drinkers 
 of beer. I carried, 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 surprised 
 o see, by this, and many other examples* that the 
 American Aquatic, as they used to call me, wai 
 stronger than those who drank porter. The beer boy 
 ha.d sufficient employment during the whole day in 
 serving tha% 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 abomina- 
 
TO. FRANKLIN. 57 
 
 Die ; but he had need, he said, of all thii twr, in 01* , 
 der to acquire strength to work. 
 
 I endeavoured to convince him that the bodily 
 strength furnished by the beer, could only be in pro 
 portion to the solid part of the barley dissolved in the 
 water of which the beer was composed ; that there 
 was a larger portion of flour in a penny lor f, and that 
 consequently if he ate this loaf, and dranA a pint of 
 water with it, he would derive more strength from i 
 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 tnis cursed 
 beverage ; an expense from which I was wholly ex 
 empt. Thus do these poor devils contir ue all their 
 lives in a state of voluntary wretchedness and po 
 verty. 
 
 At the end of a few weeks, Watts having occasion 
 for me above stairs as a compositor, I quitted the 
 p/ess. The compositors demanded of me garnish- 
 money afresh. 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 tha fraternity. 1 
 was consequently looked upon as excomn unicated; 
 and whenever I was absent, no little trick that ma 
 lice could suggest was left unpractised upon me. I 
 found my letters mixed, my pages transposed, rny 
 matter broken, &c. &,c. all which was attributed to 
 the spirit that iiaunted the chapel,* and tormented 
 those that were not regularly admitted. I was at last 
 obliged to submit to pay, notwithstanding the protec 
 tion of the master ; convinced of the folly of not keep- 
 ng up a good understanding with those among whon 
 we are destined to live. 
 
 After this I lived in the utmost harmony with riy 
 fellow -labourers, and soon acquired considerable in 
 fluence among them. I proposed some alteration in 
 the laws of the chapel, which I carried without rnp~ 
 sitkm. My example prevailed with several of t 
 
 * Priming-houses in general are thus denominated by Uw 
 workmen : the t fir it they call by the name of lialfk. 
 
68 LIFE OF 
 
 to renounce their abominable practice of bread and 
 cheose with beer ; and they procured, like me, from 
 a neighbouring house, a good babi.n of warm gmeJ, 
 in which was a small slice of butter, with toast vl 
 bread and nutmeg. This was a much better brea^- 
 fast. which did not cost more than a pint of beer, 
 namely, three-halfpence, and at the same time pre 
 served the head clearer. Those who continued to 
 |,orge themselves with beer, often lost their credit with 
 Sic publican, from neglecting to pay their score. They 
 had then recourse to me, to become security for them-, 
 their light, as they used to call it, being out. 1 at 
 tended at the pay-table every Saturday evening, to 
 take up the little sum which I had made myself an- 
 iwerahle for; and which sometimes amounted to 
 nearly thirty shillings a week. 
 
 Iliis circumstance, added to my reputation of be- 
 big a tolerable good gabber, or, in other words, skilful 
 f\ Jie art of burlesque, kept up my importance in th 
 chapel. I had besides recommended myself to the 
 esteem of my rna? ,er by my assiduous application to 
 business, never observing Saint Monday. My extra 
 ordinary quickness in composing always procured 
 me such work as was most urgent, and which is com 
 monly best paid ; and thus my time passed awuy in 
 a very pleasant mariner. 
 
 My lodging, in Liitle Britain being too. far from the 
 printing-house, I took another in Duke-street, oppo 
 site the Roman Catholic chapel. It was at tlie back 
 of an Italian warehouse. The house was kept by a 
 widow, who bad a daughter, a servant, and a shop- 
 boy ; but the latter slept out of the house. After 
 sending to the people with whom I lodged in Little 
 Britain, to inquire into my character, she agreed to 
 take me in at the same price, three and sixpence a 
 week: contenting herself, she said, with so little, be 
 cause of the security she should derive, as they were 
 all women, from having a man lodger in the house. 
 
 She was a woman rather advanced in life, the 
 daughter of a clergyman. She had been educated a 
 Protestant; but her husband, whose memory she 
 highly revered, had converted he- to the Catholic re- 
 She had lived iu habits of intimacy with 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 53 
 
 persons of distinction ; of whom she knew various 
 anecdotes as far back as the time of Charles II. Be 
 ing subject to fits of the gout, which often confined 
 her to her room, she was sometimes disposed to sea 
 company. Her s was so amusing to me, that I was 
 glad to pass the evening with her as often as slve De 
 sired it. Our supper consisted only of half an a.i- 
 chovy a-piece, upon a slice of bread and butter, with 
 half a pint of ale between us. But the entertainment 
 was in her conversation. 
 
 The ea.ly hours I kept, and the little trouble 1 oc 
 casioned hi the family, made her loth to part with | 
 me ; and when I mentioned another lodging I had 
 found, nearer the printing-house, at t*"O shillings a- 
 week, which fell in with my plan of saving, she per 
 suaded 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 abodw in London, at 
 eighteen-pence a week. 
 
 In a garret of tne hou?e there lived, in a most re 
 tired manner, a lady, seventy years of age, of whom 
 I received the following account from my 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 becoming a nun ; but the climate 
 not agreeing with her constitution, she was obliged 
 to return to England, where, as there were no monas 
 teries, 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 he applied 
 to charitable uses, reserving to herself only twelve 
 pounds a year: and of this small pittance she gave a 
 part to the poor, living on watergruel, and never 
 making use of fire but to boil it. She had lived in 
 this garret a great many years, without paying ren 
 to the successive Catholic inhabits its that had kep 
 the house; who indeed considered her abode with 
 them as a blessing. A piiast came every day to con 
 fess her. " I have asked her," said my landlady, 
 u how, living as she did, she couid find so much em 
 ployment for a ccnfessor? To which she answered, 
 that it was impossible to avoid vain thoughts." 
 
 I was once permitted to visit her. She was choer 
 3 * 
 
60 LIFE OF 
 
 ful and polite, and her conversation agreeable. Her 
 apartment was neat: but the whole furniture con 
 sisted of a mattfess, a table, on which was a crucifix 
 and a book, a chair, which she gave me to sit on, and 
 ver the mantlepicce a picture of St. Veronica dis 
 playing her handkerchief, on which was seen die mi- 
 rcxulous impression of the face of Christ, winch she 
 explained to me with great gravity. Her countenance 
 was pale, but she had never experiei /?,ed sickneas ; 
 and I may adduce her as another proof how little ia 
 sufficient to maintain life and health. 
 
 At the printing-house, 1 contracted an intimacy 
 with a sensJole young man of the name of Wygate, 
 Jvho, as his parents were in good circumstances, had 
 received a better education than is common among 
 printers. He was a tolerable Latin scholar, spoke 
 French fluently, and was fond of reading. I taught 
 Vim, as w r ell as a friend oi his, to swim, by taking 
 Jliem twice oniy 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 Lollege, and Don Soltero s curiositie-s. On 
 our return, at the request of the company, whose cu 
 riosity Wygate had excited, I undressed myself, and 
 leaped into the river. I swam from near Chelsea th 
 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. Tliis sight occasioned much astonishment and 
 pleasure to Those to whom it was new. In my youth 
 1 took great delight in this exercise. I knew, and 
 could execute, ah the evolutions and positions of 
 Theveno 4 ; and 1 added to them some of my own 
 invention, in which I endeavoured to unite graceful 
 ness and utility. 1 took a pleasure in displaying them 
 all on this occasion, and was highly flattered with the 
 admiration they excited. 
 
 Wygate, besides his being desirous of perfecting 
 himself in this ar , was the more attached to me from 
 there being, in other repects, a conformity in our 
 tastes and studies. He at length proposed to me to 
 make the tour of Europe with him, maintaining our 
 se ves at the same time by woiking at our profession. 
 
DK. FRANKLIN. 61 
 
 vas on the point of consenting, when I mentioned 
 A to my friend, Mr. Denham, with whom I was glad 
 Sc* pass an hour whenever I had leisure. He dis 
 suaded me from the project, and advised me to think 
 of returning to Philadelphia, which he was about to 
 do himself. I must relate hi this place a trait of this 
 worthy maVs character. 
 
 He had formerly been in business at Bristol? but 
 failing, he compounded with his creditors, auu de 
 parted for America, where, by assiduous application 
 *s a merchant, he acquired in a few years a very con- 
 siderable fortune. Returning to England in the same 
 vessel with myself, as I Jiave related above, l.e in 
 vited all hiis old creditors to a least. When assem 
 bled, he thanked them for the readh^ess with which 
 they had received his small composition ; and, while 
 they expected nothing more than a simple entertain 
 ment, each found under his plate, when it cam* to be 
 removed, a draft upon a banker for the residue of hif 
 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 tore ; and he offered to take me 
 with him in the capacity of clerk, to keep his books, 
 in which he would instruct ire, copy letters, ar.d su 
 perintend the store. He added, that as soon as I had 
 acquired a knowledge of mercantile transactions, he 
 would improve my situation, by sending iv/s with a 
 cargo of corn and Hour to the American islands, ami 
 by procuring me other lucrative commissions ; so that, 
 with good management an<l econjomy, 1 might in tune 
 begin business with advantage for myself. 
 
 I relished these proposals. London began to tire 
 me ; the agreeable hour? 1 hacl passed at Philadelphia 
 presented themselves to my minu, and 1 wished KI 
 see them revive. J consequently engaged myself to 
 M.r. Denham, at a salary of fifty pounds a year. This 
 was indeed less than 1 earned as a composite), but 
 then I had a much fairer prospect. 1 took leave, 
 therefore, as 1 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. 
 Deuham to purchase goods, or* in packing tii T up, 
 
M, LIFE OP 
 
 or in expediting the workmen, c. &c. When every 
 thing, however, was on board, 1 had at last a few 
 days leisure. 
 
 During this interval, 1 wa? one day sent for by a 
 gentleman, whom I knew only by name. It was Sir 
 Wiiliam Wyndham. 1 went* to his house. He had 
 by seme means heard of my performances between 
 Chelsea and Blackfriars, and that I had taught thw 
 ar* V swimming to Wygate and another young man 
 in ttie course of a few hours. His two sons were on 
 fhe point of setting out on their travels; he was de 
 sirous that they should previously learn to swim, and 
 offered me a very liberal reward if 1 would undertake 
 to instruct them. They -were not yet arrived in town, 
 and the stay I should make was uncertain ; 1 could 
 not therefore accept his proposal. I was led, how 
 ever, to suppose from this incident, that if 1 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 offci 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 vviih one of the sons of Sir William Wynd 
 ham, then Lord Egremont. But let us not anticipate 
 events. 
 
 I thus passed about eighteen months in London, 
 working almost without intermission at my trade, 
 avoiding all expense on my own account, except go 
 ing now and then to the P a 3 r > suid. purchasing a few 
 books. But my friend Ralph kept me poor. He owed 
 me about twenty-seven pounds, which was so much 
 money lost: arid when considered as taken from my 
 little savings, was a very great sum. I had, notwith- 
 f*anding this, a regard for him, as he possessed many 
 amiabie qualities. But though I had done nothing 
 for myself in point of fortune, 1 had increased my 
 stock of knowledge, either by the many excellent 
 books I had read, or the conversation of learned and 
 literary persons with whom 1 was acquainted. 
 
 We sailed from Gravesend on the 23d of July, 
 1726. For tLiC incidents of my voyage I refer you to 
 ty Journal, where you will find all its circumstances 
 
DR. FRAJNKJL1N. 63 
 
 minutely related. We landed at Philadelphia on the 
 llth of the following October. 
 
 Keith had been deprived of his office of governor, 
 and was succeeded by Major Gordon. 1 met him 
 walking in the streets as a private individual. He 
 appeared a little ashamed at seeing me, but passed 
 on without saying ar<y thing. 
 
 1 should have been equally ashamed myself at 
 meeting Miss Read, had not her family, justly des 
 pairing of my return "after reading my letter, advised 
 her to give me up, anc! marry a potter, of the namo 
 of Rogers; to which she consented: but he never 
 made her happy, and she soon separated from him, 
 refusing to cohabit with him, or even bear his name, 
 on account of a report which prevailed, of his naving 
 another wife. His skill in his profession had seduced 
 Miss Read s parents; but he was as bad 9. subject as 
 he was excellent as a workman. He involved him 
 self 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 con 
 siderabl e house, in which he kept a shop, that was 
 well supplied with paper, aiH various other articles. 
 He had procured some new ly[:es, and a number oi 
 workmen ; among whom, however, there was not one 
 who was good for any thing ; and he appeared not to 
 want business. 
 
 Mr. Denham took a warehouse in W r ater-street, 
 where we exhibited our commodities. I applied my 
 self closely, studied accounts, and became in a short 
 time very expert in trade. We lodged and eat toge 
 ther. He was sincerely attached to me, and acted 
 towards me as if he had been my father. On my 
 side, I respected and loved him. My situation wa 
 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 
 rne off; I suffered terribly, and considered it as all 
 over with me, I felt indeed a sort of disappointment 
 when 1 found myself likely to recover, ana regretted 
 that 1 had still to experience, sooner or later, the 
 disagreeable scene ugain. 
 
64 Ltt E OF 
 
 I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham s disorder ; 
 but it was a tedious one, and lie 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 bo 
 at Philadelphia, advised me to return to my former 
 profession ; and Keimer offered me a very considcra 
 ble salary if I would underiake the management of 
 his printing-office, that he might devote himself en 
 tirely to the superintendence of his shop. His wife 
 and relations in I ondor had giv.en me a bad charac 
 ter of him ; and I was loth, for the present, to have 
 any cqncern with him. I endeavoured to get employ 
 ment as a clerk to a merchant ; but not readily find 
 ing a situation, I was induced to accept Keimer * 
 proposal. 
 
 The following were the persons I found in his print 
 ing-house. 
 
 Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thirty-five 
 years of age. He had bren brought up to husbandry, 
 was honest, sensible, had some experience, and was 
 fond of reading; but too much addicted to drinking. 
 
 Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke from 
 school, and of rustic education, with endowments 
 rather above the common order, and a competent por 
 tion of understanding and gayety; but a little idle. 
 Keimer had engaged these two at very low wages, 
 which he had promised to raise ever} three months a 
 shilling a week, provided their improvement in the 
 typographic art should merit it. This future increase 
 ofwages was the bait he had irade use of to ensnaro 
 them. Meredith was to work at the press, and Potti 
 to bind books, which h 7 ; ,iad engaged to teach them, 
 though he understood neither himself. 
 
 John Savage, an Irishman, who had been brought 
 up to no trade, and whose service, for a period of 
 four years, Keimer had purchased of the captain of 
 a ship. He was also to ^e a pressman. 
 
 George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time he 
 iad in like manner bought for four years, intending 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 65 
 
 him for a compositor. I shall speak more of nim pre 
 sently. 
 
 Lastly, David Harry, a country lad, who was ap 
 prenticed to nim. 
 
 I soon perceived that Keimer s intention, in engag 
 ing me at a price so much above what he was accus 
 tomed to give, was, that I might form all these raw 
 journeymen and apprentices, wlio scarcely cost him 
 any tiling, and who, being indentured, would, as soon 
 as they should be sufficiently instructed, enable hin 
 to do without me. 1 nevertheless adhered to my 
 agreement. I put the office in order, which was in 
 the utmost confusion, and brought his people, by de 
 grees, to pay attention to their work, and to execute 
 it iu a more masterly style. 
 
 Jt was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the con 
 dition of a purchased servant. He was not mr.re than 
 eighteen years of age ; and the following are the par 
 ticulars he gave me of himself. Born at Gloucester, 
 he. had been educated at a grammar-school, and had 
 distinguished himself among the scholars, by his su 
 perior style of actii>g, when they represented drama 
 tic performances. He was 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 Ox 
 ford, 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 hia 
 go\vn in a hedge, and travelled to London. There, 
 having no friend to direct him, he fell into bad com 
 pany, soon squandered his fifteen guineas, could find 
 no way of being introduced to the actors, became 
 contemptible, pawned his clothes, and was in want 
 of bread. As he was walking along the streets, almost 
 famished with hunger, and not knowing what to do, a 
 recruiting bill was put into his hand, which offered 
 an immediate treat and bounty-money to whoerer 
 was disposed to serve in America. He instantly re 
 paired to the house of rendezvous, enlisted himself, 
 was put on board a shun and conveyed to America, 
 
66 LIFE OF 
 
 without ever writing a line to inform bis parents what 
 was become of him. His mental vivacity, and good 
 natural disposition, made him an excellent compa 
 nion ; but lie was indolent, thoughtless, and to the 
 last degree imprudent 
 
 John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I began to 
 live very agreeably with the rest. They respected 
 me, and the more so as they found Keimer incapable 
 f instructing them, and as they learned something 
 roin me^ every day, We never worked on a Satur 
 day, it b*eing Keimer s sabbath ; so that I had two 
 days a-week for reading. 
 
 I increased my acquaintance with persons of know- 
 ledge and information in the town. Keimer himsell 
 treated ire with great civility and apparent esteem ; 
 and I had nothing to give me uneasiness, but my debt 
 to Vernon, which I was unable to pay, rr.y savings as 
 yet being very little. He had the goodness, however, 
 not to ask me for the money. 
 
 Our press was frequently in want of the necessary 
 quantity of letter; and thine was no such trade as 
 that of letter-founder in America. I had seen the 
 practice of this art at the house of James, in London; 
 but had, at the time, paid it very little attention. J 
 however contrived to fabricate a mould. I made usf 
 of such letters as we had for punches, founded new 
 letters of lead in matrices of clay, and thus supplied, 
 in a tolerable manner, the wants that were most 
 presLing. 
 
 I also, upon occasion, engraved various ornaments, 
 made ink, gave an eye to the shon ; in short, 1 was, 
 in every respect, the factotum. But useful as 1 made 
 myself, I perceived that n\y serv/ces became every 
 lay of less importance, in proportion as the other 
 rien improved; and when Keimer paid me my second 
 quarterns wagfis, he gave me to understand that they 
 v/ere too heavy, and that he thought 1 ought to make 
 an abatement. He became by degrees less civil, and 
 assumed more the tone of mabter. He frequently 
 found fault, was difficult to please, and seemed al 
 ways on the point of coming to an open quarrel with 
 me. 
 
 1 continued, however, to bear it patiently, conceiv- 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 67 
 
 ing that his ill-humour was partly occasioned by the 
 derangement and embarrassment of his affairs. At 
 last a slight incident broke our connexion. Hearing 
 a noise in the neighbourhood, I put my head out at 
 the window to sec 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 
 xvere uttered in the street ; and the neighbours, whom 
 the same noise had attracted to the windows, wero 
 witnesses of the,rnanner in which I was treated. He 
 immediately came up to the printing-room, and con 
 tinued to exclaim against me. The quarrel became 
 warm on both sides, and hs gave me notice to quit 
 him at the expiration of three months, as had been 
 agreed upon between- us ; regretting that he was 
 obliged to give me so long a term. I loid him that 
 his regret was superfluous, as I was ready to quit him 
 instantly ; and 1 took my hat and came out of the 
 house, begging Meredith to take care of some things 
 ivhicn 1 left, and bring them to my lodgings. 
 
 Meredith came to me in the evening. We talked 
 for some time upon the quarrel that had taken place. 
 He had conceived q great veneration for me, and was 
 sorry I should quit ihe house while he remained in it. 
 He dissuaded me from returning to my native coun 
 try, as 1 began to think of doing. He reminded me 
 that Keimer owed me more than he possessed : that 
 his creditors began to be alarmed ; that lie 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 oc 
 casion a vacancy from which 1 might derive advan 
 tage. I objected my want of money. Upon which 
 he informed me that his father had a very high opin 
 ion cf 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 i,,# ^rtnership with him. " My 
 lime with Keimer," rt tfcred he, " will be at an end 
 next spring. In the mean time we may send to Lon 
 don for our press am 1 ty^es. I know that I am no 
 
68 LIFE OF 
 
 workman ; but if you agree to the proposal, your 
 skill in the business will be balanced by the capital 1 
 shall furnish, and we will share the profits equally." 
 His proposal was seasonable, and I fell in with it. 
 His lather, who was then in the town, approved of 
 it. He knew that I had some ascendancy ovsr his 
 son, as I had been able to prevail on him to abstain 
 a long time from drinking brandy : and he hoped that, 
 when more closely connected with "him, I should cure 
 him entirely of this unfortunate habk. 
 
 I gave the father a list of what it would be necessa 
 ry to import from London. He took it to a merchant, 
 and the order was given. We agreed to keep the se 
 cret till tiie ariival of the materials, and I was in 
 the mean time to procure work, if possible, in another 
 printing-hcuse ; but there was no piace vacant, an l 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 en 
 gravings which I only could furnish, and fearful that 
 Bradford, by engaging me, might deprive him cf this 
 undertaking, sent me a very civil message, telling me 
 that old friends ought not to be disunited on account 
 of a few words, which were the effect only of a mo 
 mentary passion, and inviting me to return to him. 
 Meredith persuaded me to comply with the invitation, 
 particularly ar it would afford him more opportunities 
 of improving himself in the business by means of my 
 instructions. I did so ; and we lived upon better terms 
 than before our separation. 
 
 He obtained the New-Jersey business ; and, in or 
 der to execute it, I constructed a copper-plate ^printing- 
 press, the first that had been seen in the country. 1 
 engraved various ornaments and vignettes for the bills; 
 and we repaired to Burlington together, where I exe 
 cuted the whole to general satisfaction : and he receiv 
 ed 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 prhioid 
 
DR. FRANkLLV. 69 
 
 dian 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 their 
 friends, and treated me with the greatest civility; while 
 Keimer, though master, saw himself a little neglected 
 He was, in fact, a strange animal, ignorant of the com 
 mon modes of life, apt to oppose with ludeness gen 
 erally received 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, secre 
 tary of the province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, 
 several of the Smiths, all members of the Assembly, 
 and Isaac Decon, inspector-general. The last was a 
 shrewd, and subtle old man. He told me, that when 
 a boy, his first employment had been that of carrying 
 clay to brick-makers ; that he did not learn to write 
 lift he was somewnat advanced in life ; that he was 
 afterwards employed as an underling to a surveyor, 
 who taught him this trade, -?nd that by industry 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 Philadelphia." He was totally igno 
 rant at the time, of my intention of establishing my 
 self there, or any where else. These friends were 
 very serviceable to me in the end, as I was 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 impres 
 sions, and I received from my infancy a pious edu 
 cation in the principles of Calvanism. But scarcely 
 
JO LIFE OF 
 
 was I arrived at fifteen years of age, when, after ha 7 
 ing doubted m turn of different t&nets, according as t 
 found them combated in the different books that 1 
 read, I began to doubt of revelation itself. Some vo 
 lumes against deism fell into my hapds. They were 
 said to be the substance of sermons preached at 
 Boyle s Lecture. Jt happened that they produced on 
 me an effect precisely the reverse of what was in 
 tended by the writers : for the arguments of the deists, 
 which were cited in order to be refuted, appeared to 
 me much more forcible than the refutation itself. In 
 a word, I soon became a perfect deist. My argu- , 
 ments perverted some other young persons, particu- v 
 larly Collins and Ralph. But in the sequel, when I 
 recollected that they had both USCG. me extremely ill, 
 without the smallest remorse ; when I considered the 
 behaviour of Keith, another free-thinker, and my own 
 conduct 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 bngan to entertain a less favourable 
 opinion of my London pamphlet, to which J jiad pre 
 fixed, as a mottn, the ibllowing 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 ail above. 
 
 And of which the object v/as to prove, from the attri" 
 butes of God, his goodness, wisdom and power, that 
 there could be no such thing as evil in the world ; thar 
 vice and virtue did not in reality exist, and wen 
 nothing more than vain distinctions. I no longer re 
 garded it as so blameless a work as I had former!) 
 imagined ; and I suspected that some error must have 
 imperceptibly glided into my argument, by which all 
 the inferences 1 had drawn from it had beon affected, 
 as frequently happens in metaphysical reasonings. In 
 a word, I was at last convinced that truth, probity, 
 and sincerity, in transactions between man and man, 
 were of the utmost importance to the happiness of 
 jfe ; and I resolved from that moment, and wrote the 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. f 1 
 
 resolution in my Journal, to practise them as long at 
 J 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 pro 
 hibited because they were bad for us, or enjoined 
 because advantageous in their nature, all things con 
 sidered. This persuasion, Divine Providence, or sonia 
 guardian angel., and perhaps a concurrence of favour 
 able circumstances co-operating, preserved me from 
 all immorality, or gross and voluntary injustice, to 
 which my want of religion was calculated to expose 
 me, in the dangerous period of youth, and in the 
 hazardous situations in which I sometimes found my 
 self, among strangers, and at a distance from the eyo 
 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 inex- 
 
 nrience, or the dishonesty of others. Thus, before 
 entered on my own new career, I had imbibe*] solid 
 principles, and a character of probity. I knew their 
 value ; and I made a solemn engagement with my 
 self never to depart from them. 
 
 I had not long returned from Burlington before our 
 printing materials arrived from London. I settled 
 my accounts with Keimer, and quitted him, with his 
 own consent, before he had any knowledge of our 
 plan. We found a house to let near the market. We 
 look it ; and, to render the rent less bu: Jensome (it 
 was then twenty-four pounds a year, but. I have since 
 known it let for seventy), we admitted Thomas God-^ 
 frey, a glazier, with his family, who eased us of a 
 considerable part of it; and with him we agreed to 
 board. 
 
 We had no sooner unpacked our letters, and put 
 our press in order, than a person of my acquaintance, 
 George House, brought us a countryman, whom he 
 had met in the streets inquiring for a printer. OIIT 
 money was almost exhausted by the number of things 
 we had been obliged to procure. The five shillings 
 we received from tm s countryman, the first Quit of 
 
72 LIFE OF 
 
 our earnings, coming BO seasonably, gave me more 
 pleasure than any sum I have since gained ; and the 
 recollection of the gratitude I felt on this occasion to 
 George House, has rendered me often more disposed, 
 than perhaps I should otherwise have been, to encour 
 age 3 r oung beginners in trade. 
 
 There are iu every country morose beings, who are 
 always prognosticating ruin. There was one of this 
 stamp at Philadelphia. He was a man of fortune, 
 declined in years, had an air of wisdom, and a very 
 grave manner of speaking. His name was Samue* 
 Mickle. I knew him not ; but he stopped one day at 
 my door, and asked me if I was the young man who 
 had lately opened a new printing-house. Upon my 
 answering in the affirmative, he said that he was very 
 sorry for me, as it was an expensive undertaking, and 
 the money that had been laid out upon it would be 
 lost, Philadelphia being a place falling into decay ; its 
 inhabitants having all, or nearly all of them, been 
 obliged to call together their creditors. That he knew, 
 from undoubted fact, the circumstances which might 
 lead us to suppose the contrary, such as new build 
 ings, and the advanced price of rent, to be deceitful 
 appearances, which, in reality, contributed to hasten 
 the general ruin ; and he gave me so long a detail of 
 misfortunes, actually existing, or which were soon to 
 lake place, that he left me almost in a state of despair. 
 Had I known this man before I entered into trade, J 
 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, be^iuse all was going to wreck ; and, in the 
 end, I hau the satisfaction to see him pay five times 
 os much for one, as it would have cost him, had ho 
 purchased it when he first began his lamentations. 
 
 I ought to have related, that, during the autumn of 
 the preceding year, 1 had united the majority of well- 
 informed persons of my acquaintance, into a club, 
 which we called by the name of the Junto, and the 
 object of which was to improve our understandings. 
 We met every Friday evening. The regulations J 
 drew up, obliged eve ry member to propose, in hi> 
 turn, one or more questions upon some point of mo- 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 73 
 
 rality, politics, or philosophy, which were to be riis- 
 cussed by the society; and to read, once in three 
 months, an essay of his own composition, on what 
 ever subject he 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 disput 
 ing, and the vanity of triumph, having no share in 
 the business ; and in order to prevent undue warmth 
 every expression which implied obstinate adherence 
 o an opinion, and all direct contradiction, were pro 
 hibited, under small pecuniary penalties. 
 
 The first members of our club were Joseph Breint- 
 nal, whose occupation was that of a scrivener. He 
 was a middle-aged ?>ian, of a good natural disposi 
 tion, strongly auacneo to his friends, a great lover of 
 poetry, reading every thing that came in his way, and 
 writing tolerably well, ingenious in many little trifles, 
 and of an agreeable conversation. 
 
 Thomas Godfrey, a skilful, though self-taught ma 
 thematician, and who was afterwards the inventor of 
 what now goes by the name of Hartley s dial ; but lie 
 nad little knowledge out of his own line, and was ir- 
 supportable in company, always requiring, like the 
 majority of mathematicians that have fallen in my 
 way, an unusual precision in every thing that is said, 
 continually contradicting, or making trifling distinc 
 tions ; a sure way of defeating all the ends of con 
 versation. He very soon left us. 
 
 Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became, after 
 wards, surveyor-general. He was fond of books, and 
 wrote verses. 
 
 William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a shoe 
 maker, but who, having a t;\ste for reading, had ac 
 quired a profound knowledge of mathematics. Ha 
 first studied them with a view to astrology, and wai 
 afterwards the first to laugh at his folly. He also be 
 came surveyor-general. 
 
 William Mawgride, a joiner, and very excellent 
 Mechanic; and in other respects a man of solid im 
 lerstanding. 
 
 Hu^h Meredith, Stephen Potts, and George Webb, 
 f whom I have already spoken. 
 
 Robert Grace, a yo;mg man of fortune; genero is, 
 
74 LIFE OF 
 
 nnimated, and witty; fond of epigrams, but more 
 fond of his friends. 
 
 And, lastly, William Coleman, at that time a mer 
 chant 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 1 
 have ever met with. He became a very respectable 
 merchant, and one of our provincial judges. Oui 
 friendship subsisted, without interruption, for more 
 
 han forty years, till the period of his death ; and the 
 
 lub continued to exist almost as long. 
 
 This was the best school for politics and philosophy 
 that then existed in the province ; for our questions, 
 which were read once a week previous to their dis 
 cussion, 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 acquired the habit cf conversing more agree 
 ably; every object being discussed conformably to our 
 regulations, and in a manner to prevent mutual dis 
 gust. To this circumstance may be attriouted 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 procure work for 
 us. Breintnal, among others, obtained for us, on the 
 part of the quafcers, the printing of forty sheets of 
 their history; of which the rest was to be done by 
 Keimer. Our execution of this work was, by no 
 means, masterly; as the price was very low. It was 
 in folio, upon pro patria paper, and in the pica letter, 
 with heavy notes, in the smallest type. 1 composed 
 sheet a-day, and Meredith put it to the press. It 
 
 vas frequently eleven o clock at night, sometimes 
 
 ater, Defore I had finished my distribution for the 
 next day s task; for the little things which our friends 
 occasionally sent us, kept us back in this work : but 
 I was so determined to compose a sheet a-day, that 
 one evening, when my form was imposed, and my 
 day s work, as I thought, at an end, an accident hav 
 ing broken this foam, and deranged two complete folio 
 pages, I immediately distributed, and composed them 
 anew before I went to bed. 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 73 
 
 This unwearied industry, which was perceived by 
 our neighbours, began to acquire us reputation and 
 credit. I learned, among other things, that our new 
 printing-house, being tho subject of conversation at a 
 club of merchants, who met every evening, it way 
 the general opinion that it would fail; there being 
 already two printing-houses in the town, Keimer s 
 and Bradford s. But Dr. Bare!, whom you and I had 
 ccasion to see, many years after, at his native town 
 f St. Andrew s, in Scotland, was of a different optn- 
 on. " Tlt industry of this Franklin (said he) if 
 superior to any tiling of the kind I have ever \vit- 
 nessed. I t--e him still at work when I return from 
 the club at night, and he is at it again in the .noniing 
 before his neighbours 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 \ve wished 
 not, as yet, to embarrass oursel/es with keeping a 
 shop. It is not for the sake of applause that I en er 
 so freely into the particulars uf my industry, but thai 
 such of my descendants as shall rasd these memoes 
 may know the use "of this virtue, by seeing, in the re 
 cital of my life, the effects it operated in rny favour. 
 George Webb, liaving 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 coiT.d not employ him immediately ; but 1 1001- 
 ishly told him, under the rose, that I intended shortly 
 to publish a new periodical paper, and that we should 
 then have work for him. My hopes of success, which 
 I imparted to him, were founded on the circumstance, 
 that the only pai>cr we had in Philadelphia at that 
 time, and which Kr.vttbrd printed, was a paltry tiling, 
 miserably conducted, in no respect amusing, and 
 which yet was profitable. I consequently supposed 
 that a good work of this kind could not fail of suc 
 cess. Webb betrayed my secret to Reimer, who, to 
 prevent me, immediately published the prospectus 01 
 a pap-r that he intended to instiiute himself, and in 
 which Webb was to be engaged. 
 
 I was exasperated at this proceeding, and, witn a 
 Y>W to counteract them boiu able at present to 
 
76 LIFE OF 
 
 institute my own paps*-, I wrote some humorous pieces 
 in Bradford s, under the title of the Busy Body ,-* and 
 which was continued for several mouths by Breintnal. 
 I herehy fixed the attention of the public upon Brad 
 ford s paper; and the prospectus of Keimer, which 
 we turneu kito 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 to me for 
 a mere trifle. I had for some time been ready for 
 such an engagement ; I therefore instantly took it 
 upon myself, and in a few years it proved extremely 
 profitable to me. 
 
 I perceive that I am apt to speak in the first per 
 son, though our partnership still continued. It is, 
 perhaps, because, in fact, the whole business devolved 
 upon me. Meredith was no compositor, and brut an 
 indifferent pressman ; and it was rarely that he ab 
 stained from hard drinking. My friends were sorry 
 to see me connected with him ; but I contrived to de 
 rive from it the utmost advantage the case admitted. 
 
 Our first number produced no other effect than any 
 other paper which had appeared in the province, ai 
 to type and printing ; but some remarks, in my pecu 
 liar style ot writing, upon the dispute which then 
 prevailed between Governor Burnet and the Massa- 
 ;huseUs Assembly, stvuck some persons AS above me- 
 di, x rity, caused the paper and its editors to be talked 
 of, and, in a few weeks, induced them to become our 
 subscribers. Many others followed their example ; 
 and our subscription continued to increase. This 
 was one of the first good effects of the pains I had 
 aken to learn t> put my ideas o. \ paper. I derived 
 his farther advantage from it, thai ;he leading men 
 f the place, seeing in the author of this publicitioa 
 
 man so wrll able to use his pen, thought it jrifht to 
 patronise and encourage me. 
 
 The votes, laws, and other public pieces, were 
 printed by Bradford. An address of the House of 
 
 * A manuscript note in the hie ot iho American Mercury, 
 ,^erved ID the Philadelphia Horary, snys, that Franklin 
 wrolt the five first numbers. uuJ part of the eighth, 
 
DR. FRANKLLN. 77 
 
 Assembly to the Governor, had been executed by 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 influence of our friends in the 
 Assembly, that we were nominated its printer for tba 
 following year. 
 
 Among these friends. I ught not to forget one mem 
 ber in particular, Mr. Hamilton, whom I have men 
 tioned in a former part of my narrative, and who wat 
 now returned from England. He warmly interested 
 himself for me on this occasion, as he did likewise on 
 many others afterwards; having continued his kind 
 ness to me till his death. 
 
 About this period Mr. Vernon reminded mt of the 
 debt I oved him, but without pressing me for pay 
 ment. I wrote a hr\ndsome letter on the occasion, 
 begging h r.n to wait a little longer, to which he con 
 sented ; and as soon as I was able, 1 paid him prin 
 cipal and interest, with many expressions of gratitude ; 
 so that this error of my life was, in a manner, atoned 
 for. 
 
 But another trouble now happened to me, which 1 
 had not the smallest reason to expect. Meredith s 
 father, who, according to our agreement, was to de 
 fray 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, jud^ne.nt be put in execution, our de- 
 lig!/i*fu] hopes be annihilated, and ourselves entirely 
 urn "* as the type and press must be sold, perhapa 
 at half their vrJun, to pay the debt. 
 
 la this distress, two real fr *nds, whose generous 
 conduct 1 have never forgotten, aiiJ -".er shall for 
 get, while I retain the remembrance 01 a.. * ^i{* 
 came to me separately, without the knowledge ^ 
 each other, and without my having applied to eithei 
 of them. Each rfe<ed whatever money might b 
 necessary to take tne business into my own hands, 
 if the thing was practicable, as they did .vot like 1 
 
?a LIFE OF 
 
 should continue in partnership with Meredith, who, 
 they said, was frequently seen drunk in the streets, 
 and gambling at ale-houses, which very much in 
 jured our credit. These friends were William Cole- 
 man and Robert Grace. 1 told them, that while there 
 remained any probability that the Merediths would 
 fulfil their part of the compact, I could not propose 
 a separation, as I conceived myself to be under obli 
 gations to them for what they had done already, and 
 were still disposed to do, if they had the power; but, 
 m the end, should they fail in their engagement, and 
 our partnership be dissolved, 1 should then think my 
 self at. liberty to accept the kindness of my friends. 
 
 Tilings lemamed for s-o.ne time in this state. At 
 last, 1 said or.e day to my partner, " Your father is 
 perhaps dissatisfied with your having a shave only in 
 the business, and is unwilling to do for two, what ha 
 would do for you alone. Tell mo frankly, if that be 
 the case, and I will resign the whole to you, and do 
 for myself as well as f can." " No, (said he) my fa 
 ther lias really been disappointed in his hopes; he is 
 not able to pay, and 1 wish to put him to no farther 
 inconvenience. I see that 1 am not at all calculated 
 for a printer ; I wa? educated as a fanner, and it was 
 absurd in rne to como here, at thirty years of age, and 
 bind myself apprentice to a new trade. Many of my 
 countrymen are going to settle in North Carolina, 
 where the soil is exceedingly favourable. I am tempt- 
 ud to go with them, and to resume my forme/ occu 
 pation. You will, do uotiess, find friends who will 
 assist you. If you will take upon yourself the debts 
 of the partnership, 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 
 renounce the partnership, and consign over the whole 
 stock to you." 
 
 1 accepted this proposal without hesitation. It v/aa 
 committed to paper, dud signed and sealed without 
 uelay. i gave him what he demanded, and he de 
 parted soon after for Carolina, from whence he sen! 
 me, in the following year, two lon<; letters, containing 
 the best accounts that had yet been given of that 
 country, as to_ climate, soil, a.-$ri< ulture, &c. for h 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 79 
 
 was well versed in these matters. 1 published them 
 in my newspaper, and they were received with great 
 satisfaction. 
 
 As soon as he was gone, I applied to my two friends, 
 and not wishing to give a disobliging preference to 
 either of them, 1 accepted from each, half what he 
 had offered rne, and which it was necessary 1 shor./d 
 have. I paid the partnership debts, and continued 
 Ihe business on my own account; taking care to inform 
 the public, by advertisement, of the partnership be- 
 lig dissolved. This was, I think, in the year 1729, 
 ir thereabout. 
 
 Nearly at the same period, the people demanded a 
 oew emission of paper-money; the existing and only 
 tme that had taken place in the province, and whic > 
 amounted to fifteen thousand pounds, being soon to 
 xpire. The wealthy inhabitants, prejudiced against 
 every sort of paper currency, from the fear of its de 
 preciation, of which there had been an instance in 
 the province of New-England, to the injury of its 
 holders, strongly opposed this measure. We had dis 
 cussed tiiis 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 none much good 
 in the province, b*~ favouring commerce, industry, and 
 population, since all the liouses were now inhabited, 
 and many others building; ; whereas 1 remembered to 
 nave soen when I first paraded the streets of PJijla 
 delphia eatng my roll, the majority of those in Wai 
 nut-street, Second -street, Fourth-street, as well as a 
 great number in Chesnut and other streets, with pa 
 pers on them, signifying that they were to be let ; 
 which mnrle me think, at the time, that the inhabi- 
 ant? of the town were deserting it one after another. 
 
 Ou{ debates made me so fully master of the subject, 
 hat I tvrolo and published an anonymous pamplet, 
 entitled, " An Inquiry into the Nature and Necessity 
 of Paper Currency." It was very well received by 
 the Icwor and middling classes of people; but it dis- 
 pleasecJ the fip;ilent, as it increased the clamour in fa 
 vour of tho IVBW emission. Having, however, no wri 
 ter among them capable of answering it, their oppo- 
 *ition became less violent; and there being in tne 
 
SO LIFE OF 
 
 House of Assembly a majority for the measure, it 
 passed. The friends I had acquired in the House, 
 persuaded thai I had done the country essential ser 
 vice on this occasion, rewarded me by giving mo the 
 printing of the bills. It was a lucrative employment, 
 and proved a very seasonable help to me ; another 
 advantage which I derived from having habituated 
 myself to write. 
 
 Time and experience so fully demonstrated tha 
 utility of paper currency, that it never after expe 
 rienced any considerable opposition ; so that it soon 
 amounted to 55,00(M. and in the year 1739 to 80,000/. 
 It has since risen, during the last war, to 350,0001. 
 trade, buildings, and population, having in the inter 
 val continually increased : but I am now convinced 
 that there are limits beyond which paper money would 
 be prejudicial. 
 
 1 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, litilb 
 things appearing great to persons ol moderate fortune , 
 and they were really great to rne, as proving great en 
 couragements. He also procured me the printing of 
 the laws and votes of that government, which I re 
 tained as long as I continued in trie business. 
 
 I now opened a small stationer s shop. I kept 
 bonds and agreements of all kinds, drawn up in a 
 more accurate form than had yet been seen in that 
 part of the world ; a work in which 1 was assisted by 
 my friend Breintnal. 1 had also paper, parchment, 
 pasteboard, books, &c. One Whiternash, an excel 
 lent compositor, whom I had known in London, came 
 to ofter himself: I engaged him ; and he continued 
 constantly and diligently to work with me. I also 
 took an apprentice, the sen of Aquila Rose. 
 
 I began to pay, by degrees, tha debt I had contract 
 ed; and, in order to insure my credit and charactei 
 as a tradesman, I took care not only to be really in 
 dustrious and frugal, but also to avoid every appear 
 ancc of the contrary, I was plainly dressed, and 
 never seen in any pla *3 of public amusement. I 
 never went a fishing or hunting. A book, indeed, en 
 ticed me sometimes from my work, but it was seldom, 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 81 
 
 oy stealth, and occasioned no scandal ; and, to show 
 ihat I did not think myself above my profession, 1 
 conveyed home sometimes in a wheelbarrow, the pa 
 per I had purchased at the warehouses. 
 
 I thus obtained the reputation of being an indus 
 trious young man, and very punctual in his payment 
 The merchants, who imported articles of stations* Y. 
 colicited my custom ; others offered to furnish me w?U 
 books, and my little trade went on prosperously. 
 
 Meanwhile, the credit and business of Keimer di 
 minishing every day, he was at last forced to seil his 
 stock to satisfy his creditors ; and he betook himself 
 to Barbndoes, where he lived for some time in a ver} 
 impoverished state. His apprentice, David Harry, 
 whom 1 had instructed while I worked with Keimer, 
 having bough? his materials, succeeded him in the bu 
 siness. I was apprehensive, at first, of fmd u.g m 
 Harry a powerful competitor, as he was ai ied to an 
 opulent and respectable family ; 1 therefore proposed 
 a partnership, which, happily for me, he rejected with 
 disdain. He was extremely proud, thought himself 
 a fine gentleman, lived extravagantly, and pursued 
 amusements which suffered him to be scarcely ever at 
 home ; of consequence he became in debt, neglected 
 his business, and business negbcted him. Fh.ding in 
 a short time, nothing to do in the cour^ry he followed 
 Reimer to Barbadoes, carrying his printing materials 
 with him. There the apprentice employed 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 husbandry in Pennsylvania. 
 The person who purchased them, employed Keimer 
 fo manage the husiness : but he died a few years after 
 
 I had now at Philadelphia, no competitor but Brad 
 ford, who, being in easy circumstances, did not engage 
 in tlie printing of books, except now and then as 
 workmen chanced to offer themselves ; and was not 
 anxious to extend his trade. He had, however, ono 
 advantage over me, as he had tiie direction of tho 
 post-office, and was, of consequence, supposed to have 
 better opportunities of obtaining news. His pa-per 
 was also supposed to be more advantageous to adver 
 
W UFE OF 
 
 tising customers ; and, ir. consequence of that suppo 
 sition, bis advertisements were mucn more numerous 
 than mine: this was a source of great profit to him, 
 aiul disadvantageous to me. It was to no purpose 
 that I really p/ocured other papers, and distributed 
 my own, by mean? of the post ; and th3 public took 
 for granted, my inability in this respect; and I was 
 indeed, unable to conquer it in any other mode thax 
 by bribing the post-hoys, who served me only h} 
 stealth, Bradford heing so illiberal as to forbid them 
 This treatment of his excited my resentment ; and 
 my disgust was so rooted, that, when I afterwards 
 succeeded him in the post-office, I took care to avoid 
 copying his exavpple. 
 
 I had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey, 
 who, with his wife and children, occupied part of my 
 hoase, and half of the shop for his business ; at which, 
 indeed, he winked very little, heing 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 to 
 gether, tiU she saw that 1 was captivated ; which was 
 not difficult ; the lady in question possessing great 
 personal mer t. The parents encouraged my ad 
 dresses, by inviting m n , continually to supper, and 
 leaving us to^et.ter, 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 ex 
 pected to receive with the young lady, a sum of mo 
 ney that would enable rnej at least, *to discharge the 
 remainder of the debt for my punting 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. J observed that it might easily 
 be obtained, by a mortgage on their house. The re 
 ply to this, was, after a few days interval, that, they 
 did not approve of the match ; that they had con 
 sulted Branibrd, and found that the business of a 
 printer was not lucrative; that my letters would soon 
 be worn out, and must be supplied Ly new ones : that 
 Keimer and Harry had failed, and that, probably, I 
 should do so too. Accordingly they forbade me the 
 house, and the youug lady was confined. I know 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 83 
 
 not if they had really changed their minds, or if it 
 was merely an artifice, supposing our afifections 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, sus 
 pecting this motive, I never went again to their house. 
 
 Some time after, Mrs. Godfrey informed me that 
 they were favourably disposed toward me, and wish 
 ed me to renew the acquaintance ; but I declaied a 
 firm resolution never to have any thing more to do 
 frith the family. The Godfreys expressed some re 
 sentment at this ; and as we could no longer agree, | 
 they changed their residence, leaving me in posses 
 sion of the whole house. I then resolved to take no 
 more lodgers. This affair having turned my thoughts 
 to marriage, 1 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 wile, at least, if 1 wished her to possess any othei 
 charm. Meanwhile, that passion of youth, &o diffi 
 cult to govern, had often drawn me into intrigues with 
 despicable women who fell in my way; which were 
 not unaccompanied with expense and inconvenience, 
 besides thi? perpetual risk of injuring my health, and 
 catching a disease which 1 dreaded above all thugs. 
 But 1 was fortunate enough to escape this danger. 
 
 Asa neighbour and old acquaintance, 1 had kept 
 un a friendly intimacy with the family of Miss R^ad. 
 Her parent? had retained an affection for me front Jit 
 time* ot my lodging in their house. I was often in- 
 vited il.ither; they consulted me about their affairs, 
 and I had been sometimes serviceable to them. 1 was 
 touched with the unhappy situation of their (laugh 
 er, who was almost always melancholy, and continu 
 ally seeking solitude. J regarded my forgetfulness anA 
 inconstancy, during n\y abode in London, as the prin 
 cipal part of her misfortune, though her mother had 
 the candour to attribute the fault to herself, rathei 
 than to me, Iwcause, ufier having prevented our mar. 
 riage previously to my departure, sne had induced 
 bei to many another in my absence. 
 
 Our mutual affection revived; but there existed 
 4 * 
 
84 LIFE OF 
 
 great obstacles to our union. Her marriage was cor. 
 sidered, indeed, as not being valid, the man having, 
 it was said, a former wife still living in England ; but 
 of this it was difficult to obtain a proof At so great a 
 distance ; and though a report prevailed of his being 
 dead v yet we had no certainty of it; and, supposing 
 it to be true, he had left many debts, for tho payment 
 of which his successor might be sued. We ventured, 
 nevertheless, in spite of all these difficulties ; and I 
 married her on the 1st of September, 1730. None of 
 the inconveniences we had feared, happened to us. 
 She proved to me a gooJ and faithful companion, 
 ftnd 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 ta 
 vern. We held our meetings at the house of Mr. 
 Grace, who appropriated a room to the purpose. 
 Some member observed, one day, that as our books 
 were frequently quoted in the course of our discus 
 sions, it would be convenient to have them collected 
 in the room in which we assembled, in order to be 
 consulted upon occasion , and that, by thus forming a 
 common library of our individual collections, each 
 jvould have the advantage of using the books of all 
 the other members, which would nearly be tho same 
 as if he possessed them all himself. The idea was 
 approved, and we accordingly brought such books as 
 we tnought we could spare, which were placed at the 
 end of the club-room. They amounted not to so ma- 
 Ay as we Expected; and though we made considera 
 ble use of them, yet some inconveniences resulting, 
 from want of care, it was agreed, after about a year, 
 to discontinue the collection ; and each took away 
 .tucn books as belonged to him. 
 
 It was now that I first started the idea of establish 
 ing, by subscription, a public library. 1 drew up tle 
 proposals, had them engrossed in form by Brockden, 
 Me attorney, and my project succeeded, as will be 
 .er. in the sequel. ********** 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. *fr 
 
 [The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himsolf, so 
 far as it has yet been communicated to the .vorld, 
 breaks off in this place. We, understand that t was 
 continued by him somewhat farther, and wp hopts 
 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, aud tha 
 philosophical discernment by which these pages ara 
 so eminently characterized. We have therefore thouglc 
 proper, in oider, as much as possible, to relieve hia 
 regret, to subjoin the following continuation by oni . 
 of the Doctors intimate friends. Jt is extracted from 
 an American period ica.1 publication, and was written 
 by die late Dr. Stuber,* of Philadelphia. 
 
 * Dr. Stuber was born in Philadelphia, of German parents 
 He was sent, at an early age, to the university, where hi* 
 genius, diligence, aud amiable temper, soon acquired him 
 the particular notice and favour of those under whose im 
 mediate direction he was placea. After parsing through 
 the common course cf study, in a much shorter tirae tnan 
 usual, he left the university, at the age of sixteen, with great 
 reputation. Not long after, he entered on the study of phy 
 sic ; tnd the zeal with which he pursued it, and the ad- 
 rances he made, gavs his friends reason to form the most 
 
 ewer them. He therefore relinquished it, after he had ob 
 tained a degree in the profession, and qualified himself to 
 practice with ciedit and success ; and immediately entered 
 on the study of the lav/. While in pursuit of the last men 
 tioned object, he xvas prereoted, by a prem&ture death, from 
 raping the fruit of those talents with which he sra* en 
 dowed, and of a youth spent in the ardent aid successful 
 pursuit of useful aod elegant literature. 
 
UFE OF 
 
 THE promotion of literature had been little at 
 tended to in Perm sylvan la. Most of the inhabitants 
 were too much immersed in business to think of sci- 
 cnt fic pursuits; and those few, whose inclinations 
 led t .<em to study, found it difficult fo gKU.ify them, 
 from the want of libraries sufficiently largo. In such 
 circumstances, the establishment of a public library 
 was an important event. This was first set on foot 
 by Franklin, about the year 1731. Fifty persons 
 subscribed forty shillings each, and agreed to pay 
 ten shillings annually. The number increased ; and 
 in 1742, the company was incorporated by the name 
 of " The Library Company of Philadelphia." Se 
 veral other companies were formed in this city m 
 imitation of it. These were all at length united with 
 the Library Company of Philadelphia, which thus re 
 ceived a considerable accession of books and property. 
 it now contains about eight thousand volumes on ail 
 subjects, a philosophical apparatus, and a well-chosen 
 Collection of natural and* artificial curiosities. For 
 its support, the Company now possessed landed pro. 
 petty of considerable value. They have lately built 
 an elega.nl house in Fifth-street, in the front of which 
 will be erected a marble statue of their founder, Ben 
 jamin Franklin. 
 
 ? This institution was greatly encouraged by the 
 friends of literature in America and in Great Britain. 
 The Perm family distinguished themselves by their 
 donations. Amongst the earliest friends of this insti 
 tution, must be mentioned, the late Peter Collinson 
 file friend and companion of Dr. Franklin. He no 
 only made considerable presents himself, and obtain 
 ed others from his friends, but voluntarily undertook 
 to manage the business of the Company in Lcndon, 
 recommending books, purchasing and shipping them. 
 His extensive knowledge, and zeal for the promotion 
 f science, enabled him to execute this important 
 trust with the greatest advantage. He continued to 
 ptribrm these services for more than thirty years, and 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. . 87 
 
 uniformly refused to accept of any compensation. 
 During this time, he communicated to the directors 
 -very information relative to improvements and dis 
 coveries in the arts, agriculture, and philosophy. 
 
 The beneficial influence of this institution was soon 
 evident. The terms of subscription to it were so mo 
 derate, that it was accessible to ever) one. Its advan 
 tages were not confined to the opulent. The citizens 
 in the middle and lower walks of life were equally 
 partakers of them. Hence a degree of information 
 was extended amongst all classes of people. The 
 example was soon followed. Libraries were estab 
 lished m various places, and they are now become 
 very numerous in the United States, and particularly 
 in Pennsylvania. It is to be hoped that they will be 
 still more widely extended, and that information will 
 be every where increased. This will be the best se 
 curity for maintaining our liberties. A nation of well- 
 informed men, who have been taught to know and 
 prize ihe rights which God has given them, cannot be 
 enslaved. It is in the regions of ignorance that ty 
 ranny rc ; gns. It flies before the light of science. Let 
 the citizens of America, then, encourage institutions 
 calculated to diffuse knowledge amongst people ; and 
 amongst these, public libraries are not the least im- 
 por*.ant. 
 
 In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Richard s 
 Almanac. This was lemarkable 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 tha 
 last year, all the maxii;s were collected in an address 
 lo the reader, entitled, " The Way to Wealth." This 
 has been translated into vai ious languages, and in 
 serted in difieient publications. It has also been 
 printed on a large sheet, and may be seen framed in 
 many houses in this city. Tliis address contains, 
 perhaps, the best practical system of economy that 
 ever has appeared. It is written in a manner intelli 
 gible to every one, and which cannot fail of convinc 
 ing every reader of the justice and propriety of the 
 remarks and advice which it contains. The demand 
 for this almanac was so great, that ten thousand 
 
83 LIFE OF . 
 
 Uave been sold in one year ; which must be consi 
 twred as a very large number, especially when we re* 
 fleet, that this country was, at that time, but thinly 
 peopled. It cannot be doubted that the salutary 
 maxims contained in these almanacs must have 
 made a favourable impression upon many of the rea 
 ders of them. 
 
 It was not long before Franklin entered upon his 
 political career. In the year 1 736, he was appointed 
 clerk to the general assembly of Pennsylvania ; and 
 was re-elected by succeeding assemblies for several 
 years, until he was chosen a representative for the 
 city of Philadelphia. 
 
 Bradford was possessed of some advantages over 
 Franklin, by being post- master, thereby having an op 
 portunity of circulating nis paper more extensively, 
 and thus rendering it a better vehicle for advertise 
 ments, &c. Franklin, in his turn, enjoyed these ad 
 vantages, by being appointed post-master of Philadel 
 phia, in 1737. Bradford,- while in office, had acted 
 ungenerously toward Franklin, preventing, as much 
 as possible, the ci ;ulation of his paper. He had now 
 an opportunity 01 retaliating; but nis nobleness of 
 soul prevented him from making use of it. 
 
 The police of Philadelphia had early appointed 
 watchmen, whose duty it was to guard the citizens 
 against the midnight robber, and to give an immediate 
 alarm in case of fire. This duty is, perhaps, one of 
 the most important that can be committed to any set 
 of men. The regulations, however, were not suffi 
 ciently strict. Franklin saw the dangers arising from 
 this cause, and suggested an alteration, so as to oblige 
 the guardians of the night to be more watchful ovei 
 the lives and property of the citizens. The propriety 
 of this was immediately perceived, and a reform was 
 effected. 
 
 There is nothing more dangerous to growing cities 
 than fires. Other causes operate slowly, and almost 
 imperceptibly ; but these, in a moment, render abor 
 tive the labours of ages. On this account there should 
 be, in all cities, ample provisions to prevent fires from 
 spread big. Franklin early saw the necessity of these ; 
 and, about the year 1738, formed the first fire coin- 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 89 
 
 nany in this city. This example was soon followed 
 by others ; and there are now numerous fire compa- 
 n4es in the city and liberties. To these may be attri 
 buted, in a great degree, the activity in extinguishing 
 fires., for which the citizens of Philadelphia are dis 
 tinguished, and the inconsiderable damage which this 
 city has sustained from this cause. Son.e time after 
 Franklin suggested the plan of an association for in 
 suring houses from losses by fire, which was adopted, 
 and the association continues to this day. The ad 
 vantages experienced from it have been great. 
 
 From the first establishment of Pennsylvania, a 
 spirit of dispute appears to have prevailed amongst 
 its inhabirants. During the life-time of William Penn, 
 the constitution had been three times altered. After 
 fhis period, the history of Pennsylvania is little elso 
 iian a recital of the quarrels between the proprieta 
 ries, or their governors, and the Assembly. The pro 
 prietaries contended for the right ol exempting their 
 lands from taxes; to which :he Assembly would by 
 no means consent. This subject of dispute interfered 
 in alnuost every question, and prevented the most sa- 
 iutaiy laws from being enacted. This, at times, sub 
 jected the people, to great inconveniences. In the 
 year 1 744, during a war between France and Great 
 Britain, some French and Indians had made inroads 
 upon the frontier inhabitants of the province, who 
 were unprovided for such an attack. It became ne 
 cessary that the citizens should arm for their defence. 
 Governor Thomas recommended to the Assembly, 
 who were then sitting, to pass a militia law. To thi 
 ihey would agree, only upon condition that lie should 
 give his assent to certain laws, which appeared tc 
 them calculated to promote the interests of the peo 
 ule. As lie thought these laws would be injurious t 
 the proprietaries, ho refused his assent to them ; and 
 the Assembly broke up without passing a militia law. 
 The situation of the province was, at this time, trulj 
 al-urning ; exposed to the continual inroad of an ene 
 my, destitute of every means of defence. At this 
 irisis, Franklin stepped forth, and proposed to a 
 meeting of tlie citizens of Philadelphia, a plan of a 
 voluntary association for the defence of the province 
 
90 LIFE OF 
 
 This was approved of, and signed by twelve hundred 
 
 (>ersons immediately. Copies were instantly circu- 
 ated throughout the province ; and, in a short time, 
 the number of signers amounted to ten thousand. 
 Franklin was chosen colonel of the Philadelphia re 
 giment; but he (? .! not think proper to accept of the 
 honour. 
 
 Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the 
 greatest part of his attention for some years. He en 
 gaged in a course of electrical experiments, with al 
 the ardour and thirst, for discovery which character 
 izcd the philosophers of that day. Of all the branches 
 of experimental philosophy, electricity had been least 
 explored. The attractive power of amber is men 
 tioned by Theoplirastus and Pliny, and from them, by 
 later naturalists. In the year 1600, Gilbert, an Eng 
 lish physician, enlarged, considerably, the catalogue 
 of substances which have the property of attracting 
 light bodies. Boyle, Otto Cucricke, a burgomaster of 
 Magdeburg, celebrated as the inventor of the air- 
 
 Eurnp, Dr. Wall, and Sir Isaac Newton, added some 
 icts. Guericke first observed the repulsive power 
 of electricity, and the light and noise produced by it. 
 In 1709, Hawkesbec communicated some important 
 observations and experiments to the world. F or se 
 veral years, electricity was entirely neglected, until 
 Mr. Grey applied himself to it, in 1728, with great as 
 siduity. He and his friend, Mr. Wheeler, made a great 
 variety of experiments; :n which they demonstrated, 
 that electricity may be communicated from one bod) 
 to another, even without buing in contact, and in thit 
 way,may be conducted to a great distance. IVlr. Grej 
 ftenvards found, That, by suspending rods of iron oj 
 elk or hair lines, and bringing an excited tube undo 
 them, sparks might be drawn, and a iijiht perceived 
 at the extremities in the dark. M. Du Faye, inlen 
 dant of the French king s gardens, made a numbef 
 of experiments, which idded not a little to the science 
 He marie the discoverv of two kinds of electricity, 
 which he called vitreous and resinous; the formes 
 produced by rubbing glass, the latter from pelted 
 culphur, sealing-wax, <fec. But this idea he after 
 wards gave up as erroneous. Between the years 1 739 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 91 
 
 and 1742, Dcsauguliers made a number of experi 
 ments, but added little of importance. He first used 
 the terms conductor* : and electrics per se. In 1742, 
 several ingenious Germans engaged in this subject; 
 of these the principal were, professor Boze, of Wit- 
 temberg, professor Winkler, of Leipsic, Gordon, a 
 Scotch Benedictine monk, professor of philosophy at 
 Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf, of Berlin. The result of their 
 researches astonished the philosophers of Europe. 
 Their apparatus was large, and by means of it they 
 \vere enabled to collect large quantities of the electric 
 fluid, and thus to produce phenomena which had been 
 hitherto unobserved. They killed small birds, and 
 
 phia, an account of these experiments, together with 
 a tube, and directions how to use it. Franklin, vrith 
 some of his friends, immediately engaged in a course 
 of experiments ; the result of which is well known. 
 He was enabled to make a number of important disco 
 veries, and to propose theories to account for various 
 phenomena, wmch have been universally adopted, 
 and which bid fair to endure for ages. His obser 
 vations he communicated, in a series of letters, to 
 his friend Coliinsou ; the first of which is dated 
 March 23, 1747. In these he shows the power of 
 points in drawing and throwing off the electrical 
 matter, which had hitnorto 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 elec 
 tricity. .We give him the honour of this, without 
 hesitation; although the English have claimed it for 
 their countryman, Dr. Waison. Watson s paper is 
 dated January 21, 1748; Franklin s, July 11, 1747; 
 several months prior. Shortly after, Franklin, from 
 his principles of the plus and minus stale, explained, 
 in a satisfactory manner, the phenomena of the Ley- 
 den phial, firet observed by Mr. Cuneus, or by pro 
 fessor Muschenbroeck, of Leyclen, which had much 
 perplexed philosophers. He showed clearly, that the 
 bottle, when charged, contained no more electricity 
 than before, but that as much was taken from ono 
 
92 LIFE OF 
 
 side as was thrown on the other ; and that, to dis 
 charge it, nothing was necessary but to produce a 
 communication between the two sides by which the 
 equilibrium might be restored, and that then no signs 
 of electricity would remain. He afterwards demon 
 strated, by experiments, that the electricity did not re- 
 gide 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 1 749, he first suggested his idea of explaining 
 the phenomena of thundergusts, and of the aurora- 
 borealis, upon electrical principles. He points out 
 many particulars in which lightning and electricity 
 agree ; and he adduces many tacts, and reasonings 
 from facts, in support of his positions. In the same 
 year he conceived the astonishingly bold and grand 
 idea of ascertaining the truth of his doctrine, by ac 
 tually drawing down the lightning, by means of sharp 
 pointed iron rods raised into the region of the clouds. 
 Even in tlris uncertain state, his passion to be useful 
 to mankind displays itself in a powerful manner. Ad 
 mitting trm identity of electricity and lightning, and 
 knowing the power of points in repelling bodies charged 
 with electricity, and in conducting their fires silently 
 and imperceptibly, h 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 elevated part, and descend some feet 
 into the ground or the water. The effect of these, ho 
 concluded, would be either to prevent a stroke, by re 
 pelling the cloud beyond the striking distance, or by 
 drawing oft the electrical lire which it contained ; 01^ 
 if they could not effect this, they would et least con 
 duct the electric matter to the earth, without any in 
 jury to the building. 
 
 It was not until the summer of 1 752, that he was 
 enabled to complete his grand and unparalleled dis 
 covery by experiment. The plan which he had ori 
 ginally proposed, was to erect on some high tower, ot 
 other elevated place, a sentry-box, from which should 
 rise a pointed iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a 
 cake of resin. Electrified clouds passing over this, 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 3 
 
 would, he conceived, impart to it a portion of their 
 electricity, which would be rendered evident to the 
 tenses by sparks being emitted, when a key, the knuckle, 
 ir oilier conductor, was presented to it. Philadelphia 
 
 it this time afforded no opportunity of trying an ex 
 periment 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 mea.is 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 stick was affixed an iron point. The string 
 was, as usual : of hemp, except tne lower end, which 
 was silk. Where the hempen string terminated, a key 
 was fastened. With tkis apparatus, on the appear 
 ance of a thundcrgust approaching, lie went out into 
 the commons, accompanied by his son, to whom alone 
 he commun cated his intentions, well knowing the rid 
 icule which, too generally for the interest of science, 
 awaits unsuccessful experiments in philosophy. He 
 placed himscU under a shade, to avoid the rain his 
 kite was raised a thunder-cloud passed over it no 
 sign of -electricity appeared. 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 received a 
 strong spark. How exquisite must his sensations have 
 been at this moment ! On this experiment depended 
 Ihe fate of his theory. If he succeeded, his name 
 would ranK high among those who had improved 
 science : if he failed, he must inevitably be subjected 
 to the derision of mankind, or, what is worse, their 
 pity, as a well-meaning man, but a weak, silly projector. 
 The anxiety with which he looked for the result of his 
 experiment, may be easily conceived. Doubts and 
 despair had begun to prevail, when the fact was ascer 
 tained in so clear a manner, that even the most incre 
 dulous could no longer withhold theirassent. Repeated 
 sparks were drawn from the key, a phial was charged, 
 a shock g ven, and all the experiments made which 
 are usually performed with electricity. 
 
 About a month before this period, some ingenious 
 Frenchman had completed the discovery in themau* 
 
94 LIFE OF 
 
 ner originally proposed by Dr. Franklin. The letters 
 which he sent to Mr. Collmson, it is said, were refused 
 a place in the Transactions of the Royal Society of 
 London. However this may be, Collinson published 
 them in a separate volume, under the title of " New 
 Experiments and Observations on Electricity, made at 
 Philadelphia, in America," They were read with 
 avidity, and soon translated into different languages. 
 A very incorrect French translation fell into the hands 
 of the celebrated Bulfon, who, notwithstanding the 
 disadvantages under winch the work laboured, was 
 much pleased with it, aivi repeated the experiments 
 with success. He prevailed on his friend, M. D Ali- 
 bard, to give his countrymen a more correct transla 
 tion of the works of the American electrician. This 
 contributed much towards spreading a knowledge of 
 Franklin s principles in France. The king, Louis 
 XV. hearing of these experiments, expressed a wish 
 to be a spectator of them. A course of experiments 
 was given at the seat of the Due D Ayen, at St. Ger 
 main, by M. de Lor. The applauses vhioh the King 
 bestowed upon Franklin, excited in Button, D Alibard, 
 and De Lor, an earnest desire of ascertaining the truth 
 of his theory of thundergust. Buffon erected his ap 
 paratus on the tower of Montbar, M. D Alibard at 
 Mary-la- ville, and De Lor at his house in the Estra- 
 padt at Paris, some of the highest ground in that capi 
 tal. D Alibard s machine first showed signs of elec 
 tricity. On the 10th of May, 1752, a thunder-cloud 
 passed over it, in the absence of M. D Alibard, and a 
 number of sparks were drawn from it by Coiflier, 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 tha 
 Royal Academy of Sciences, by M. D Alibard, in a 
 Memoir, dated May 13th, 1752. On the 18th of May, 
 M. de Lor proved equally successful with the appara 
 tus erected at his own house. These philosophers 
 soon excited those of other parts of Europe to repeat 
 the experiment, among 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 ardour for 
 
DR. FRANKLUV. 95 
 
 discovery. Pixtfessor Richman bade fair to add much 
 to the stock of knowledge on this subject, when an 
 unfortunate flash fiorn his conductor put a period to 
 his existence. The friends of science will long re 
 member with regret, the amiable martyr to electricity. 
 
 By these expeiiments Franklin s theory was estab 
 lished in the most convincing manner. When the 
 truth of it could no longer be doubted, envy and va* 
 nity endeavoured to detract from its merit. That an 
 American, an inhabitant of the obscure city of Phila 
 del^hia, the name of which was hardly known, should 
 be able to make discoveries, and to frame theories, 
 which had escaped the notice of the enlightened phi 
 losophers of Europe, was too mortifying to be admit 
 ted. 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 Noilet, 1748, had suggested the idea of 
 the similarity of lightning and electricity, in his Le~ 
 cons de Physique. It is true that the Abbe mentions 
 the idea, but he throws it out as a bare coniecture, and 
 proposes no mode of ascertaining the truth of it. He 
 himsel-f acknowledges, that FrankVm first entertained, 
 the bold thought of bringing lightning" from the hea 
 vens, by means of pointed rods fixed in the air. The 
 similarity of lightning and electricity is so strong, that 
 we need not be surprised at notice "being taken of it, 
 as soon as electrical phenomena became familiar. We 
 find it mentioned by Dr. Wall and Mr. Grey, whJlethe 
 science was in its infancy. But the honour of form 
 ing a regular theory of thundergusts, of suggesting a 
 mode of determining the truth of it by experiments, and 
 of putting these experiments in practice, and thus es *" 
 ablishmg the theory upon a firm and solid basis, i 
 hcontestjbly due to Franklin. D Alibard, who mat!, 
 the first experiments in France, says, that k3 only fol 
 loworl the tract which Franklin had pointed out. 
 
 It has been of late asserted, that the honour of com 
 plcting the experiment with the electrical kite, does 
 not belong to Franklin. Some late English naragiaphs 
 have attributed it to some Frenchman, whose nnme 
 they do not mention ; and the Abbe Bertholon gives it 
 to M. de Romas, assessor to the presideal of Nerac 
 
96 LIFE OF 
 
 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 ex 
 periment was made in June, 1752; and his letter, 
 giving an account of it, is dated October 19,1752 
 M.jde Romas made his first attempt on the 14th of 
 May, 1753, but was not successful until the 7th of 
 June, a year after Franklin had completed the dis 
 overy, and when it was known to all me philosopher 
 n Europe. 
 
 Besides these great principles, Franklin s letters oi 
 electricity contain a number of facts and hints, whicb 
 have contributed greatly towards reducing this brand 
 of knowledge to a science. His friend Mr. Kinners 
 ley communicated to him a discovery of the different 
 kinds of electricity, excited by rubbing glass and sul 
 phur. This, we have raid, was first observed by M 
 du Faye ; but it was tor many years neglected. Th* 
 philosophers were disposed to account for the pheno 
 inena, rather from a difference in the quantity of elec 
 tricity collected, and even Du Faye himself seems at 
 last to have adopted this doctrine. Franklin, at first, 
 entertained the same idea ; but, upon repeating the 
 experiments, he perceived that Mr. Kinnersley was 
 right . and that the vitreous and resinous electricity of 
 Du Faye were nothing more than the positive and ne 
 gative states winch he had before observed ; and that 
 the glass globe charged positively, or increased the 
 quan ity of electricity on the prime conduotor, whilt 
 the globe of sulphur diminished its natural quantity 
 or charged negatively. These experiments and obser 
 vations opened a new field for investigation, upon 
 which electricians entered with avidity; and their Ia^ 
 bours have added much to the stock of our knowledge, 
 Jn September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a coursa 
 of experiments, to determine the state of electricity in 
 the clouds. From a number of experiments he form 
 ed this conclusion : " That the clouds of a thunder- 
 gust are most commonly in a negative state of electri 
 city, but sonieiiip.es in a positive state ;" and from this 
 it follow*, as a necessary consequence, " that, for the 
 most part, in thunder-strokes, it is the earth that strikes 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 07 
 
 into the clouds, and not the clouds that strike into 
 the earth." The letter containing these observations 
 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 Bertholcn, who 
 published his memoir on the subject in 1776. 
 
 Franklin s letters have been translated into mosl 
 of the European languages, and into Latin. In propor- 
 ion as they have become known, his principles hava 
 fceen adopted. Some opposition was made to hii 
 theories, particularly by the Abbe \ollet, who wa?, 
 however but feebly supported, while the first philoso 
 phers in F^urope stepped forth in defence of Frank 
 lin s principles, amongst whom D Alibard and Bcc- 
 caria were the most distinguished. The oppsition 
 has gradually ceased, and the Franklinian system is 
 now universally adopted, where science flourishes. 
 
 The important practical use which Franklin made 
 of his discoveries, the securing of houses from injury 
 by lightning, has been already mentioned. Pointed 
 conductors are now very common in America; but 
 prejudice has hitherto prevented their general intro 
 duction into Europe, notwithstanding the most un 
 doubted proofs of their utility have been given. But 
 mankind can with difficulty be brought to lay aside 
 established practices, or to adopt new ones. And 
 perhaps we have more reason to be surprised that a 
 practice, however rational, which was proposed 
 about forty ago, should in that time have been adopt 
 ed in so many places, than that it has not universal 
 ly prevailed. It is only by degrees that the great 
 body of mankind can be led into new practices, how 
 ever salutary their tendency. It is now neaily eighty 
 years since inoculation was introduced into Europe 
 and America; and it is so far from bing general at 
 present, that it will require one or two centuries to 
 render it so. 
 
 In the year 174"), Franklin published an account of 
 his new invented Pennsylvania fire-places; in which 
 he minutely and accurately states ;he advantages of 
 different kinds oj fire-places ; and endeavours to 
 show, that the one which he describes is to be pre 
 ferred to any otner. This contrivance iias given i i*o 
 
*8 LIFlC OP 
 
 to the open stores now In gerMral use, which, how 
 ever, differ from it i construction, particularly hi not 
 having an air-box at the back, through winch a con 
 stant supply cf air, wanned in its passage, is thrown 
 into the room. The advantages of this air, that as a 
 stream of warm air is continually flowing into the 
 room, less fuel is necessary to preserve a proper tem 
 perature, and the room, may be so tightened as that no 
 air may enter through cracks the consequence ol 
 which are colds, tooth-aches, &c. 
 
 Although philosophy was a principal object cf 
 Franklin s pursuit for several years, he confined him- 
 relf not to this. In the year 1747, he became a mem 
 ber of the general assembly of Pennsylvania, as a 
 burgess for the city of Philadelphia. Warm disputes 
 subsisted at this time between the Assembly and the 
 proprietaries; each contending for what they conceiv 
 ed to be their just rights. Franklin, a friend to the 
 rights of man from his infancy, spun distinguished 
 himself a steady opponent of the unjust schemes of 
 the proprietaries. He was soon looked up to as tha 
 head ot the opposition ; and to him have been attri 
 buted many of the spirited replies of the Assembly to 
 the messages of the governors. His influence in the 
 body was very great. This arose not from any supe 
 rior powers of eloquence ; he spoke but seldom, and 
 he never was known to make any thing like an ela 
 borate harrangne. His speeches often consisted of a 
 single sentence, of a well-told story, the moral of which 
 was obviously to the point. He never attempted the 
 flowery field of oratory. His manner was plain and 
 mild. His style in speaking was, like that of hia 
 writings, simple, anadorned, and remarkably concise. 
 With this plain manner, and his penetrating and solid 
 judgment, he was able to confound the most eloquent 
 and subtle of his adversaries, to confirm the opinions 
 of his friends, and to make converts of the unpreju 
 diced who had opposed him. With a single observa 
 tion, he has rendered of no avail an elegant and 
 lengthy discourse, and determined the fate of a ques- 
 ticn cf importance. 
 
 But he was not contented with thus supporting the 
 fights of the people. He wished to render them per- 
 
DR FRANKLIN. 99 
 
 manently secure, whJch can only be done by making 
 their value properly known ; and this must depend 
 upon increasing and extending information to every 
 c-*iss of men. We have already seen that he was 
 the founder of the public library, which contributed 
 greatly towards improving the minds of the citizens. 
 But this was not sufficient. The schools then sub 
 sisting were in general of little utility. The teachers 
 were men ill qualified for the important duty which 
 hey had undertaken ; and, after all, nothing mor 
 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 hi 
 this, as in all his plans, he confined not his views to 
 the present time only. He looked forward to the pe 
 riod when an institution on an enlarged plan would 
 become necessary. With this view, he considered 
 his academy as "a foundation for posterity to erect 
 a seminary of learning more extensive, and suitable 
 to future circ-umstances." In pursuance of this plan, 
 the constitutions were drawn up and signed on the 
 13th of November, 1 749. In these, twenty-four of tne 
 most respectable citizens of Philadelphia were named 
 as trustees. In the choice of these, and in the for 
 mation of his plan, Franklin is said to have consulted 
 cniefly with Tnomo 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 honour of ouz 
 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 receiving a 
 ertain salary) through sickness, or any other natu 
 ial infirmity, whereby he may be reduced to poverty 
 the trustees shall have po\ver to contribute to his sup 
 port, in proportion to his distress and merit, and the 
 stock in their hands," 
 
 The last clause of the fundamental rule is express 
 ed in language so tender and benevolent, so truly 
 parental, that it will do everlasting Honour to the 
 *nearts and heads of the founders. 
 
100 LIFE OF 
 
 " It i* hoped and expected that the trustees will 
 make it their pleasure, and in some degree their bu 
 siness, to visit the academy often ; to encourage and 
 countenance ihe youth, to countenance and assist the 
 masters, and by ail means in their power, advance 
 the usefulness and .reputation of the design; that 
 they will look on the students as, in some measure, 
 their own children, treat them with familiarity and 
 affection; and when they have behaved well, gone 
 through their studies, and are to enter the world, 
 they shall zealously unite, and make all the interest 
 that can be made to promote and establish them, 
 whether in business, offices, marriages, or any other 
 thing for their advantage, in preference to all other 
 persons whatsoever, even of equal merit." 
 
 The constitution being signed and made public, 
 with the names of the gentlemen proposing them 
 selves as trustees and founders, the design was so 
 well approved of by the public-spirited citizens ol 
 Philadelphia, that the sum of eight hundred pounds 
 per annum, for five years, was in the course of a 
 lew weeks subscribed for carrying it into execu 
 tion ; and in the beginning of January following 
 (viz. 17oO) three of t?he schools were opened, name 
 ly the Latin and Greek schools, the mathematical 
 school, and the English school, in pursuance of 
 an article in the original plan, a school for edu 
 cating sixty boys and thirty girls (in the charter 
 since called the Charitable School) was opened ; 
 and, amidst all the difficulties with which the trus- 
 tees have struggled in respect to their funds, lias 
 still been continued full for the space of fort} 
 years; so that allowing three years education fo/ 
 ach boy and girl admitted into it, which is the ge 
 iieral rule, at least twelve hundred children have 
 received in it the chief part of their education, who 
 might otherwise, in a great measure, have been left 
 without the means of instruction. And many oi 
 those who have been thus educated, are now to be 
 lound among the most useful and reputable citizen* 
 of this state. 
 
 Tim institution) thus successfully begun, con 
 tinued daily to flourish, to the great satisfaction ol. 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 101 
 
 Dr. Franklin ; who, notwithstanding the multipli 
 city of his other engagements and pursuits, at that 
 busy stage of his life, was a constant attendant at 
 the monthly visitations and examinations of the 
 schools, and made it his particular study, by means 
 of his extensive correspondence abroad, to advance 
 the reputation of the seminary, and to draw stu 
 dents and scholars to it from the different parts o 
 America and the West Indies. Through the inter 
 position of his benevolent and learned friend, Pete 
 Collinson of London, upon the application of th 
 trustees, a charter of incorporation, dated July 13 
 1753, was obtained from the honourable proprietors 
 of Pennsylvania, Thomas Penn, and Richard Penn, 
 Esqrs. accompanied 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 ori 
 ginal design, viz. the establishment of a perfect in- 
 siiiution, upon the plan of the European colleges 
 and universities ; for which his academy was in 
 tended as a nursery or foundation. To elucidate 
 this fact, is a mauer of considerable importance in 
 respect to the memory aud character of Dr. Frank- 
 lin as a philosopher, and as ll.e 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 languages, with 
 All useful branches of the arts and sciences, suita 
 ble to the stare of an infant country, and laying a 
 foundation for posterity to erect a seminary ct 
 learning more extensive, and suitable to their fu 
 ure circumstances ;" yet It has been suggested o 
 late, as upon Dr. Franklin s authority, that, th 
 Latin and Creok, or the dead languages, are an in- 
 cumbrance upon a scheme of liberal education, and 
 that the ingrafting or founding; a college, or more 
 extensive seminary, upon his academy, was with 
 out his approbation or agency, and gave him dis 
 content. If the reverse of this does not already ap 
 pear from what has been quoted above, the follow 
 mg letters will put the matter beyond dispute. 
 
102 LIFE OF 
 
 They were written by him to a gentleman, who had 
 at that time published the idea of a college, suited 
 t the circumstances of a young country (meaning 
 New-York) a copy of which having been sent to 
 Dr. Franklin for his opinion, gave rise to that cor 
 respondence which terminated about a year after 
 wards, 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 distin 
 guished reputation. 
 
 From these letters also, the state of the academy, 
 at that time will be seen. 
 
 "Philad. April W, 1753. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " I received your favour of the llth instant, with 
 your new piece* on Education, which 1 shall caro- 
 fully peruse, and give you my sentiments of it, as you 
 desire, by next post. 
 
 l> > I believe the young gentlemen, your pupils, may 
 be entertained and instructed here, in mathematics 
 and philosopny* to satisfaction. Mr. Alisonf (who 
 was educated at Glasgow") has been long accustomed 
 to teach the latter, anci Mr. Grew; 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 af 
 ford some hours every day for the instruction of those 
 who are engaged in higher studies. The mathema- 
 t cal school is pretty well furnished with instruments. 
 The English library is a good one ; and we have be 
 longing to it a middling apparatus for experimental 
 liiilosophy, and propose speedily to complete it. Tht 
 Loganian library, one of the best collections in Ame 
 
 * A genera! idea of the college of Mirania. 
 
 f The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Alisun afterwards D. EH 
 and vice-provost of the college. 
 
 \ T\Jr. ThaopLilus Grew, afterwards professor cf mathematics h 
 (he college. 
 
 || Those assistant* were at that time. Mr. Charles Thomson, lat 
 lecretary of congress, Mr. Paul Jacks and Mr. Jacob Duchj*. 
 
DR. FRANKLIft. 103 
 
 rica, will shortly be opened ; so that neither books 
 nor instruments will be wanting ; and as we are de 
 termined always to give good salaries, we have rea 
 son to believe we may have always an opportunity of 
 choosing good masters ; upon which, indeed, the suc 
 cess of the whole depends. We are obliged to you 
 for your kind offers in this respect, and when you are 
 settled in England, we maj- occasionally make use of 
 your friendship and judgment, " 
 
 " If it suits your convenience to visit Philadelphia 
 before you return to Europo, I sh^ll be extremely 
 glad to see and converse with you here, as well as to 
 correspond with you after your settlement in England ; 
 for an acquaintance and communication with men of 
 learning, virtue, and public spirit, is one cf my great 
 est enjoyments. 
 
 " I do not know whether ycu ever happened to see 
 the first proposals J made for erecting this academy. 
 I send them inclosed. They had (however imper 
 fect; the desired success, being followed by a sub 
 scription of four thousand pounds, towards carrying 
 them into execution. And as we are fond of receiv 
 ing advice, and are daily improving by experience, I 
 am in hopes we shall, in a few years, see a perfect 
 institution. 
 
 " I am, very respectfully, &c. 
 
 " B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 " Mr. W. Smith, Long Island." 
 
 " Philad. May, 3. 1753. 
 " SIR, 
 
 " Mr. Peters has just now been with me, and we 
 have compared no _3s on your new piece. We find 
 nothing in the scheme of education, however excel 
 lent, 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: 
 
 * The name given to the principal or head of the ideal college, th 
 Jitem of education in which hath nevertheless been nearlj realized, 
 or followed M a model, in th college and academy of Philadelphia! 
 fjpdoin other American lerninariei for teveral yean fait 
 * 
 
104 LIFE OF 
 
 but such may l>e had if proper encouragement b<i 
 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 sentimonrs, so warm and animated 
 the language ; 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 Review,* 
 which you are now justly dissatisfied with, but thosa 
 expressions of resentment against your adversaries, 
 in pages 65 and 79. In such cases, the noblest vic 
 tory is obtained by neglect, and by shining on. 
 
 "Mr. Allen has been out of town these ten days, 
 but before he went he directed me to procure him 
 six copies of your piece. Mr. Peters has taken ten. 
 He proposed to have written to you ; but omits it, as 
 he expects so soon to have the pleasure of seeing you 
 here. He desires me to present his affectionate com 
 pliments to you, and to assure you, that you will be 
 very welcome to him. I shall only say, that you may 
 depend on rny doing all in my power to make youi 
 visit to Philadelphia agreeable to you. 
 " 1 am, &c. 
 
 " Mr, Smith. " B. FRANKLIN." 
 
 "Philad. JYbt>. 27, 1753. 
 
 " DEAR SIR, 
 
 " Having written you fully, via Bristol, I have now 
 little to add. Matters relating to the academy re 
 main in statn quo. The trustees would be glad to 
 eee a rector established thore, but they dread entering 
 nto new engagements till they a-e got out of debt ; 
 and I have not yet got them wholly over to my opin 
 ion, that a good professor, or teacher of the higher 
 branches of learning, would draw so many scholar* 
 as to pay great part, if not the whole of his salary. 
 
 * The quotation alluded to ( from the London Monthly Reriew 
 for 174 j) wa judged to reflect too severely on the discipline and 
 government of the English uniremitiet of Oxford and Cambridge, 
 tod WM txpupged from th following editipns of thil work. 
 
Dr. FRANKLIN. 106 
 
 Thus, unless the proprietors (of the province) shall 
 think fit to put the finishing hand to our institution, 
 it must, J fear, wait some few years longer before it 
 can arrive at that state of perfection, which to me it 
 seems now capauie of; and all the pleasure I pro 
 mised myself in seeing you settled among us, vanish 
 es into smoke, 
 
 l But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that iw 
 endeavours of his shall be wanting; and he hope* 
 with the archbishop s assistance, to be able to prevai 
 with c\ir proprietors.* I pray God grant them euc 
 cess. 
 
 >* M/ son presents his affectionate regards, with, 
 " Dear Sir* yours, &c. 
 
 "& FRANKLIN. 
 
 " V. S. I have not been favoured with a line from 
 ysu since your arrival in England." 
 
 "Philad. April 19, 1754. 
 
 * DEAR SIR, 
 
 44 I have had but one letter from you since your 
 arrival in England, which was but a short one, via 
 Boston, dated October 18th, acquainting rne that 
 you had written largely by Captain Davis. Davis 
 was lost, and with him your letters, to my great dis 
 appointment. Mesnard and Gibbon have since ar 
 rived here, and 1 hear nothing from you. My com 
 fort is, an imagination that you only omit writing 
 because you are coming, ami propose to tell me every 
 thing viva voce. iSo not knowing whether this letter 
 will reacn you, and hoping either to see or hear from 
 you by the Myrtilla, Captain Budden s ship, which 
 is daily expected, I only add, that I am, with great 
 esteem and affection, 
 
 "Yours, &c. 
 
 " Mr. Smith. B. FRANKLIN." 
 
 * Upon tLe application of Archbuhup Herring and P. Colhruou, 
 Eiqr. at Dr. Franklin s request (aided by the letter* of Mr Allan 
 and Mr Peters,) the honourable Thomas Penn, Etqr. lubicribed an 
 annual sMin, and Afterwards gave at least 50001. to tiv foundicg ortn 
 e collect Mpoo the **--Juf|r 
 
106 LIFE OF 
 
 About a month after the date of this last letter, tne 
 gentleman to whom it was addressed arrived in Phi 
 ladelphia, and was immediately placed at the head 
 of the seminary ; whereby Dr. Franklin and the other 
 trustees were enabled to prosecute their plan, for per 
 fecting the institution, and opening the college upon 
 the large and liberal foundation on which it now 
 stands; for which purpose they obtained their addi 
 tional charter, dated May 27th, 1755. 
 
 Thus far we thought it proper to exhibit in one 
 riew Dr. Franklin s services in the foundation and 
 establishment of this scminavy. He soon afterwards 
 embarked for England, in the public service of his 
 country ; and bavin? been generally eroplo} r ed 
 abroad, in the like service, for the greatest part of 
 the remainder of his life (as will appeal in our sub 
 sequent account of the same) he had but few op 
 portunities of taking any further active part in the 
 affairs of {the seminary, until his final return in the 
 year 1785, when he foiuid its cnarters violated, and 
 his ancient colleagues, the original founders, deprived 
 of their trust by "an act of the legislature ; and al 
 though his own name had bem inserted amongst the 
 new trustees, yet he declined to take his seat among 
 them, or any concern in the management of their af 
 fairs, till the institution was restored by law to its 
 original owners. He then assembled his old col 
 leagues at his *~"ii house, and being chosen their pre 
 sident, 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 h 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 insti- 
 utions himself, but" he was also instrumental in pro 
 moting 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 ohtain 
 subscriptions from them. Unwilling that his scheme 
 
Da FRANKLIN. 107 
 
 should prove abortive, he sought the aid of Franklin, 
 wlio readily engaged in the business, both by using 
 his influence with his friends, and by stating the ad 
 vantageous influence cf the proposed institution in 
 his paper. These efforts were attended with success. 
 Considerable sums were subscribed ; but they were 
 still short of what was necessary. Franklin now 
 made another exertion. He applied to the Assembly ; 
 and, after some opposition, obtained leave to bring 
 in a bi l, specifying, that as soon as two thousand 
 pounds were subscribed, the same sum should bo 
 drawn from the treasury by the speaker s warrant, 
 Jo be applied to the purposes of the institution. The 
 Apposition, as the sum was granted upon a contin 
 gency, which they supposed would never take place, 
 were silent, and the bill passed. The friends of the 
 plan now redoubled their efforts, to obtain subscrip 
 tions to the amount stated in the bill, and were soon 
 successful. This was the foundation of the Penn 
 sylvania Hospital, which, with the BetteringHouseand 
 Dispensary, bears ample testimony of the humanity 
 of the citizens of Philadelphia. 
 
 Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well in the 
 office of post-master, and had shown himself to be so 
 well acquainted with the business of that department, 
 that it was thought expedient to raise him to a more 
 dignified station, In 1753 he was appointed deputy 
 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 
 har.ds 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 be 
 tween France and England. The colonies, individu 
 ally, were either too weak to take efficient measure! 
 for their own defence, or they were unwilling to take 
 upon themselves the -vhole burden of erccfiiy; fortt 
 and maintaining garn>*..is " hil** thoir neighbours, 
 who partook equally with tnemseives of the advaa- 
 5 * 
 
100 LIFE 0^- 
 
 tages, contributed nothing to the expense. Some* 
 times also the disputes, which subsisted between the 
 overra>rs and the assemblies, prevented the adop 
 tion 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 accom 
 plish this, fn the year 1754, commissioners from New 
 Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, New Jer 
 sey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland, met at Albany 
 Dr. Franklin attended here, as a commissioner from 
 Pennsylvania, and produced a plan, which from the 
 place of meeting, has been usually termed, " The 
 Albany Plan of Union!" This propvjsed, that applU 
 cation should be made for an act of parliament, to 
 establish in the colonies a general government, to be 
 administered by a president-general, appointed by 
 we crown, and by a grand council, consisting ol 
 members, chosen by the representatives of the differ 
 ent colonies ; their number to be in direct proportion 
 to the sums paid by each colony into the general 
 treasury, with this restriction, that no colony should 
 have more than seven, nor less than two representa 
 tives. The whole executive authority was commit 
 ted to the president-general. The power of legisla 
 tion was lodged in the grand council and the pres\ 
 dent-general jointly ; his consent being made neces 
 sary 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 na 
 tions ; to regulate trade with, and to make purchases 
 nf vacant lands from them, either in the name of the 
 crown, or of the union ; to settle new colonies, to 
 make laws for governing these, until they should be 
 erected into separate governments; and to raise 
 troops, build sorts, and fit otit armed vessels, and to 
 use other moans for the general defence ; and, to ef 
 fect these things, a power was given to make Jaws, 
 laying such duties, imposts, or taxes, as they should 
 find necessary, and as would be least burdensome to 
 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. Al! 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 109 
 
 officers of the land or sea service were to he nomin 
 ated by the president-general, and approved of by 
 the general council ; civil officers were to be nomi 
 nated by the council, and approved of by the presi 
 dent. Such are the outlines of the plan proposed, 
 for the consideration of the congress, by Dr. Franklin. 
 After several days discussion, it was unanimously 
 agreed to by the commissioners, a copy transmitted 
 to each assembly, and one to the king s council. Tha 
 fete of it was singular. It was disapproved of by 
 the ministry of Great Britain, because it gave too 
 much power to the representatives of the people ; and * 
 it was rejected by every assembly, as giving to tha 
 president-general, the representative of the crown, 
 an influence greater than appeared to them proper, 
 in a plan of government intended for freemen. Per 
 haps this rejection, on both sii j .es, is the strongest 
 proof that could be adduced of the excellence of it, 
 as suited to the situation of America and Great Bri 
 tain at that time. It appears to have steered exactly 
 in the middle, between the opposite interests of both. 
 Whether the adoption of this plan would have pre 
 vented the separation of America from Great Britain* 
 is a question which mi^ht ali^rd much room for spe 
 culation. It may be said, that, by enabling the colo 
 nies to defend themselves, it would have removed tho 
 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 founda 
 tion 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, oblig 
 ing us to sell our produce to her citizens only, and to 
 take from them various articles, of which, as our 
 manufacturers were discouraged, we stood in need, 
 at a price greater than that for which they could 
 have been obtained from other nations, must inCVR 
 tably produce dissatisfaction, even though no duties * 
 were imposed by the parliament ; a circumstance 
 which might still have taken place. Besides, as the 
 president-general was to be appointed by the crown, 
 he must, of necessity, be devoted to its views, ami 
 would, therefore, refuse to assent to any laws, how* 
 
110 LtFfc OF 
 
 ey-51 salutary to the community, which had the most 
 remote tendency to injure the interests of his sover 
 eign. Even should they receive his assent, the ap 
 probation of the king was to be necessary ; who would 
 indubitably, in every instance, prefer the advantage 
 of his own dominions to that of his own colonies. 
 Hence would ensue perpetual disagreements between 
 the council and the president-general, and thus be 
 tween the people of America and the crown of Great 
 Britain: while the colonies continued weak, they 
 trould be obliged to submit, and as soon as they ac 
 quired strength, they would become more urgent in 
 their demands, until, at length, they would shake ofl 
 ihe yoke, and declare themselves independent. 
 
 Whilst the French were in possession of Canada, 
 their trade with the natives extended very far : even 
 to the back of the British settlements. They were 
 disposed, from time to time, to establish posts within 
 the territory, which the English claimed as their own. 
 Independent of the injury to the fur trade, which was 
 considerable, the colonies suffered this further incon 
 venience, that the Indians were frequently instigated 
 to commit depredations on their frontiers. In the 
 year 1 753, encroachments were made upon the boun 
 daries of Virginia. Remonstrances had no effect. In 
 the ensuing year, a body of men were sent out under 
 the command of Mr. Washington, who, though a very 
 young man, had by his conduct in the preceding year, 
 shown himself worthy of such an important trust.- 
 ; Whilst marching to take possession of the post at the 
 junction of the Allegany and Monongahela, he was 
 informed that the French had already erected a fort 
 there. A detachment of their men inarched against 
 him. He fortified himself as strongly as time and 
 circumstances would admit. A superiority of nuni 
 bers soon compelled him to surrender Fort Necessity 
 He obtained honourable tenns for himself and men, 
 and returned to Virginia. The government of Great 
 Britain now thought it necessary to interfere. In the 
 year 1755, General Braddock, with some regiments 
 of regular troops and provincial levies, was sent to 
 dispossess the Frencli of the post upon which they 
 seized. After the men were all ready, a difficui- 
 
DR. FKANKLIN. Ill 
 
 ty occurred, which had nearly prevented the expe 
 dition. This was the want of waggons. 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 
 ^rished, 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 display 
 ed great military talents in affecting a retreat of the 
 remains of the arm} 7 , and in forming a junction with 
 the rear, under colonel Dunbar, upon whom tha 
 chief command now devolved. With some difficulty 
 they brought their little body to a place of safety, but 
 they found it necessary to destroy their waggons and 
 baggage, to prevent them from falling into the hands 
 of the enemy. For the waggons which he had fur 
 nished, 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, findr 
 ing that he had incurred those debts for the service of 
 government, made arrangements to have them dis 
 charged, and released Franklin from his disagreeable 
 situation. 
 
 The alarm spread through the colonies, after the 
 defeat of Braddock, was very great. Preparations 
 to arm were every where made. In Pennsylvania, 
 the prevalence, of the quaker interest prevented the 
 adoption of any system of defence, which would 
 compel the citizens to bear arms. Franklin introduc 
 ed into the Assembly a bill for organizing a militia, 
 by which every man was allowed to lake arms Oi: not, 
 as to him should appear fit. The quakers, being 
 bus left at liberty, suffered the bill to pass: for al- 
 hough their principles would not suffer them to fight, 
 Ihey had no objection to their neighbours fighting for 
 them. In consequence of this act a very respectable 
 militia was formed. The sense of impending danger 
 infused a military spirit in all, whose religious tenets 
 were not opposed to war. Franklin was appointed 
 colonel of a regiment in Philadelphia, which con 
 sisted of 1200 men. 
 
in ufrfc OF 
 
 The north-western frontier being invaded by tfie 
 enemy, it became necessary to adopt measures foi 
 its defence. Franklin was directed by the Govern 
 or to take charge of this. A power of raising menj 
 and of appointing officers to command them, was 
 vested in him. He soon levied a body oi troops, 
 with which he repaired to the place at which their 
 presence was necessary. Here he built a fort, and 
 traced the garrison in such a posture of defence, as 
 would enable them to withstand the inroads, to which 
 he inhabitants had been previously exposed. He 
 remained here for some time, in oider the more com 
 pletely to discharge the trust committted to him. 
 Some business of importance at length rendered his 
 presence necessary in the Assembly, and he returned 
 to Philadelphia. 
 
 TITfe defence of her colonies was a great expense 
 to Great Britain. The most effectual mode of lessen 
 ing this was, to put arms into the hands of the inha 
 bitants, and to teach them their use. But England 
 wished not that the Americans should become ac- 
 quainteu with their own strength. She was appre 
 hensive, 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 ex 
 tremely advantageous to the mother country. In 
 comparison vith the profits of this, the expense of 
 maintaining Armies and fleets to defend them waj 
 trifling. Slit fought to keep them dependent upon 
 her for protection ; the best plan which could be de 
 vised for retaining them in peaceable subjection 
 The least appearance of a military spirit was there 
 fore 10 be gus rded against ; and although a war the* 
 raged, the act of organizing a militia was disapproved 
 of by the ministry. The regiments which had beei< 
 formed uncle/ it were disbanded, and the defence of 
 the province entrusted to regular troops. 
 
 The disputes between the proprietaries and th 
 people continued in full force, although a war wai 
 raging on trv.i frontiers. Not even the sense of dan 
 ger was sjfTicient to reconcile, for ever so short a 
 time, their jarring interests. The Assembly still in- 
 sisted up<,n the justice of taxing the proprietary es- 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. US 
 
 tales, but the governors constantly refused their as 
 sent to this measure, without which no bill could pass 
 into a law. Enraged at the obstinacy, and what 
 they conceived to be unjust proceedings of their op 
 ponents, the Assembly at length determined to ap 
 ply to the mother-country for relief. A petition was 
 addressed to the king, in council, stating the incon 
 veniences under which the inhabitants laboured, 
 from the attention of the proprietaries to their private 
 nterests, to the neglect of the general welfare of th 
 community, and praying for redress. Franklin wa* 
 appointed to present this address, as ag"ent for tie 
 province rf Pennsylvania, and departed from Ame 
 rica in June, 1757. In conformity to the instructions 
 which he had icceived from the legislature, he held 
 a conference with the proprietaries who then resided 
 in England, aad endeavoured to prevail upon them 
 to give up the long-contested point. Finding that they 
 would hearken to no terms of accommodation, he laid 
 his petition before the council. During this time Gov 
 ernor Denny assented to a law imposing a tax, in which 
 no discrimination was made in favour of the estates 
 of the. Penn family. They, alarmed at this in 
 telligence, and Franklin s exertions, used their utmost 
 endeavours to prevent the royal sanction being given 
 to this law, which they represented as highly iniquit 
 ous, designed to throw the burden of supporting go 
 vernment u/on them, and calculated to produce the 
 most ruino ie consequences to them and their poste 
 rity. The cause was amply discussed before the 
 privy council. The Penny found here some strenu 
 ous advocates ; nor were there wanting some wh 
 warmly es}oused the side of the people. After some 
 time spen in debate, a proposal was made, tha 
 Franklin should solemnly engage, tnat the assess 
 ment of t .ie tax should be so made, as that the pro 
 prietary estates should pay no more than a due pro 
 portion. Tliis he agreed to perform, the Pei.n fami 
 ly withdrew their opposition, and tranquillity WHS 
 thus once more restored to the province. 
 
 The mode in which this dispute was terminated, 
 is a striking proof of the high opinion enteitained o 1 
 Franklin s integrity and honour, even by those who 
 
114 LU*E OF 
 
 considered him as inimical to their views. Nor was 
 their confidence ill-founded. The assessment was 
 made upon the strictest principle of equity ; and the 
 proprietary estates bore only a proportionable share 
 of the expenses of supporting government. 
 
 After the completion of this important business, 
 Franklin remained at the court of Great Britain, as 
 agent for the province of Pennsylvania. The exten 
 sive knowledge which he possessed of the situation of 
 the colonies, and the regard which he always mani 
 fested for their interests, occasioned his appointment 
 to the same office by the colonies of Massachusetts, 
 Maryland, and Georgia. His conduct, in this situa 
 tion was such as rendered him still more dear to hij 
 countrymen. 
 
 He had now an opportunity of indulging in the so 
 ciety 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 perso 
 nal acquaintance. The opposition which had been 
 made to his dicoveries in philosophy gradually ceas 
 ed, and the rewards of literary merit were abundant 
 ly conferred upon him. The Royal Society of Lon 
 don, which had at first refused his performances ad 
 mission into its transactions, now thought it an ho 
 nour to rank him amongst its fellows. Other so- 
 scieties of Europe were equally ambitious of calling 
 him a membe*-. The university of St. Andrew s, in 
 Scotland conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of 
 Laws. Its example was followed by the universi 
 ties of Edinburgh and Oxford. His correspondence 
 was sought for by the most eminent philosophers of 
 Europe. His letters to these abound with true 
 science, delivered in the most simple unadorned 
 manner. 
 
 The province of Canada was at this t me in the 
 possession of the French, who had originally settled 
 A. The trade with the Indians, for which its situa 
 tion was very convenient, was exceedingly luora* 
 l(/e. The French traders here found a market fof 
 t neir commodities, and received in return large 
 quantities of rich furs, which they disposed of at a 
 liigh price in Europe. Whilst the possession of thii 
 
Dr. FRANKLIN. 115 
 
 country was highly advantageous to France, it was 
 a grievous inconvenience to the inhabitants of the 
 British colonies. The Indians were almost gene 
 rally desirous to cultivate the friendship of the 
 French, by whom they were abundantly supplied 
 with arms and ammunition. Whenever a war hap 
 pened, the Indians were ready to fall upon the 
 frontiers : this they frequently did, even when 
 Great Britain and France were at peace. From these 
 i considerations, it appeared to be the interest of Grea 
 Britain to gain the possession of Canada. But th 
 \ importance of such an acquisition was not well un 
 derstood in England. Franklin about this time pub- 
 lished his Canada pamphlet, in which he, in a very 
 forcible manner, pointed out the advantages which 
 would result from the conquest of this province. 
 
 An expedition against it was planned, and the com 
 mand given to General Wolfe. His success is well 
 knoxvn. At the treaty in 17H2, France ceded Cana 
 da to Great Britain, and by her cession of Louisiana, 
 at the same time, relinquished all her possessions on 
 the continent of America. 
 
 Although Dr. Franklin was now principally occu 
 pied with political pu/suits, he found time for philo 
 sophical studies. He extended his electrical re 
 searches, and made a variety of experiments, particu 
 larly on the tourmalin. The singular properties 
 which this stone possesses, of being electrified on one 
 side positively, and on the other negatively, by heat 
 alone, without friction, had been but lately observed. 
 Some experiment? on the cold produced by evapo 
 ration, made by Dr. Cullen, had been communicated 
 to Dr. Franklin, by Professor Simpson, of Glasgow. 
 These he repeated, and found, that, by the evapora 
 tion of either in the exhausted receiver of an air- 
 pump, so great a degree of cold was produceu in a 
 summer s day, that \va.ter was converted into ice. 
 This discovery he applied to the solution of a number 
 of phenomena, particularly a singular fact, which 
 philosophers had endeavoured in vain to account for, 
 vi"5. that the temperature of the human body, when 
 in health, never exceeds 96 degress of Fahrenheit s 
 thermometer, although the Atmosphere which sur- 
 
116 LIFE OF 
 
 rounds it may be heated to a much greater degree. 
 This he attributed to the increased perspiration, and 
 consequent evaporation, produced bvthe heat. 
 
 In a letter to Mr. Small, of London, nated in May, 
 1760, Dr. Franklin makes a number of observations, 
 tending to show that, in North America, north-east 
 storms begin in the south-west parts. It appears, 
 from actual observations, that a north-east storm* 
 Which extended a considerable distance, commenced 
 at Philadelphia nearly four hours before it was felt 
 at Boston. He endeavoured to account, for this, by 
 supposing that, from heat, some rare fraction 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 tint? 
 a continued current is at length produced. 
 
 The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a drink- 
 ing-glass with a wet finger had been generally known. 
 A Mr. Puckeridge, an Irishman, by placing on a table 
 a number of glasses of different sizes, and tuning 
 them by partly filling them with water, endeavoured 
 to form an instrument capable of playing tunes. He 
 was prevented, by an untimely end, from bringing 
 his invention to any degree ol perfection. After his 
 death some improvements were made upon his plan. 
 The sweetness of the tones induced Dr Franklin to 
 make a variety of experiments ; and he at length 
 formed the elegant instrument, which he has called 
 the Armonica. 
 
 In the summer of 1762, he returned to America. 
 On his passage he observed the singular effect pro 
 duced by the agitation of a vessel, containing oil 
 floating on water. The surface, of the oil remains 
 smooth and undisturbed, whilst the water is agitated 
 with the utmost commotion. No satisfactory expla 
 nation of this appearance has, we believe, ever been 
 given. 
 
 Dr. Franklin received the thanks of the Assembly 
 of Pennsylvania, " as well for the faithful discharge 
 of his duty to that province in particular, as for the 
 many and important services done to America in 
 general, during his residence in Great Britain." A 
 of 500$. Pennsylvania currency. 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. lit 
 
 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 Penn 
 sylvania he again look his seat in this body, and con 
 tinued a steady defender of the liberties of the people. 
 In December, 1762, a circumstance which caused 
 great alaini in the province took place. A number 
 of Indiana had resided in the county of Lancaster 
 and conducted themselves uniformly as friends t 
 the white inhabitants. Repeated depredations nn 
 the frontiers had exasperated the inhabitants to such 
 a degree, that they determined on revenge upon 
 every Indian. A number.of persons, to the amount 
 of about 120, principally inhabitants of Donegal and 
 Peckstangor Paxton township, in the county of York, 
 assembled ; and, mounted on horseback, proceeded 
 to the settlement of these harmless and defenceless 
 Indians, whose number had now been i educed to 
 about twenty. The Indians received intelligence of 
 the attack which was intended against them, but 
 disbelieved it. Considering the white people as their 
 friends, they 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 a^ ^ys distinguish 
 ed for his friendship to the whites. This bloody 
 deed excited much indignation in the well-disposed 
 part of the community. 
 
 The remainder of these unfortunate Indians, who 
 by absence, had escaped the massacre, were con 
 ducted to Lancaster, and lodged in the goal as a 
 ylace of security. The Governor issued a proclama 
 tion, expressing the strongest disapprobation of tit 
 action, offering a reward for the discovery of the 
 perpetrators of the deed, and prohibiting all injuriet 
 to the paaceable Indians in future. But, notwith 
 standing this, a party of the same men shortly a fiei 
 inarched to Lancaster, broke open the goal, an;) in 
 humanly butchered the innocent Indians who had 
 been placed there for security. Another 
 
118 LIFE OF 
 
 tion was issued, but it had no effect. A detachment 
 inarched down to Philadelphia, for the express pur 
 pose of murdering some friendly Indians, who had 
 beer, removed to the city for safety. A number of 
 citizens armed in their defence. Thequakers, whose 
 principles are opposed to fighting, even in their own 
 defence, were most active upon this occasion. The 
 rioters came to Germantown. The Governor fled 
 for safety to the house of Dr. Franklin, who, with 
 some others, advanced to meet the Paxton boys, a * 
 they were called, and had influence enough to pre 
 vail upon them to relinquish their undertaking, and 
 return to their homes. * 
 
 The disputes between the proprietaries and the 
 Assembly, which, for a time had subsided, were 
 again revived. The proprietaries were dissatisfied 
 with the concessions made in favour of the people, 
 and made great struggles TO recover the privilege of 
 exempting their estates from taxation, which they 
 had been induced to give up. 
 
 Jn 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, substituting death for 
 fines. He wished too, that the officers should be 
 appointed altogether by himself, and not be nomin 
 ated by the people, as the bill had proposed. These 
 amendments the Assembly considered as hiconsist 
 ent with the spirit of liberty. They would no* 
 adopt them ; the Governor was obstinate, and the 
 bill was lost. i 
 
 These, and various other circumstances, increas 
 ed the uneasiness which subsisted between the pro 
 prietaries and the Assembly, to such a degree, tha 
 in 1764 V a petition to the King was agreed to by th 
 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 pub- 
 lie prints. A speech of Mr. Dickenson, on the sun. 
 ject, was published, with a preface by Dr. Smith, ip 
 which great pains were taken to show the impro 
 priety and impolicy of this proceeding. A speech o( 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 119 
 
 Mr. Dickenson, on the subject, was published, with 
 a preface by Dr. Smith, in which great pains were 
 taken to shew the impropriety and impolicy of this 
 {proceeding. A speech of Mr. Galloway, in reply to 
 Mr. Dickenson, was published, accompanied with a 
 preface by Dr. Franklin ; in which he ably opposed 
 the principles laid down in the preface to Mr. Dick- 
 enson s speech. This application to the throne pro 
 duced no effect. The proprietary government was 
 itill continued. 
 
 At the election for a new Assembly, in the fall of 
 1764, the friends of the proprietaries made great ex 
 ertions to exclude those of the adverse party ; and 
 they obtained a small majority in the city oi Phila 
 delphia. Franklin now lost his seat in the house, 
 which he had held for fourteen years. On the meet 
 ing of the Assembly, it appeared that there was still 
 a decided majority of Franklin s friends. He was 
 immediately appointed provincial agent, to the great 
 chagrin of his enemies, who made a solemn protest 
 against his appointment ; which was refused admis 
 sion upon the minutes, as being unprecedented. It 
 was, however, published in the papers, and produced 
 a spirited reply from him, just before his departure 
 for England. 
 
 The disturbances produced in America by Mr. 
 Grenville s stamp act, and the opposition made to it, 
 are well known. Under the Marquis of Rocking- 
 ham s administration, it appeared expedient to en 
 deavour to calm the minds of the colonists ; and the 
 repeal of the odious tax was contemplated. Amongst 
 other means of collecting information on the dispo- j 
 sition of the people to submit to it, Dr. Franklin 
 was called to the bar of the House of Commons. 
 The examination which he here underwent was 
 published, and contains a striking proof of live extent 
 and accuracy of his information, and the facility 
 with which he communkaieol his sentiments. He 
 represented facts in so strong a point of view, that the 
 inexpediency of the act must have appeared clear to 
 every unprejudiced mind. The act, after some op- 
 posit on, was repealed, about a year after it was eu- 
 
LIFE OF- 
 
 acted, and before it had ever been carried into 
 execution. 
 
 In the year 1776, he made a visit to Holland and 
 Germany, and i-eceived the greatest marks of atten 
 tion from wen of science. In his passage through 
 Holland, he learned from the watermeal the effect 
 which a diminution of the quantity of water in ca 
 nals has, in impeding the progress of boats. Upon 
 liis return to England, he was led to make a number 
 of experiments, all of which tended to confirm th 
 observation. These, with an explanation of the phe 
 nomenon, he communicated in a letter to his friend, 
 Sir John Pringle, which is among his philoso 
 phical 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 introduc 
 ed 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 Bri 
 tain, came into the hands of Dr. Franklin. These 
 contained the most violent invectives against the 
 leading characters of the state of Massachusetts, and 
 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 legislature, by whom they were published. At 
 tested copies of them were sent to Great Britain, 
 r with an address, praying the king to discharge from 
 office persons who had rendered themselves so obnox 
 ious to the people, and who had shown them so un 
 friendly to their interests. The publication of thesa 
 letters produced a duel between Mr. Whately and 
 Mr. Temple: each of whom was suspected ofha^ 
 ing been instrumental in procuring them. To pre 
 vent any further disputes on this subject, Dr. Frank- 
 lin, in one of the public papers, declared thai he had 
 sent them to America, but would give no informa 
 tion concerning the manner in which he had obtain 
 ed them ; nor was this ever discovered. 
 
 Shortly after, the petition of the Massachusetts 
 assembly was taken uu for examination, before thjj 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 121 
 
 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, Wedderburne, who was engaged as 
 counsel for Oliver and Hutchinson. The petition 
 was declared to be scandalous and vexatious, arid 
 the prayer of it refused. 
 
 Although the parliament of Great Britain had re- 
 ealed the stamp-act, it was only upon the principle 
 f expediency. They still insisted upon their righ 
 o tax the colonies ; and, at the same time the stamp- 
 act was repealed, an act was passed, declaring the 
 right of parliament to bind the colonies in all casei 
 whatsoever. This language was used even by the. 
 most strenuous opposers of the stamp-act : and, 
 amongst others, by Mr. Pitt. This right was nevei 
 recognized by the colonists; but as they flattered 
 themselves that it would not be exercised, they were 
 not ver) r active in remonstrating against it. Had thu 
 pretended right been suffered to remain dormant, the 
 colonists would cheerfully have furnished their quota 
 of supplies, in the mode to which they had been ac 
 customed; that is, by the acts of their own assemblies, 
 in consequence of requisitions from the Secretary o^ 
 State, if this practice had been pursued, such was 
 the disposition of the colonies towards their mothe* 
 country, that, notwithstanding the disadvantages un 
 der which they laboured, from restraints upon their 
 trade, calculated solely for the beneh t of the com 
 mercial and manufacturing interests of Gi eat Britain, 
 a sepa ration of the two countries might have been a 
 far distant even*. The Americans, from their ear- 
 liest infancv, were taught to venerate a people from 
 A hom they were descended ; whose language, laws, 
 nd manners, were the same as their own. They 
 ooked up to them as models of perfection ; and, in 
 their prejudiced minds, the most enlightened nations 
 of Euiope were considered as almost barbarians, in 
 comparison with Englishmen. The name of an En 
 glishman convoyed to an American the idea of every 
 thing good and great. Such sentiments instilled into 
 them iti early life, what but a. repetition of unjust 
 treatment could have induced them lo entertain the 
 
s 
 
 122 LIFE OF 
 
 most distant thought of separation ! The duties on 
 glass, paper, leather, painters colours, &c. the dis- 
 franchisement of some of the colonies i the obstruc 
 tion 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 ot endeavouring to al 
 lay this by a more lenient conduct, a>e ministry seem 
 ed resolutely bent on reducing the colonies to the 
 most slavish obedience to their decrees. But this 
 only tended to aggravate. Vain were all the efforts 
 made use of to prevail upon them to lay aside their 
 designs, to convince them of the impossibility of car 
 rying them into effect, and of the mischievous conse 
 quences which must ensue from a continuance of 
 the attempt. They persevered with a degree of in 
 flexibility scarcely parallelled. 
 
 The advantages which Great Britain derived from 
 her colonies was so great, that nothing but a degree 
 of infatuation, little short of madness, could have 
 produced a continuance of measures calculated to 
 keep up a spirit of uneasiness, which might occasion 
 the slightest wish for a separation. When we con 
 sider the great improvements in *he science of go 
 vernment, the general diffusion of the principles of 
 liberty amongst the people of Europe, the effects which 
 these have already produced in France, and the pro 
 bable consequences which will result from them 
 elsewhere, all of which are the offspring of the Ameri 
 can revolution, it cannot but appear strange, that 
 events of so great moment to the happiness of man 
 kind, should have been ultimately occasioned by the 
 wickedness or ignorance of a British ministry. 
 1 Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail upon 
 the ministiy tc consent to a change of measures. In 
 private conversations, and in letters to persons in 
 government, he continually expatiated upon the im 
 policy and injustice of their conduct towards Ame 
 rica; and stated, that, notwithstanding the attach 
 ment to the mother-country, a repetition of ill treat 
 ment must ultimately alineate their affections. They 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 123 
 
 Ilst3ned not to his advice. They blindly persevered 
 in their own schemes, and left to the colonists no al 
 ternative, but opposition, or unconditional submis 
 sion. The latter accoiided not with the principles of 
 freedom, which they iiad been taught to revere. To 
 the former they were compelled, though reluctantly, 
 to have recourse. 
 
 Dr. Franklin, finding all efforts to restore harmo 
 ny between Great Britain and her colonies useless 
 eturnod to America in the year 1775 ; just after tna 
 commencement of hostilities. The day after his re 
 turn he was elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania 
 a delegate to congress. Not long after his -election 9 
 committee was appointed, consisting of Mr. Lynch, 
 Mr. Harrison, and himself, to visit the camp at Cam* 
 bridge, and, in conjunction with the commander-in. 
 chief, to endeavour to convince the troops, whose 
 term of enlistment was about to expire, of the necer?" 
 sity 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 
 endeavcur to unite them in the common cause of 
 liberty ; but they could not be prevailed upon to op 
 pose the measures of the British governments. M. 
 ie .Roy, in n letter annexed to Abbe Fauchet s eulo- 
 gium of Dr. Franklin, states, that the ill success of 
 this negociation was occasioned, in a great degree, 
 by religious animosities, which subsisted between tha 
 Canadians and their neighbours, some of whom had 
 at different limes, burnt their chapels. 
 
 When Lord Ho\ve came to America, in 1776, vest- 
 ed with power to treat with the colonists, a corres* 
 pondence took r ace between him and Dr. Franklin 
 on the subject of a reconciliation. Dr. Franklin was 
 afterwards appointed, together with John Adams an 
 Edward Rutledgp, to wait upon the commissioner 
 in order to learn the extent of their powers. Theca 
 were found to be onl} r to grant pardons upon sub 
 mission. These were terms which would not be ac 
 cepted ; and the object of the commissioners could 
 not be obtained. 
 
 The momentous question of independence 
 shortly after brought into view, at a time when Uj 
 6 
 
12* LIFE OF 
 
 flets and armies, which were sent to enforce ohc- 
 dience, were truly formidable. With an army, nu 
 merous indeed, but ignorant of discipline, and en 
 tirely 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 de 
 termined to separate from a country, from which they 
 had experienced a repetition of injury and insult 
 In this question, Dr. Franklin was" decidedly in fa 
 vour of the measure proposed, and had great infill 
 ence in bringing others over to his sentiments. 
 
 The public mind had been already prepared fbi 
 this event, by Mr. Paine s celebrated pamphlet, Com 
 mon Sense. There is gcod reason to believe that Dr. 
 Franklin had no inconsiderable share, at least, ii* 
 furnishing materials for this work. 
 
 In the convention that assembled at Philadelphia 
 in 1776, for the purpose of establishing a new form 
 of government for the state of Pem^lvarra, Dr. 
 Franklin was chosen president. The late constitu 
 tion of this state, which was the result of their deli 
 berations, may be considered as a digest of his prin 
 ciples of government. The single legislature, and 
 the plural executive, seem to have been his favourite 
 tenets. 
 
 In the latter end of 1776, Dr. Franklin was ap 
 pointed 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 in 
 tercourse with America, ami a desire of weakening 
 the British empire by dismembering it, first induced 
 the French court to listen to proposals of an alliance. 
 But they showed rather a reluctance to the measure, 
 vh/ch by Dr. Franklin s address, and particularly by 
 he success of the American arms against General 
 Burgoyne, was at length overcome ; and in February, 
 1778, a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, 
 was concluded ; in consequence of which France 
 became involved in the war with Great Britain. 
 
 Perhaps no person could have been found >nore 
 capable of rendering essential service to the United 
 States at the court of France than Dr. Franklin. Ha 
 was well known as a philosopher, and liis churactet 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 125 
 
 was held in the highest estimation. He was receiv 
 ed with the greatest marks of respect by all the lite 
 rary chaiactcrs; and this respect was extended 
 amongst all classes of men. His personal influence 
 was hence very considerable. To the effects of this 
 were add^cl those of various performances which he 
 published, tending to establish the credit and charac 
 ter of the United States. To his exertions in this 
 way may, in no small degree, be ascribed the success 
 of the loans negociated 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 impos 
 sibility of reducing the Americans to subjection. The 
 trading interest particularly become clamorous for 
 peace. The ministry were unable longer lo oppose 
 their wishes. Provision! articles oi peace were 
 agreed to, and signed at Paris, on the 30th of Novem 
 ber. 1782, by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, 
 and Mr. Laurens, on the part of the United States ; 
 and by Mr. Oswald on the part of Great Britain. 
 These formed the basis of the definitive treaty, which 
 was concluded the third of September, 1783, and 
 signed by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, and Mr. Jay, 
 on the one part, and by Dr. David Hartley on the 
 other. 
 
 On the third of April, 1783, a treaty of amity and 
 commerce, between the United States and Sweden, 
 was concluded at Paris by Dr. Franklin and th 
 Count Von Kiutz. 
 
 A similar treaty with Prussia was concluded ir 
 1 785, not long before Dr. Franklin s departure froro 
 Europe. 
 
 Dr. Franklin did not suffer his political pursuits to 
 engross his whole attention. Some of his perform 
 auces made their appearance in Paris. The object 
 on these were 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 importance, that the King. 
 
126 LIFE OF 
 
 appointed commissioners to examine into the foun 
 dation of this pretended science. Dr. Franklin was 
 one of the number. After a fair and diligeat exami 
 nation, in the course of which Mesmer repeated a 
 number of experiments, in the presence of the com 
 missioners, some of which were tried upon them 
 selves, they determined that it was a mere trick, in 
 tended to impose upon the ignorant and credulous 
 Mesmer was thus interrupted in his career to wealth 
 and fame, and a most insolent attempt to impose 
 upon the human understanding baffled. 
 
 The important ends of Dr. Franklin s mission be 
 ing completed by the establishment of American 
 Independence, and the infirmities of age and disease 
 coming upon him, he became desirous of returning 
 to his native country. Upon application to congress 
 to be recalled, Mr. Jefferson was appointed to suc 
 ceed him, in 1785. Some time in September of the 
 same year, Dr. Franklin arrived in Philadelphia. He 
 was shortly after chosen a member of the supreme 
 executive council for the city, and soon after was 
 elected president of tue same. 
 
 When a convention was called to meet in Philadel 
 phia, in 1787, for the purpose of giving more energy 
 to the government of the union, by revising and 
 Emending the articles of confederation, Dr. Franklin 
 was appointed a delegate from the state of Pennsyl 
 vania. He signed the constitution which they pro 
 posed for the union, and gave it the most unequivo 
 cal marks of his approbation. 
 
 A society for political inquiries, of which Dr. 
 Franklin was president, was established about this 
 period. The meetings were held at his house. Two 
 r three essays read in this society were published. 
 It did not long continue. 
 
 la the year 1787, two societies were established in 
 Philadelphia, founded on the principles of the most 
 liberal and refined humanity The Philadelphia So 
 ciety for alleviating the miseries of public prisons; 
 *nd the Pennsylvania Society, for promoting the abo 
 Htion of slavery, the relief of free negroes unlawfully 
 held in bondage, and the improvement of the condition 
 vf the African race. Of each of tl^ese Dr. Franklin 
 
DR. FRALtKNN. 127 
 
 was president The labours of these bodies have 
 been crowned with great success ; and they continue 
 to prosecute, wnh unwearied diligence, the laudable 
 designs for which they were established. 
 
 Dr. Franklin s increasing infirmites prevented his 
 regular attendance at the council-chamber ; and in 
 1788, he retired wholly from public life. 
 
 His constitution had been a remarkably good one, 
 He had been little subject to disease, except an at 
 lack of the gout occasionally, until about the year 
 1781, when he was first attacked with symptoms o 
 the calculou3 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 fa 
 culties were entirely unimpaired, even to the hour of 
 his death. 
 
 His name as president of the abolition society, was 
 signed to the memorial presented to the hou.se of re 
 presentatives of the United States, on the twelfth of 
 February, 1789, praying them to exert the full extent 
 of power vested in them by the constitution, in dis 
 couraging the traffic of the human species. This was 
 his last public act In the debates to which this me 
 morial gave rise, several attempts were made to jus 
 tify the trade. In the Federal Gazette of March 25th, 
 there appeared an essay, signed Historicus, written 
 by Dr. Franklin, in which he communicated a speech, 
 said to have been delivered in the Divan of Algiers, 
 in 1687, in opposition to the prayer of the petition of 
 a set called Erika, or purists, for the abolition of 
 piracy and slavery. This pretended African speech 
 was an excellent parody of one delivered by Mr. 
 Jackson of Georgia. All the arguments used in fa 
 vour of negro slavery, are applied with equal force 
 to justify the plundering and enslaving of Europeans. 
 It affords, at the same time, a demonstration of the 
 futility of the arguments in defence of the slave trade, 
 and of the strength of mind and ingenuity of the 
 author, at his advanced period of life. It furnished 
 too, a no less convincing proof of his power of imitat 
 ing the style of other times and nations than his ce 
 lebrated parable against oersecution. And as the 
 
K8 LIFE OP 
 
 latter led many persons to search the Scriptures with 
 a view to find it, so the former caused many persona 
 to search the book-stores and libraries for the work 
 from which it was said to be extracted.* 
 
 In the beginning of April following, he was attack 
 ed with fever and acomplaintof his breast, which ter- 
 ininted 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 fo 
 several years, had for the last twelve months confin 
 jd him chiefly to his bed ; and, during the extreme 
 gainful paroxysms, he was obliged to take large doses 
 >f laudanum to mitigate his tortures still, in the 
 *ntervals of pain, he not only amused himself with 
 -eading and conversing cheerfully with his family, 
 and a few friends who visited him, but was often 
 employed in doing business of a public as well as 
 private nature, with various persons who waited on 
 him for that purpose ; and in every instance display 
 ed, not only that readiness and disposition of do-ing 
 good, which was the distinguished characterestic of 
 his life, but the fullest and clearest possession of his 
 uncommon mental abilities; and not unfrequently 
 indulged himself in those jeux d esprit and entertain 
 ing anecdotes, which were the delight of all who 
 heard him. 
 
 About sixteen days before his death, he wa 
 seized with a feverish indisposition, without any 
 particular symptoms attending it, till the third 01 
 fourth day, when he complained of a pain in the 
 left breast, which Increased till it became extremely 
 acute, attended with a cough and laborious breath 
 ing. During this state, when the severity of hh 
 pains sometimes drew foith a groan of complaint, he 
 would observe that he was afraid he did not bear 
 them as he ought acknowledged his grateful sense 
 of the many blessings he had received from that 
 Supreme Being, who had raised him from small and 
 low beginnings to such high rank and consideration 
 
 * TLw ipeech will be found *moof hb Esiaji. 
 
DR. FKANKxJJN. 12? 
 
 among men and made no doubt but his present af 
 flictions were kindly intended to wean him from a 
 world, in which he was no longe fit to act the parl 
 assigned him. In this frame of body and mind he 
 continued till five days before his death, when his 
 pain and difficulty of breathing entirely left him, and 
 his family were flattering themselves with the hopes 
 of his recovery, when an imposthumation, which had 
 formed itself in his lungs, suddenly burst, and ^is 
 charged a great quantity of matter, which he con r 
 tinued to throw up, while he had sufficient strength 
 to do it ; but, as that failed, the organs of respiration 
 became gradually oppressed a cairn lethargic stata 
 succeeded and, on the 17th of April, 1790, about 
 eleven o clock at night, he quietly expired, closing a 
 long and useful life of eighty-four years and threa 
 months." 
 
 It may not be amiss to add to the above account, 
 that Dr. Franklin, in the year 1735, had a seveuo 
 pleurisy, which terminated in an abscess of the left 
 lobe of his lungs, and he was then almost suffocated 
 with the quantity and suddenness of the discharge. 
 A second attack, of a similar nature, happened some 
 years after this, from which he soon recovered, and 
 did not appear to suffer any mconvenieooe in his 
 lespiration from these events. 
 
 The following epitaph on himself, was tvrltten by 
 llim many years previous to his death 
 
 THE BODY 
 of 
 
 BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, 
 
 Printer, 
 (like the cover of an old book, 
 
 its contents torn out, 
 and atript of its lettering and gilding 
 
 lies here food for worms ; 
 yet the work itself shall not be lost, 
 
130 LIFE OF 
 
 for it will (as ne believed) appear once more 
 
 in a new 
 
 and more beautiful edition, 
 corrected and amended 
 bj 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 EXTRACTS 
 
 FROM THE LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF 
 
 DR. FRANKLIN. 
 
 \\ITH regard to my books, those I had in France, 
 and those 1 left in Philadelphia, being now assembled 
 together here, and a catalogue made of them, it ia 
 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 philo 
 sophical society of Philadelphia, of which I have the 
 honour to be president. My colleciion in folio of 
 11 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 Horary com 
 pany of Philadelphia. Such and so many of my 
 books as I shall mark, in the said catalogue, with the 
 name of my grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, I 
 do herehy give to him : and such and so many of rny 
 bocks as I shall mark in the said catalogue with the 
 name of my grandson William Bache, \ do hereby 
 give to ivim : and such as shall be marked with the 
 lia.ne of Jonathan Williams, 1 hereby give to my 
 cousin of that nam3. The residue, and remainder of 
 all my books, manuscripts and papers, I do give to 
 my grnndson William Temple Franklin. My share 
 in the library company of Philadelphia I give to my 
 grandson Benjamin Franklin Bache, confiding that 
 he ?vi)l permit his brothers and sisters to share in tho 
 uw of it. 
 
DR. FRANKLIN. 131 
 
 1 was born in Boston, in New England, and owe 
 my first instructions in literature to the free grammar- 
 schools established there, i therefore give one hun 
 dred pounds sterling to my executors, to be by them, 
 the survivors or survior of them, paid over to the man 
 agers or directors of the free-sci ols in my native 
 town of Boston, to be by them, or tne person or per 
 sons, who shall have the superintendence and man 
 agement of the said schools, put out to interest, and 
 so continued at interest forever ; which interest an 
 nually shall be laid out in silver medals, and giveo 
 as honorary rewards annually by the directors of the 
 said free schools, for the encouragement of scholar 
 ship 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 per 
 sons as the legislature of this state, by an act of the 
 assembly, shall appoint to receive the same, in trust, 
 to be employed for making the Schuylkill navigable. 
 
 During the number of years I was in business as a 
 stationer, printer, and post-master, a great many 
 small sums became due to me, for books, advertise 
 ments, 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 subse 
 quent appointments continued there till 1775 when, 
 on my return, I was immediately engaged in the 
 affairs of congress, and sent to France in 1776, where 
 I remained nine years, not returning till 1785 ; and 
 Hie said debts not being demanded in such a length 
 of time, havs become in a manner obsolete, yet are 
 nevertheless justly due. These as they are stated in 
 my great folio ledger, E, I bequeath to the contribu 
 tors ?f the Pennsylvania hospital, hoping that those 
 debtors, and the descendants of such a? are deceased, 
 who now, as 1 find, make some difficulty of satisfying 
 uch antiquated demands as just debts, may, how 
 ever, be induced to pay or give them as charity to 
 that excellent institution. 1 am sensible that muck 
 6 * 
 
KB LIFE OF 
 
 must bet inevitably lost; but I hope something 
 considerable may be recovered. It is possible, too, 
 that some of che partias charged may have existing 
 old unsettled accounts against me ; in which case the 
 managers of the said hospital will al ow and deduct 
 the amount, or pay tiie balance, if they find it against 
 ir.e. 
 
 I request rny freinds, Henry Hill, Esq. John Jay, 
 Esq. Francis Hopkinson, and Mr. Edward Duffield 
 of Bonfield, in Philadelphia county, to be the execu 
 tors of this my last will and testament, and I hereby 
 nominate and appoint them for that purpose. 
 
 I would have my body buried with as little expense 
 or ceremony as may be. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA, 
 
 July, 17, 1788. 
 
 CODICIL. 
 
 I, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, in the foregoing or annexed 
 iast \v;ll and testament, having further considered the 
 same, do think proper to make and publish the fol 
 lowing codicil, or addition thereto : 
 
 It having long been a fixed and political opinion of 
 mine, that in a democratical state there ought to be no 
 offices of profit, for the reason I had given in an arti 
 cle of my drawing in o.?r constitution, it was my in* 
 tention, when I accepted ihe office of president, to 
 devote the appointed salary to some public use : ac 
 cordingly I had aheady, before I made my last will, 
 in July iast, given large sums of it to colleges, schools, 
 building of churches, &c. and in that will I bequeath 
 ed two thousand pounds more to the state, for the 
 purpose of making the Schuylkill navigable ; but un 
 derstanding since, that such a sum would do but lit 
 tle towards accomplishing such a work, and that the" 
 project is riot likely to be undertaken for many years 
 locome and having entertained another idea, which 
 I liope may be more extensively useful, I do hereby 
 revoke and annul the bequest, and direct that the 
 
Dr. FRANKLLN. 133 
 
 certificates I have for what remains duo to me of that 
 salary, be sold towards raising the sum of two thou 
 sand pounds sterling, to be disposed of as I am now 
 about to order. 
 
 It has been an opinion, tliat he who receives an 
 estate from his ancestors, is under some obligation 
 to transmit the same to posterity. This obligation 
 lies not on me, who never inherited a shilling from 
 any ancestor or relation. I shall, however, if it it 
 rot diminished by some accident before my death 
 leave a considerable estate among my descendant* 
 and relations. The above observation is made mere , 
 ly as some apology to my family, for my making be. 
 quests that do not appear to have any immediate re 
 lation 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 therefore consider 
 ed those schools in my will. 
 
 But I am also under obligations to the state Ql 
 Massachussetts, for having, unasked, appointed me 
 formerly their agent, with a handsome salary, which 
 continued some years ; and, although I accidentally 
 lost in their service, by transmitting Governor Hut- 
 chinson s letters, much more than the amount of 
 what they gave me, I do not think that ought in the 
 least to diminish my gratitude. I have considered 
 that, among artisans, good apprentices are most like 
 ly to make good citizens: and having myself been 
 bred to a manual art, printing, in my native town, 
 and afterwards assisted to set up my business in Phi 
 ladelphia 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 io me 
 I wish to be ueful even after my death, if possible, io 
 forming and advancing other young men, that may be 
 serviceable to their country hi both these towns. 
 
 To this end I devote two thousand pounds sterling, 
 which I give, one thousand thereof to the inhabitant? 
 of the town of Boston, in Massachusetts, and the 
 other thousand to the inhabitants of the city of Phi 
 ladelphia, in trust, to and for the uses, intents, and 
 purposes, herein after mentioned and declared. 
 
ESSAYS 134 
 
 The said sum of one thousand pounds sterling, if 
 accepted by the inhabitants of the town of Boston, 
 shall be managed under the direction of the select 
 men, united with the ministers of the oldest episco 
 palian, 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 
 artificers, under the age of twenty-five years, as have 
 served an apprenticeship in the said town, and faith 
 fully fulfilled the duties required in their indentures 
 BO 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 re 
 payment of the money so lent, with interest, accord 
 ing to the terms herein after prescribed ; all which 
 bonds are to be taken for Spanish milled dollars, 
 or the value thereof in current gold coin ; and the 
 managers shall keep a bound book, or books, where 
 in shall be entered the names of those who shall ap 
 ply for, and receive the benefit of this institution, 
 and of their sureties, together with the sums lent, 
 the dates, and other necessary and proper records, 
 respecting the business and concerns of this institu 
 tion : and as these loans are intended to assist young 
 married artificers, in setting up their business, they 
 are to be proportioned by tne discretion of the man 
 agers, so as not to exceed sixty pounds sterling to one 
 person, nor to be less than fifteen pounds. 
 
 And if the number of appliers so entitled should 
 be 3 ^ large as that the sum will not suffice to afford 
 to every one some assistance, these aids may there- 
 fore be small at first, but as the capital increase by 
 the accumulated interest, they will be more ample. 
 And in order to serve as many as possible in their 
 turn, as well as to make the repayment of the princi 
 pal borrowed more easy, each borrower shall be 
 obliged to pay with the yearly interest one-tenth part 
 of the principal; which sums of principal and inter 
 est so paid in, shall be again let out to fresh borrow 
 ers. And it is presumed, that there will be always 
 found in Boston virtuous and benevolent citizens, 
 willing to bestow a part of their time in doing good 
 to ihe rising generation, by superintending and man 
 
DR. FRALIKNN. I3a 
 
 aging this institution gratis ; it is hopecf, that no part 
 of the money will at any time lie dead, or be divert 
 ed to other purposes, but be continually augmenting 
 by the interest, in which case there may in time be 
 more than the occasion in Boston may require : and 
 then some may be spared to the neighbouring or 
 other towns in the said state of Massachusetts, which 
 may desire to have it, such towns engaging to pay 
 Dunctually the interest, and the proportions of th 
 principal annually to the inhabitants of the town o 
 Bostoi.. If this plan is executed, and succeeds, a 
 projected, without interruption for one hundred year?, 
 the sum will be then one hundred and thirty-one 
 thousand pounds ; of which I would have the mana 
 gers 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 inhabitants : such as fortifications, 
 bridges, aqueducts, public buildings, baths, pave- 
 ments, or whatever may make living in the town more 
 convenient 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 directed, for one 
 hundred years ; as I hope it will have been found, 
 that the institution has had a good effect on the con 
 duct of youth, and been of service to many worthy 
 characters and useful citizens. At the end of this 
 second term, if no unfortunate accident has prevent 
 ed the operation, the sum will be four millions and 
 sixty one thousand pounds sterling, of which J leave 
 oi*e million and sixty one thousand pounds to the dia- 
 oosition and management of the inhabitants of th 
 town of Boston and the three millions to the disposi 
 tion of the government of the state ; not presuming ta 
 carry my views farther. 
 
 All the directions herein given respecting the dis 
 position and management of the delation to tht 
 inhabitants of Boston, I would have observed re 
 respecting that to the inhabitants of Philadelphia, 
 anly as Philadelphia is incorporated, I request the 
 corporation of that city to undertake the manage* 
 
13G LIFE OP 
 
 ment, agreeable to said directions : and I do hereby 
 vest them with full and ample powers for that pur 
 pose. And having considered that the covering its 
 ground plat with buildings and pavements, which 
 >:arry off most rain, and prevent its soaking into the 
 varth, and renewing and purifying the springs, 
 whence the water of the wells must gradually grow 
 worse, and in time be unfit for use, as 1 find has hap 
 pened in all old cities ; I recommend, that, at the 
 end of the first hiunlred years, if not done before, th 
 corporation of the city employ a part of the hand re 
 thousand pounds in bringing by pipes the water of 
 the Wissahicon-creek into the town, so as to supply 
 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 Schuyl- 
 kill 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 
 manner as herein directed with respect to that of the 
 inhabitants of Boston and the government of Mas 
 sachusetts. It is my desire that this institution 
 should take place, and begin to operate within one 
 } ear after m}^ decease - r for which purnose due notice 
 should be publicly given, previous to the expiration 
 of that year, that those for whose benefit this esta 
 blishment is intended may make their respective ap 
 plications: and I hereby direct my executors, the 
 survivors and survivor of them, within six months 
 after my decease, to pay over the said sum of two 
 thousand pounds sterling to such persons as shalJ be 
 <fluly appointed by the select men of Boston, and tha 
 corporation of Philadelphia, and to receive and take 
 charge of their respective sums of one thousand 
 pounds each foi the purposes aforesaid. Consider 
 ing the accidents to which all human affairs and pro 
 jects are subject in such a length of time, I have per 
 haps too much flattered myself with a vain fancy, 
 that these dispositions, if carried into execution, will 
 OB continued without interruption, and have the ef 
 
Oft. FKANRLIN. 13t 
 
 fccts proposed ; I hope, however, that if the inhabi 
 tants of the two cities should not think fit to under 
 take the execution, they will at least accept the ofiei 
 of tiiese donations, as a mark of my good will, token 
 of my gratitu te, and testimony of my desire to be 
 useful to them even after my departure. I wish, in 
 deed that they may both undertake to endeavour the 
 execution of my project, because I think, that, though 
 unforeseen difficulties may arise, expedients will b 
 found to remove them, and the scheme be foun 
 practicable. If one of them accepts the money with 
 Jne conditions, and the other refuses, my will then is 
 lhat both sums be given to the inhabitants o*f the city 
 accepting ; the whole to be applied to the same pur 
 poses, and under the same regulations directed fot 
 the separate parts ; and if both refuse, the money 
 remains of course iti the mass of my estate, and it is 
 to be disposed of therewith, according to my will 
 made the seventeenth day of July, 1788. 
 
 My fine crab-tree walking-stick, with a gold head 
 curiously wrought in the form of the Cap of Liberty, 
 I give to my friend, and the friend of mankind, 
 General Washington. If it were a sceptre, he hat 
 merited it, and would become it. 
 
ESSAYS 
 
 HUMOROUS, MORAL. AJYD 
 LITERARY. 
 
 ON EARLY MARRIAGES. 
 To John Alleyn, Esq. 
 
 You desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on th 
 subject of an early marriage, by way of answer to 
 Ihe numberless objections that have been made by 
 numerous persons to your own. You may remember, 
 when you consulted me on the occasion, that I thought 
 youth on both sides to be no objection. Indeed, from 
 the marriages that have fallen under my 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 uncom 
 plying, 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 famfly, yet 
 the parents and elder friends of young married per. 
 sons are generally at hand to afford their advice 
 which amply supplies that defect ; and, by early mar 
 riage, youth is sooner formed to regular and usefu 
 life ; and possibly some of those accidents, or con 
 nexions, that might have injured the constitution, or 
 eputation, or both, are J hereby happily prevented 
 Particular circumstances of particular persons, may 
 possibly sometimes make it prudent to delay entering 
 into that state ; but, in general, v/hen nature has ren 
 clered our bodies fit for it, the presumption is in na 
 ture s favour, that she has not judged amiss in mak- 
 
ESSAYS. 139 
 
 ing 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 melan 
 choly reflection to those whose case it may be ! With 
 us in America, marriages are generally in the morn 
 ing of life ; our children are therefore educated and 
 settled in the world by noon ; and thus, our business 
 being done, we have an afternoon and evening o 
 cheerful leisure to ourselves, such as our friend at 
 present enjoys. By these early marriages we are 
 : blsssed vvitli more children ; and from the mode 
 among us, founded by nature, of every mother suck 
 ling and nursing 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 congratulate you most 
 cordially upon it. You are now in the way of be 
 coming a useful citizen ; and you have escaped 
 Hie unnatural state of celibacy for life the fate of 
 many here, who never intended it, but who having too 
 long postponed the change of their conditions, find, 
 at length, that it is too late to think of it, and so live 
 ftll their lives in a situation that greatly lessens a 
 man s value. An odd volume of a set of books, 
 *>ears not the value of its proportion to the set ; what 
 *hink you of the odd half of a pair of scissors; it 
 cant well cut any thing; it may possibly serve to 
 scrape a trencher. 
 
 Pray make my compliments and best wishes ac 
 ceptable to your bride. I arn old and heavy, or I 
 hould ere this have presented them in person, f 
 hall make but small use of the old man s privilege, 
 hat of giving advice to younger friends. Treat your 
 wife always with respect; it will procure respect to 
 you, not only from Ler, 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 stucHous in your p r o 
 fession, and you will be learned. Be industrioiio and 
 frugal and you will be rich. Be sober and remper- 
 ate, and you will be healthy. Be ingeneial virtu 
 
140 ESSAYS. 
 
 ous, and you will be happy. At least, you will, by 
 such conduct, stand the best chance for such con 
 sequences. I pray God to bless you both ! being 
 ever your affectionate friend, 
 
 B. FRANKLIN 
 
 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 preparation for living. A ma:i is not 
 completely born until he be dead. Why then should 
 we grieve that a new child is born among the immor 
 tals, a new member added to their happy society ? 
 We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while 
 while they can afford us pleasure, assist us in acquir 
 ing knowledge, or doing good to our fellow-creatures, 
 is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they 
 become unfit for these purposes, and afford us pain 
 instead of pleasure, instead of an aid becomes an 
 incumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for 
 which they were given, k is equally kind and bene 
 volent that a way is provided by which we may get 
 rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in 
 some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A 
 mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, w 
 willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, part 
 with it freely, since the pain goes with it : and he 
 who quits the whole body, parts at once with all 
 pains, and possibilities of pains and diseases, it was 
 liable to, or capable of making him suffer. 
 
 Our friend and we are invited abroad on a party 
 of pleasure, which is to last for ever. His chair waa 
 ready first ; and he is gone before UP. We could not 
 all conveniently start together ; and why should you 
 
ESSAV& 141 
 
 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 KECEIVF.D your kind letter, with your excellent 
 advice to the people of the United States, which 1 
 read with great pleasure, and hope it will be duly 
 regarded. Such writings, though they may be lightly 
 passed over by many readers, yet if they make a 
 deep impression on one active mind in a hundred, 
 the effects may be considerable. 
 
 Permit me to mention one little instance, which, 
 though it relates to myself, will not be quite uninter 
 esting to you. When 1 was a boy, I met with a 
 book entitled * Essays to do good," which I think 
 was written by your father. It has been so little re 
 garded by a former possessor, that several leaves oi 
 it were torn out ; but the remainder gave me such a 
 turn of thinking, as to have an influence on my con 
 duct through life ; for I have always set a greater 
 value on the character of a doer of good, than any 
 other kind of reputation ; and if 1 have been, as you 
 eeem to think, a useful citizen, the public owes the 
 advantage of it to that book. 
 
 You mention your being in your seventy-eighth 
 year. 1 am in my seventy-ninth. We are g r own old 
 together. It is now more than sixty years since I left 
 Boston ; but I remember well both your father and 
 grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, 
 and seen them in their houses. The last time 1 saw 
 your father was the beginning of 1 724, when I visited 
 
MS ESSAYS. 
 
 him after my first trip to Pennsylvania. He received 
 me in his library ; and, on my taking leave, showed 
 me a shorter way put of the house, through a nar 
 row passage, which, was crossed by a beam over 
 head. We were still talking as I withdrew, he ac 
 companying me behind, and I turning partly towards 
 him, when he said hastily, " Stoop ! stoop !" I die? 
 not understand him till I felt my head hit against the 
 beam. He was a man who never missed any occa 
 sion of giving instruction ; and upon this he said t 
 jne : " You are young, and have the world before 
 you : stoop as you go through it, a?nd yr>u 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 mis 
 fortunes brought upon people by their carrying their 
 heads too high. 
 
 I long much to see a^ain my native place ; and 
 once hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. 
 I visited it in 1 733, 1 743, 1 753, and 1 763 ; and in 1 773 
 "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 couM not 
 obtain my dismission from this employnJient here; and 
 now I fear I shall never have that happiness. My 
 best wishes however attend my dear country, " esto 
 perpetual It is now blessed with an excellent con 
 stitution : may it last for ever ! 
 
 This powerful monarchy continues its friendship 
 for the United States. It is a friendship of the ut 
 most importance to our security, and should be care 
 fully cultivated. Britain has not yet well digested 
 the loss of its dominion over us ; and has still at 
 imes some flattering hopes of recovering it. Acci 
 4entsmay increase those hopes, and encourage dan 
 gerous attempts. A breach between us and France 
 would infallibly bring the English again upon our 
 Dacks: and yet we have some wild beasts among 
 our countrymen, who are endeavouring to weaken 
 that connexion. 
 
 Let us preserve our reputation, by performing oui 
 engagements ; our credit, by fulfilling our contracts ; 
 Qnd our friends, by gratitude and kindness : for we 
 
ESSAYS 143 
 
 know not how soon we may again have occasion for 
 all of them. 
 
 With great and sincere esteem, 
 I have the honour to be, 
 
 Rev. Sir, 
 Your most obedient and 
 
 Most humole se?rant, 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 Pussy, May 12th, 1784. 
 
 THE WHISTLE 
 A True Story Written to his Nephew. 
 
 WHF.N I was a child, at seven yeais old, uiy 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 vo 
 luntarily offered him all my money for one. I then 
 came home, and went whistling all over the house, 
 much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the 
 family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, un 
 derstanding 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 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 pleasuro. ^ 
 
 This, however, was afterwards of use to me, the 
 impression continuing on my mind ; so that often 
 when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing 
 I said to myself, Uori t give too much for the whistle ; 
 and so I saved my money. 
 
 As I grew up, came into the world, and observed 
 die actions of men, I thought I met with many, very 
 many, who gave too much for their whistle. 
 
 When I saw any one too ambitious of court fa 
 vours, sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, 
 nis repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his 
 
144 ESSAYS. 
 
 friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, This man 
 gives too much for his whistle. 
 
 When I saw another fond of popularity, constant 
 ly employing himself in political bustles, neglecting 
 his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect ; 
 Jfe pays indeed, says I, too much for his whistle. 
 
 If 1 knew a miser, who gave up every kind oi 
 comfortable living, all the pleasure of doing good lo 
 others, all the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the 
 joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of -accu 
 mulating wealth ; Poor man, says I, you do indeed 
 pay too much for your whistle. 
 
 When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing ever> 
 laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, 
 to mere corporeal sensations ; Mistaken man, says I, 
 you are providing pain for yourself instead of plea 
 sure : 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 con 
 tracts debts, and ends his career in prison ; Alas, 
 says I, he has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle.. 
 
 When I see a beautiful sweet tempered girl, mar 
 ried to an ill-natured 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 mise 
 ries of mankind were brought upon them by the false 
 estimates they had made of the value of tilings, and 
 by their giving too much for their whistks. 
 
 A PETITION. 
 
 To those who have the Superintendency of 
 
 Education. 
 
 I ADDRESS myself to all the fHands of youth, an* 
 conjure them to direct their compassionate regards to 
 my unhappy fate, in order to remove the prejudices 
 of which 1 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 
 
ESSAYS. W 
 
 other, than my sister and myself, were it not for the 
 partiality of our parents, who made the most injuri 
 ous distinctions between us. From my infancy, I 
 have been led to consider my sister as a being, of a 
 more elevated rank. I was suffered to grow up with 
 out the least instruction, while nothing was spared 
 in her education. She had masters to teach her 
 writing, drawing, music, and other accomplishments 
 but if, by chance, I touched a pencil, a pen, or 
 needle, I was bitterly rebuked ; and more than one 
 3 have been beaten for being awkward, and wanting 
 a giaceful manner. It is true, my sister associated 
 me with her upon some occasions ; but she always 
 made a point of taking the lead, calling upon me 
 only from necessity, or *.o figure by her side. 
 
 But conceive not, Sirs, that my complaints are in 
 stigated merely by vanity No; my uneasiness is 
 occasioned by an object much more serious. It is 
 the practice in our family, that ihe whole business 
 of providing for its subsistence falls upon nry sistei 
 and myself. If any indisposition should attack my 
 sister and I mention it in confidence upon this oc 
 casion, that she is subject to the gout, the rhumatism, 
 and cramp, without making mention of other acci 
 dents what would be the fate of our poor family? 
 Must not the regret of our parents be excessive, at 
 having placed so great a difference between sisters 
 who are so perfectly equal ? Alas ! we must perish 
 from distress : for it would not be in my power even 
 to scrawl a suppliant petition for relief, having been 
 obliged to employ the hand of another in transcrib 
 ing the request which I have now the honour to pre 
 fer to you. 
 
 Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible o 
 die injustice of an exclusive tenderness, and cf tie 
 necessity of distributing theircare and affection among 
 all their children equally. 
 
 I am, with a profound respect, 
 
 Sirs, 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 THE LEFT HAND 
 
146 ESSAVS. 
 
 HANDSOME AND DEFORMED LEG/ 
 
 THERE are two sorts of people in the world, who, 
 with equal degrees of health and wealth, and the 
 other comforts of life, become, the one happy, 
 and the other miserable. This arises very much from 
 the different views in which they consider things 
 persons, and events : and the effect of those differen 
 views upon their own minds. 
 
 In whatever situation men can be placed, they ma 
 find conveniences and inconveniences: in whatever 
 companVjthey may find persons and conversation more 
 or less pleasing : at whatever table, they rnay meet with 
 meats and drinks of better and worse taste, dishes bet* 
 ter and worse dressed : in whatever climate, they will 
 find good and bad weather : under whatever govern 
 ment, they may find good and bad laws, ana good 
 and Oad administration of those iaws : 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 defects, good and 
 bad q-ualites. 
 
 Under these circumstances, the two sorts of peo 
 ple 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 
 contrarieties. Hence they are continually discon 
 tented themselves, and, by their remarks, sour the 
 pleasures of society ; offend personally many people, 
 and make themselves every where disagreeable. I 
 fhis turn of mind was founded in nature, such un 
 happy persons would be the more to be pitied. But 
 as the disposition to criticise, and to be disgusted, is, 
 perhaps, taken up originally by imitation, and is, 
 unawares, grown into a habit, which, though at pre 
 sent strong, may nevertheless be cured, when those 
 who have it are convinced of its bad effect on theif 
 felicity ; I hope this little admonition may be of ser 
 vice to them, and put them on changing a habit 
 
ESSAVS. 147 
 
 wiich, though in the exercise it is chiefly an act of 
 imagination, yet it has serious consequences in life, 
 as it brings on real griefs and misfortunes. For as 
 many as are offended by, and nobody loves, this sort 
 of people ; no one shows them more than the most 
 common civility and respect, and scarcely that} 
 and this frequently puts them out of humour, and 
 draws them into disputes and contentions. If they 
 aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune 
 obody wishes them success, or will stir a step, o 
 peak a word to favour their pretensions. If they 
 incur public censure or disgrace, no ore will defend 
 or excuse, and many join to aggravate their miscon 
 duct, and render them completely odious. If those 
 people will not change this bad habit, and conde 
 scend to be pleased with what is pleasing, without 
 fretting themselves or others about the contrarieties, 
 it is good for others to avoid an acquaintance with 
 them, which is always disagreeable, and sometimes 
 very inconvenient, especially when one finds ona s 
 self entangled in their quarrels. 
 
 An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, 
 from experience, very cautious in this particular, and 
 carefully avoided any intimacy with such people. 
 He had, like other philosophers, a thermometer to 
 show him the heat of the weather; and a barometer 
 to mark when it was likely to prove gooa or bad ; 
 but there being no instrument invented to discover, 
 at first sight, this unpleasing disposition in a person, 
 he, for that purpose, made use of his legs : one of 
 which was remarkably handsome; the other, by 
 some accident, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, 
 at first interview, regarded his ugly leg more than 
 is handsome one, he doubted him. If be spoke o> 
 t, and took no notice of the handsome leg, that wa 
 ufficient to determine my philosopher to have no 
 further acquaintance with him. Every body has not 
 this two-legged instrument; but every one, with a 
 little attention, may observe signs of that carping, 
 fault-finding disposition, a nd take the same resolution 
 of avoiding the acquaintance of those infected wrth 
 it. I therefore advise those critical, querulous, dis 
 contented, unhappy people, if they wish to be re- 
 
ESSA1S. 
 
 and beloved by others, and happy in them* 
 MJlves, they should leave off looking at ike ugly leg. 
 
 CONVERSATION OF A COMPANY OF 
 EPHEMERAE ; 
 
 With the Soliloquy of one advanced in Age. 
 
 TO MADAME BRILLIANT 
 
 fc - 
 
 You may remember, my dear friend, that when 
 we lately spent that happy day, in the delightful 
 garden and sweet society of the Moulin Joly, I 
 fitopt 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 understand all the inferior animal tongues; my too 
 great application to the study of them is the best ex 
 cuse 1 can give for the little progress I have made in 
 your charming language. I listened through curiosi 
 ty to t) u discourse of these little creatures; but as 
 they, in their national vivacity, spoke three or four 
 together, I could make but little of their conversa 
 tion. I found, however, 4ay some broken expres- 
 i sions that I heard now and then, they were disputing 
 :f warmly on the merit of two foreign musicians, one a 
 1 cousin, the other a muscheto ; in which dispute they 
 spent their time, seaming as regardless of the short 
 ness of the"r life as if they had been sure of living 
 montn. Happy people, thought I, you live certainly 
 under a. wise, just, and mild government, since yo 
 have no public grievances to complain of, nor any 
 other subject of contention but the perfections or im 
 perfections of foreign music. I turned my head from 
 ihem to an old grey-headed one, who was single on 
 another leaf, and talking *o himself. Being amused 
 mn his soliloquy, I put it down in writing, in hope* 
 
ESSAYS. 149 
 
 It will likewise amuse her to whom I am so much 
 indebted for the most pleasing of all amusements, 
 her delicious company and heavenly harmony. 
 
 " It was," says he, " the opinion of learned phi 
 losophers of our" race, who lived and flourished Ion? 
 before i,iy time, that this vast world, the Moulin Joty 
 could not itself subsist more than eighteen hours . 
 and I think there was some foundation for that opi 
 nion ; since, by the apparent motion of the great lu 
 minary, that gives life to all nature, and which i 
 my time has evidently declined considerably toward 
 the ocean at the end of the earth, it must then finish 
 its course, be extinguished in the waters that sur 
 round us, and leave the world in cold and darkness, 
 necessarily producing universal death and destruc 
 tion. 1 have lived 7 of those hours ; a great age, being 
 no less than 420 minutes of time ! How very few ol 
 us continue so long? I have seen generations born, 
 flourish, and expire. My present friends are chil 
 Jien and grand-children of the friends of my youth, 
 who are now, alas, no more ! And I must soon fol 
 low them ; for, by the common course of nature, 
 hough still in health, I cannot expect to live above 
 even or eight minutes longer. What now avails all 
 ny toil and labour, in amassing the honty-dew 
 m this leaf, which I cannot live to enjoy. What 
 ny political struggles I have been engaged in, for the 
 r ood of my compatriot inhabitants of this bush, or 
 ny philosophical studies, for the benefit of our race 
 .i general: for in politics (what can laws do with- 
 Hit morals?) our present race of ephemerae will in a 
 Bourse of minutes became corrupt, like those of othei 
 uid older bushes, and consequently as wretched. 
 Ind in philosophy how small our progress. Alas 
 <jt is long, anil life is short ! My friends would com 
 m me with the idea of a name, they say, I shall 
 jave behind me ; and they tell me I have lived long 
 nough to nature and to glory. But what will fame 
 c to an ephemerae who no longer exists? and what 
 vill become of all history in the eighteenth hour, 
 /hen the world itself, even the whole Moulin Joly, 
 mil come to its end, and be buried in an universal 
 lin ?" 
 
150 ESSAYS. 
 
 To me, after all my eager pursuits, no sobd plea 
 sures new remain, but the reflection of a long life 
 spent in meaning well, the sensible conversation of a 
 few good lady ephemerae, and now and then a kind 
 smile and a ture from the ever amiable, Brillisrit. 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
 a 
 
 MORALS OF CHESS. 
 
 PLAYING at chess is the most ancient and univer 
 sal game known among men ; for its original is be 
 yond the memory of history, and it has, for number 
 less ages, been the amusement of all the civilized 
 nations of Asia, the Persians, the Indians, and the 
 Chinese. Europe has had it above a thousand years ; 
 the Spaniards have spread it over their parts of 
 America, and it begins to make its appearance in 
 these States. It is so interesting in itself, as not to 
 need the view of gain to induce engaging in it ; and 
 thence it is never played for money. Those, there 
 fore, 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 prac 
 tice of it, shows, at the same time, that it may : in 
 its effects on the mind, be not merely innocent, but 
 advantageous, to the vanquishei as well as the 
 victor. 
 
 The game of chess is not merely an idle amuse 
 ment. Several very valuable qualities of the mind 
 useful in the course of human life, are to be acquirea 
 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 winch there is a 
 vast variety* of good and ill events, that are, in fome 
 degree, the effects of prudence or the want of it. By j 
 playing at chess then, we learn, 
 
 I. Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, 
 considers the consequences that may attend an ac 
 tion , for it is continually occurring to the player, 
 
ESSAYS. 151 
 
 "If I move this piece, what will be th~e advantage of 
 my new situation? What use can my ackersary 
 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 relations of the several 
 pieces and situations, the dangers they are respec 
 tively exposed to, the several possibilities of their 
 aiding each other, the probabilities that the adver 
 sary may take this or that move, and attack this 01 
 the other piece, and what different means can be 
 used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences 
 against him. 
 
 III. Caution, not to make our moves too hastily. 
 This habit is best acquired by observing strictly the 
 laws of the game, such as, " If you touch a piece, 
 you must move it somewhere ; if you set it down you 
 must let it stand :" and it is therefore best that these 
 rules should be observed ; as the game thereby be 
 comes more the image of human life, and particu 
 larly of war; in which, if you have incautiously put 
 yourself into a bad and dangerous position, you can 
 not obtain your enemy s leave to withdraw your 
 troops, and place them more securely, but you must 
 abide all i- ie conee juences 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 favour 
 able change, an-d that of persevering in the search of 
 resources. The game is so full of events, there is such 
 a variety of turns in it, the fortune of it is WD sub 
 ject to 3udden vicissitudes, and one so frequently, 
 ifter long contemplation, discovers the means of ex- 
 ricating one s self from a supposed insurmountable 
 difficulty, that one is encouraged to continue the con 
 test to Che last, in hope of victory by our own skill, 
 or at least of giving a stale mate, by the negligence of 
 our adversary. And whoever considers, what in 
 chess he often sees instances of, that particular pieces 
 of success are apt to produce presumption, and its 
 consequent inattention, by which the loss may be t*e 
 covered, will learn not to be too iurh discouraged by 
 
H2 ESSAYS. 
 
 the present success of his adversary, nor to despair of 
 final good fortune, upon every little check he receives 
 ,n the pursuit of it. 
 
 That we may, therefore, be induced more fre 
 quently too choose this beneficial amusement, in pre 
 ference 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, disrespectful, or 
 that in any way may give uneasiness, should he 
 avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention oi 
 both the players, which is to pass the time agreeably. 
 
 Therefore, first, If it is agreed to play according ta 
 the strictest rules ; then those rules are to be exactly 
 observed by both parties, and should not be insisted 
 on for one side, while deviated from by the other 
 for this is not equitable. 
 
 Secondly, If it is agreed not to observe the rules 
 exactly, but one party demands 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 un 
 easiness 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 
 tioor, or with your fingers on the table, nor do any 
 thing that may disturb his attention. For all these 
 things displease; and they eto not show your skill in 
 playing, but your craftiness or your rudeness. 
 
 Fifthly, You ought not to endeavour to amuse 
 and deceive your adversary, by pretending to have 
 made bad moves, and saying that you have now lost 
 the game, in order to make him secure and careless, 
 and inattentive to your schemes: for this is fiattd 
 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 toe much pleasure ; but endeavour to con- 
 4ole your adv^-sary, and make him Issu dissatisfied 
 
BSSAYS. ft3 
 
 with himself, by every kind of civil expression that 
 may be used with truth ; such as, " You understand 
 the game better than I, but you are a little inattentive; 
 or, you play too fast; or, you had the best of the 
 game, but something happened to divert your 
 thoughts, and that turned it in my favour." 
 
 Seventhly, If you are a spectator while others play, 
 observe the most perfect silence. For if you giv 
 advice, you offend both parties; him against whom 
 5-011 give it, because it may cause the loss of his game 
 and him, in whose favour you gave it, because, 
 though *it be good, anjd he follows it, he loses the 
 pleasure he might have had, ifj r ou had permitted 
 him to think until it had occurred to himself. Even 
 after a move, or moves, you must not, by replacing 
 the pieces, show how it might have been placed bet 
 ter ; for that displeases, and may occasion dispute* 
 and doubts about their true situation. All talking 
 to the players lessens or diverts their attention, and 
 is therefore unpleasing. Nor should you give the 
 least hint to either party, by any kind of noise or 
 motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be a spec 
 tator. If you have a mind to exercise or show your 
 judgment, do it in playing your own game, when you 
 have an opportunity, not in criticising, or meddling 
 with, or counselling the play of others. 
 
 Lastly, If the game is not to be played rigorously, 
 according to the rules above mentioned, then mode 
 rate your desire of victory over your ndversary, and 
 be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not ea 
 gerly a* every advantage offered by his unskilfulnesft 
 or inattention ; but point out to him kindly, that bf 
 such a move he places or leaves a piece in dange? 
 and unsupported ; that by another he will put hip 
 king in a perilous situation, &c. By this generoi* 
 civility (so opposite to the unfairness above forbid 
 den) you may, indeed, happen to lose the game tt 
 your own opponent, but you will win what is bet 
 ter, his esteem, his respect, and his affection ; to 
 gether with the silent approbation and good-will tf 
 impartial spectators. 
 
154 ESSAYS. 
 
 THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT 
 DREAMS. 
 
 Inscribed to Miss * * *, 
 
 BEING WRITTEN AT HER REQUEST. 
 
 As a great part of om life is spfent in sleep, durinp 
 which we ha/e sometimes pleasing and sometime 
 painful dreams, it becomes of some consequence to 
 obtain the one kind, and avoid the other ; for whe 
 ther real or imaginary, pain is pain, and pleasure if 
 pleasure. If \ve 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, iant gague, so much added *2 plea 
 sure of life. 
 
 To this end it is, in the first place, necessary to be 
 careful in preserving health, by due exercise and 
 great temperance ; for, in sickness, the imagination 
 is disturbed ; and disagreeable, sometimes terrible 
 idsas are apt to present themselves. Exercise should 
 precede meals, not immediately follow them : the 
 first promotes* the latter, unless moderate, obstructs 
 digestion. If after exercise, we feed sparingly, the 
 digestion will be easy and good, the body lightsome, 
 the temper cheerful, and all the animal functions 
 performed agreeable. Sleep, when it follows, will 
 be natural and undisturbed. While indolence, with 
 full feeding, occasions night-mares and horrors inex 
 pressible : we fall from precipices, are assaulted by 
 wild beasts, murderers, and demons, and experience 
 every variety of distress. Observe, however, that 
 he quantities of food and exercise are relative things: 
 hose 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 cook 
 ery, eat about twice as much as nature requires 
 Suppers are not bad, if we have not dined; but rest 
 less nights naturally follow hearty suppers, after full 
 dinners. Indeed, as there is a difference in tonsti 
 tutions, some rest well after these meals ; it costs 
 them only a frightful drearn and an apoplexy, afta 
 
ESSAYS. 155 
 
 which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing is more 
 common in the newspapers, than instances of peo 
 ple, who, after eating a hearty supper, are found dead 
 a-bed in the morning. 
 
 Another means of preserving health, to be attend 
 ed to, is the having a constant supply of fresh air in 
 your bed-chamber. It has been a great mistake, the 
 sleeping hi rooms exactly closed, and in beds sur 
 ounded by curtains. JNo outward ah, that may 
 ome into you, is so unwholesome as the unchanged 
 air, often breathed, of a close chamber. As boilinj 
 water does not grow hotter by longer boiling, if tha . 
 particle* that receive greater heat can escape ; so liv 
 ing bodies do not putrefy, if the particles, as fast as 
 they become putrid, can be thrown off. Nature ex 
 pels them by the pores of the skin and lungs, and in 
 a free open air, they are carried off; but, in a close 
 room, we receive them again and again, though they 
 become more and more corrupt. A number of per 
 sons crowded into a small room, thus spoil the air in 
 a few minutes, and even render it mortal, as in tha 
 Black Hole at Calcutta. A single person is said 
 only to spoil a gallon of air per minute, and there 
 fore requires a longer time to spoil a chamberful , 
 but it is done, however, in proportion, and many 
 putrid disorders have hence their origin. It is re 
 corded 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, 
 u Arise, Methusalem, and build thee an house, foi 
 thou shalt iive yet five hundred years longer." But 
 Methusaiem answered and said ; " If 1 am to liva 
 but five hundred years longer, it is not worth whil 
 to build me an house 1 will sleep in the air as 
 have been used to do." Physicians after having fo 
 ages contended that the sick should not be indulged 
 with fresh air, have at length discovered .that it may 
 do them good. It is therefore to be hoped, that they 
 may in time discover likewise, that it is not hurtful to 
 those who are in health ; and that we may then be 
 cured of ihe aerophobia that at present distresses 
 weak minds, and makes them choose to be stif^d and 
 7 * 
 
156 ESSAYS. 
 
 noisoned, rather than leave open the window of a 
 ucd chamber, or put down the glass of a coach. 
 Confined air, when saturated with perspirable 
 matter,* will not receive more ; and that matter must 
 remain in our bodies, and occasion diseases : but to 
 give some previous notice of its being about to be 
 hurtful, by producing certain uneasiness, slight in 
 deed at first, such as, with regard to the lungs, is a 
 trifling sensation, and to the pores of the skin a kind 
 cf restlessness which is difficult to describe, and few 
 that feel it know the cause of it. But we may re 
 collect, that sometimes, on waking in the night, we 
 have, if warmly covered, found it difficult to get to 
 sleep again. We turn often, without finding repose 
 in any position, ihis figettiness, to use a vulgar 
 expression for want of a better, is occasioned wholly 
 by an uneasiness in the skin, owing to the retention 
 of the perspirable matter the bed-clothes having 
 received their quantity, and, being saturated, refusing 
 to take any more. To become sensible of this by an 
 experiment, let a person keep his position in the bed, 
 but throw off the bed-clothes and suffer fresh air to 
 approach the part uncovered of his body ; he will 
 nen feel that part suddenly reiresneii ; for the air 
 will immediately relieve the skm, by receiving, lick- 
 fng up, and carrying off, the load of perspirable mat- 
 :er that incommoded it. For every portion of cool 
 air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its 
 part of that vapour, receives therewith a Jegree of 
 neat, that rarefies and renders it lighter, wh^n it will 
 be pushed away, with its burden, by cooler and there 
 fore heavier fresh air; which, for a moment, sup- 
 lies its place, and then, being likewise .hanged, 
 and warmed, gives way to a succeeding quantity. 
 This is the order of nature, to prevent annuals be- 
 ng infected by then own perspiration. Ho will now 
 be sensible of the difference between the part exposed 
 
 * What physician! call the perspirable matter, iij tV-t vaprmr 
 Moh passes off from our bodies, from the Jungs, and through *he pored 
 *\*<t acin. The quantity of this it said to be five- eights of what Tft 
 
ESSAYS. 157 
 
 to the air, and that which, remaining sunk in the 
 bed, denies the air access : for this part now mani 
 fests its uneasiness more distinctly by the cnmpari 
 son, and the seat of the uneasiness is more plainly 
 perceived, than when the whole surface of the body 
 was affected by it. 
 
 Here then is one great and general cause of im 
 pleasing dreams. For when the body is uneasy, tho 
 mind will be disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas 
 |f various kinds will, in sleep, be the natural conse 
 quences. The remedies, preventive and curative, 
 follow. 
 
 1. By eating moderately (as before advised for 
 health s sake) less perspirable matter is produced in a 
 given time ; hence the bed-clothes receive it longer 
 be^Jre they are saturated ; and we may, therefore, 
 "^eep longer, before we are made uneasy by their re 
 fusing to receive any more. 
 
 2. By using thinner and more porous bed-clothes, 
 which wiil suffer the perspirabte matter more easily 
 to pass through them, we are less incommoded, such 
 being logger tolerable. 
 
 3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, 
 and find you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, 
 beat up and turn your pillow, shake the bed clothes 
 well, with at least twenty shakes, then throw the 
 bed open, and leave it to cool ; in the meanwhile, 
 continuing undrest, walk about your chamber, till 
 your skin has had time to discharge its load, which 
 it will do sooner as the air may be drier and colder. 
 When you begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, then 
 return to your bed ; and you w ll soon fall asleep, 
 and your sleep will be sweet and pleasant. All the 
 Scenes presented to your fancy will be of the pleasing 
 fcind. I am often as agreeably entertained with them, 
 as by the scenery of an opera. If you happen to be 
 too indolent to get out of bed, you may, instead oi it, 
 lift your bed-clothes with one arm and leg, so as to 
 draw in a good deal of fresh air, and by letting them 
 fall, force it oirt again ; this, repeated twenty times, 
 will so e 3ar them of the pe spirable matter they 
 have mboed, as to perrrt v;;r sleeping well fojf 
 
158 ESSAYS. 
 
 some time afterwards. But this latter method Is 
 not equal to the former. 
 
 Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to 
 have Ivvo beds, will find great luxury in rising, when 
 they wake in a hot bed, and going into the cool one. 
 Such shifting ot beds would also be of great service 
 to persons ill of a fever, as it refreshes and frequently 
 procures sleep. A very large bed, that will admit a 
 removal so distant from the first situation as to be 
 cool and sweet, may in a degree answer the samfl 
 eno. 
 
 One or two observations more will conclude this 
 tittle piece. Care must be taken, when you lie 
 clown, to dispose your pillow so as to suit your man 
 ner of placing your head, and to be perfectly easy ; 
 then place your limbs so as not to bear inconvenient 
 ly hard upon one another; as for instance, the joints 
 of your ancles : for though a bad position may at first 
 give but little pain, and be hardly noticed, yet a con 
 tinuance will render it less tolerable, and the uneasi 
 ness may come on while you are asleep, and disturb 
 your imagination. 
 
 These are the rules of the art. Bui though they 
 will generally prove effectual in producing the end 
 intended, there is a case in which the most punctual 
 observance of them will be totally fruitless. I need 
 not mention the case to you, my dear friend : but my 
 account of the art would be imperfect without it. 
 The case is, when the person who desires to hava 
 the pleasant dreams has not taken care to preserve 
 k what is necessary, above all things, 
 
 1 A GOOD CONSCIENCE. 
 
ESSAYS. t 
 
 ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. 
 Written anno 1748. 
 
 TO MY FRIEND, A. B. 
 
 At /ou have desired it of me, T write the following 
 amis, which have been of service to me, and may 
 if observed, be so to you. 
 
 REMEMBER that time is money. He that can earn 
 ten shillings a-day by his labour, and goes abroad, 
 jrt sits idle one half of that day, though he spends 
 byt six pence during his diversion OT idleness ought 
 nA to reckon tkat the only expense; he has really 
 sjrnt, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides. 
 
 Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his 
 money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me 
 the interest, or so much as I can make of it during 
 that time. This amounts to a considerable surn 
 where a man has good and large credit, ami makes 
 good use of it, 
 
 Remember that money is of a prolific generating 
 nature. Money can beget money, and hsoffsp. v ng 
 can beget more, and so on. Five shillings turned is 
 six ; turned again is seven and three pence ; and so 
 n till it become? an hundred pounds. The more 
 there is of it, the more it produces every turning, so 
 that the profits n<* quicker and quicker. lie that 
 kills a breeding sov, destroys all her offspring to the 
 thousandth generatiiio. He that murders a crown, 
 destroys all that it mignt have produced, even scores 
 r >f pounds. 
 
 Remember that six oounds a-year is but a groal 
 a-day. For this littl sum (which may be daily 
 wasted either in time or expense, unperceived) a 
 man of credit may, on his own security, have the 
 constant possession and use of an hundred pounds. 
 So much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious 
 man, produces great advantage. 
 
 Remember this saying. " The good paymaster if 
 lord of another man s j>urse." He that is known lo 
 
1GO ESSAYS. 
 
 pay punctually and exactly to the t me he promises, 
 may at any time, and on any occasi in, raise all th 
 money his friends can spare. This is sometimes of 
 great use. After industry and frugality, nothing con 
 tributes more to the raising of a yot ng man in the 
 world, than punctuality and justice in all his deal 
 ings : therefore never keep borrowed money an hour 
 beyond the time you promised, lest a disappointment 
 shut up your friend s purse for ever. 
 
 The most trifling actions that affect a man s cre 
 dit are to he regarded. The sound of your hammer 
 at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a 
 creditor, makes him easy six months longer : but if 
 he sees you at a billiard-table, or hears your voice at 
 a tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for 
 his money the next day ; demands it before lie 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 a.a 
 an honest man, and that still increases your credit. 
 
 Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, 
 asi i of living accordingly. It is a mistake that man} 
 necple who have credit fall into. To prevent this, 
 keep an exact account, for some time, both of your 
 expenses and your income. If you take the pains at 
 first to mention particulars, it will have this good 
 effect ; you will discover how wonderfully small tri 
 fling expenses mount up to large sums, and will dis 
 cern what might have been, and may for the future 
 be saved, without occasioning any great inconve 
 nience. 
 
 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 ail he can 
 honestly, and saves all he gets (necessary expences 
 excepted), will certainly become rich if that Being, 
 who governs the world, to whom all should look for 
 a blessing on their honest endeavours, doth not in his 
 wise providence otherwise determine. 
 
 AN OLD TRADESMAN 
 
ESSAYS. 161 
 
 NECESSARY HINTS TO THOSE THAT 
 WOULD BE RICH. 
 
 WRITTEN ANNO 1 736. 
 
 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 
 hundred pounds, provided you are a man of known 
 arudence and honesty. 
 
 He that spends a groat a-day idly, spends idly 
 above six pounds a-year, which is tiie price for th 
 use of one hundred pounds. 
 
 He that wastes idly a gioat s worth of his time per 
 day, one day with another, wastes the privilege of 
 using one hundred pounds each year. 
 
 He that idly loses five shillings worth of time loses 
 fre 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 dealing; which, by the time that a young man 
 becomes old, will amount to a considerable sum of 
 money. 
 
 Again ; he that sells upon credit, asks a price for 
 what he sells equivalent to the principal and interest 
 of his money for the time he is to be kept out of it ; 
 therefore, he that buys upon credit, pays interest for 
 A-hat he buys; and he that pays ready money, might 
 let that money out to use ; so that he that possesses 
 any thing he has bought, pays interest for the use of it 
 
 Vet, in buying goods, it is best to pay ready money 
 oecause, he that sells upon credit, expects to lose fivo 
 
 !>er cent, by bad debts ; therefore lie charges, on all 
 IQ sells upon credit, an advance that shall make up 
 that deficiency. 
 
 Those who pay for what they buy upon credit, pay 
 .heir share of this advance. 
 
 He that pays ready money, escapes, or may escape 
 that charge. 
 
 A penny sav d is twopence clear ; 
 A pin a day s a groat a year. 
 
3 ESSAYS. 
 
 THE WAY TO MAKE MONEY PLENTY 
 IN EVERY MAN S POCKET. 
 
 At this time, wnen the general complaint is that 
 * money is scarce," it will be an act of kindness to 
 nt .rm the moneyless how they may reinforce their 
 pockets. 1 will acquaint them with the true secret 
 of money-cafcching the certain way to fill empty 
 purses and how to keep them always full. TWG 
 simple rules, well observed, will do the business. 
 
 Frst, Let honesty and Industry be thy constant 
 companions ; and, 
 
 Secondly, Spend one penny less than thy cleai 
 gains. 
 
 Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to 
 thrive, and will never again cry with the empty belly 
 ach : neither will creditors insult thee, nor want op 
 press, no hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze thee. 
 The whole hemisphere will shine brigher, and plea 
 sure 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 
 hide thy face at the approach of the rich, nor suffer 
 Vhe pain of feeling little when the sons of fortune 
 walk at thy right hand : for independency, whether 
 with Iktle or much, is good fortune, and placeth thee 
 on even ground with the proudest of the goldeit 
 eece. Oh, then, be wise, and let industry walk with 
 hee in the morning, and attend thee until thou 
 eachest the evening hour for rest. Let honesty be 
 s 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 richs, nor pocket an abuse because the hand 
 which offers it wears a ring set with diamonds. 
 
ESSAYS. 163 
 
 AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT 
 
 A translation of this Letter appeared in one of the 
 daily papers of Paris about the year 1 784. The 
 following is the origin-al piece, with some addi 
 tions and corrections made by the Author. 
 
 To the Authors of the Journal, 
 
 Yon often entertain us with accounts of new disco 
 veries. Permit me to communicate to the public 
 through your paper, one that has lately been made 
 by myself, and which I conceive may be of great 
 utility. 
 
 I was the other evening in a grand company, 
 where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange 
 was introduced, and much admired for its splen 
 dour ; but a general inquiry was made, whether the 
 oil it consumed was not in proportion to the light it 
 afforded, -n 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 ex 
 pense of lighting our apartments, when every other 
 article t)f family expense was so much augmented. 
 
 I was pleased to see this general concern for 
 economy, for I love economy exceedingly. 
 
 I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after 
 midnight, with my head full of the subject. An ac 
 cidental sudden noise waked me about six in the 
 morning, when I was surprised to find rny room filled 
 with light ; and I imagined at first, that a number of 
 those lamps had .been brought into it : but, rubbing 
 my eyes, I perceived the light came in at the win 
 dows. I got up and looked out to see what might be 
 the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising 
 above the horizon, from whence he poured his rays 
 plentifully into my chamber, my domestic having 
 negligently omitted the preceding evening to close 
 the shvittcn. 
 
164 ESSAYS 
 
 I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and 
 found that it was about six o clock ; and still think 
 ing it something extraordinary tha* the sun should 
 rise S9 early, I looked into the almanack, where I 
 found it to be the hour given for his rising on that 
 day. I looked forward too, and found he was to rise 
 still earlier every day till towards the end of June ; 
 and that at no time in the year he retarded his rising 
 so long as till eight o clock. Your readers, who with 
 me have never seen any signs of sunshine befor 
 noon, and seldom regard the astronomical part o 
 the almanack, will be as much astonished as I was, 
 when they hear of his rising so early ; and especi- 
 ally when I assured them, thai he gives light as soon 
 as he rises. 1 am convinced of this. I am certain 
 of my fact. One cannot be more certain of any fact. 
 I saw it with rny own eyes. And having repeated 
 this observation the three following mornings, I found 
 always precisely the same result. 
 
 Yet it so happens, that when I speak of this disco 
 very to others, I can easily perceive by their coun 
 tenances, though they forbear expressing it in words, 
 that they do not quite believe me. One, indeed, who 
 is a learned natural philosopher, has assured me, that I 
 must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of the 
 light coming into my room ; for it being well known, 
 as he says, that there could be no light abroad at that 
 hour, it follows that none could enter from without ; 
 and that of consequence, my windows being acci 
 dentally left open, instead of letting in the light, had 
 only served to let out the darkness : and he used many 
 ingenious arguments to show me how I might, by 
 that means, have been deceived. I own that he puz- 
 tied me a little, but he did not satisfy me ; and the 
 subsequent observations I made, as above mention* 
 ed, confirmed me in my first opinion. 
 
 This event has given rise, in iny mind, to several 
 serious and important reflections. I considered that, 
 if I had not been awakened so early in the morning, 
 I should have slept six hours longer by the light of 
 the sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the 
 following night by candle-light ; and the latter being 
 a much more expensive light than the formei\ my 
 
SSAVS. 169 
 
 /ove of economy induced me to muster up what little 
 nrithmetic I was master of, and to make some cal 
 culations, which I shall give you, after observing, 
 that utility is, in my opinion, the test of value in mat 
 ters of invention, and that a discovery which can 
 be applied to no use, or is nor. good for something, is 
 good for nothing. 
 
 I took for the basis of my calculation the supposi 
 tion, that there are 100,000 families in Paris and thai 
 hese families consume in the night half a pound o 
 bougies, or candles, per hour. 1 think this is a mo 
 derate allowance, taking one family with another ; for 
 though I believe some consume less, I know that many 
 consume a great deal more. Then estimating seven 
 hours per day,as the medium quantity between the time 
 of the sun s" rising and ours, he rismg during the six 
 following months from six to ei^ht hours before noon, 
 and there being seven hours of course per night in 
 which we burn candles, the account will stand thus : 
 
 In the six months between the twentieth of March 
 and the twentieth of September, there are 
 
 Nights - 183 
 
 "dours of each night in which we bum 
 
 candles 
 
 Multiplication gives for the total number 
 
 of hours ---------- 1,281 
 
 These 1,231 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 Paris by candle-light, which at half 
 a pound of wax and tallow per hour, 
 gives the weight of 64,050,001 
 
 Sixty-four m ilions and fifty thousand of 
 pounds, wmch, estimating the whole at 
 the medium price of thirty sols the 
 pound, makes the sum of ninety-six 
 millions and seventy-five thousand 
 iivrev tnurnois 96,075.000 
 
ICO ESSAYS. 
 
 An immense sum ! that the city of Paris imgnl 
 save every year, by the economy of using sunshine 
 instead of candles. 
 
 If it should be said, that people are apt to be ob 
 stinately attached to old customs, and that it will 
 be difficult to induce them to rise before noon, conse 
 quently my discovery can be of little use ; I answer, 
 JVil desperandum. J believe all who have common 
 sense, as soon as they have learnt from this paper 
 that it is day-light when the sun rises, will contriv [ 
 to rise with him ; and, to compel the rest I wou. \ 
 propose the following regulations : 
 
 First. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on 
 very window that is provided with shutters to keep 
 Hit the light of the sun. 
 
 Second. Let the same salutary operation of po- 
 *ice be made use of to prevent our burning candles, 
 ihat inclined us last winter to be more economical in 
 burning wood ; that is, let guards be placed in the 
 shops of the wax and tallow-chandlers, and no fami 
 ly be permitted to be supplied with more than one 
 pound of candles per week. 
 
 Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all tho 
 coaches, &,c. that would pass the streets after sun 
 set, except those of physicians, surgeons, -~ J mid 
 wives. 
 
 Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the sun ri 
 ses, let all the bells in every church be set a ring 
 ing; and if that is not sufficient, let cannon be 
 fired in every street, to wake the sluggards effectu 
 ally, and make them open their eyes to see their true 
 interest. 
 
 All the difficulty will be in the first two or threa 
 days ; after which the reformation will be as natu 
 al and easy as the present irregularity ; for 
 n est que le premier pas qui voute. Oblige a man to 
 rise at four in the morning, and it is more than pro 
 bable he shall go willingly to bed at eight in the even 
 ing; 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 
 
ESSAVS. 167 
 
 that I have calculated upon only one balf of the 
 year, and much may be saved in the other, though 
 the days are shorter. Besides, the immense stock of 
 wax and tallow left unconsumed during the summer, 
 will probably make candles much cheaper for the 
 ensuing winter, and continue cheaper as long as the 
 proposed reformation shall be supported. 
 
 For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely 
 communicated and bestowed by me on the public, I 
 demand neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, 
 or any other reward whatever. I expect only to 
 have die honour of it. And yet I know there are 
 little envious minds who will, as usual, deny me this, 
 and say, that my invention was known to the an 
 cients, and pernaps they may bring passages out of 
 the old books in proof of it. I will not dispute with 
 these people that the ancients knew not that the sun 
 would rise at certain hours ; they possibly had, as 
 we have, almanacks that predicted it : but it does 
 not follow from thence, that they knew he gave light 
 as soon as he rose. This is whart I claim as my dis 
 covery. 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, a*hd prudent a people 
 as exist any where in the world, all professing, like 
 myself, to be lovers of economy; and from the many 
 heavy taxes required from them for the necessities of 
 the state, have surely reason to be economical. I 
 say, it is impossible that so sensible a people under 
 sueh circumstances, should have lived so long by the i 
 smoky, unwholesome, and enormously expensive^ 
 light of candles, if they had really known that they 
 might nave had as much pure light of the sun for 
 nothing. I am, &c. 
 
 \N ABONNE. 
 
168 ESSAYS 
 
 SKETCH OF AN ENGLISH SCHOOL. 
 
 For the Consideration of the Trustees of the Phila 
 delphia Jicademy. 
 
 IT is expected that every scholar to be admitti d 
 
 into this school, be at least able to pronounce ,ard 
 
 divide the syllables in reading, and to write a 
 
 sgible hand. None to be received that are imd.a 
 
 years of age. 
 
 FIRST, OR LOWEST CLASS. 
 
 Let the first class learn the Englisfo%rammar rule^ 
 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 near 
 est 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 tathe orthography of wnrds, and 
 makes them good spellers very early. It is a shame 
 for a man to be so ignorant of this little art, in his own 
 .\angtiage, as to be perpetually confounding words of 
 like sound and different significations ; the conscious 
 ness of which defect make 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 bo 
 hort ; such as Croxal s fables and little stories. In 
 giving the lesson, let it be read to them ; let the 
 meaning of the difficult words in it be explained to 
 them : and let them con it over by themselves before 
 they are called to read to the master or usher ; who i i 
 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 bfl 
 formed for their use, with explanations; and thej 
 
ESSAYS. 169 
 
 might daily get a few of those words and explanations 
 by heart, which would a little exercise their memo 
 ries ; or a: 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 mitids, and at 
 the same time furnish every one with a little diction 
 ary for his future use. 
 
 THE SECOND CLASS, 
 
 To be taught reading with attention, and with pro 
 per modulations of the voice, according to the senti 
 ment and the subject. 
 
 Some short pieces, not exceeding the length of a 
 Spectator, to be given this class for lessons (and some 
 of the easier Spectators would be very suitable for 
 the purpose.) These lessons might be given every 
 night as tasks , the scholars to study them against 
 the morning. Let it then be required of them to give 
 an account, first of the parts of speech, and construc 
 tion 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 sentence, and of every uncommon word. 
 This would early acquaint them with the meaning 
 and force nJ wqrds, and giving them that most neces 
 sary habit of reading with attention. 
 
 The master then to read the piece with the proper 
 modulations of voice, due emphasis, and suitable ac 
 tion, where action is required ; and put the youth on 
 imitating his manner. 
 
 Where the author has used an expression not th 
 oest, let it be pointed out : and let his beauties ba 
 particularly remarked to the youth. 
 
 Let the lessons for reading be varied, that the youth 
 may be made acquainted with good styles of all kinds 
 in prose and verse, and the proper manner of reading 
 each kind sometimes a well-told story, a piece of a 
 sermon, a general s speech to his soldiers, a speech in 
 a tragedy, some part of a comedy, an ode, a satire, a 
 letter, blank verse. Hudiorastic, "heroic, &c. Bullet 
 such lessons be chosen for reading, as contain some 
 
170 ESSAYS. 
 
 useful instruction, whereby the understanding or mo 
 rals of the youth may at the same time be improved. 
 It is required that they should first study and im 
 derstand the lessons, before they are put upon read 
 ing them properly; to which end each boy should 
 have an English dictionary to help him over difficul 
 ties. 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 o 
 nothing of the meaning. And it is impossible a read 
 er should give the due modulation to his voice, and 
 pronounce properly, unless his understanding goes be 
 fore his tongue, and makes him master of the senti 
 ment. Accustoming boys to read aloud what they do 
 not first understand, is the cause of those even set tones 
 so common among readers, which, when they have 
 once got a habit of using, they find so difficult to cor 
 rect ; by which means, among fifty readers we scarce 
 ly find a good one. For want of good reading, pie 
 ces published wUh 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 
 neighbourhood, a public orator might be heard 
 throughout a nation with the same advantages, and 
 have the same effect upon his audience as if they 
 stood wilnin the reach of Us voice. 
 
 THE THIRD CLASS. 
 
 To be taught speaking properly and gracefully ; 
 which is near a-kin to good reading, and naturally 
 follows it in the studies of youth, fcet 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. Lo* 
 all their bad habits of speaking, nil offences against 
 good grammar, ail corrupt or foreign accents, and all 
 improper phrases be pointed out to them. Short 
 speeches from the Roman or other history, or from 
 the parliamentary debates, might be got by heart, 
 and delivered with the proper action, &c. Speeches 
 and scenes in our best tiagedies and comedies (avoid- 
 
ESSAYS. 171 
 
 ing 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 
 epochs in chronology. They may begin with Rollin s 
 ncient and Roman histories, and proceed at proper 
 ours, as they go though the subsequent classes, with 
 he best histories of our own nation and colonies. Let 
 emulation be excited among the boys, by giving, j 
 weekly, little prizes, or other small encouragements \ 
 to those who are able to give the best account of what 
 they have read, as to times, places, names of persons, 
 &c. This will make them read with attention, and 
 imprint the history well in their memories. In re 
 marking on the history, the master will have fine op- 
 portunites of instilling instruction of various kinds, 
 and improving the morals, as well as the understand 
 ings, 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, i/y 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 enter 
 taining. The merchant may thereby be enabled bet 
 ter to understand many commodities in trade ; the 
 handicraftsman to improve his business by new in 
 struments, mixtures, and materials, and frequently 
 hints are given for new methods of improving land 
 hat may be set on foot greatly to the advantage of a 
 ountry. 
 
 4 
 
 THE FOURTH CLASS. 
 
 To be taught composition. Writing one s own 
 language well, is the next necessary accomplishment 
 after good speaking. It is the writing master s busi 
 ness to take care that the boys make fair characters, 
 and place them straight and even in the lines but to 
 form their style, and even to take care that the stopi 
 " 8 
 
172 ESSAYS. 
 
 and capitals are properly disposed, is the part of th 
 English master. The boys should be put on writing 
 letters to each other on any common occurrences, and 
 on various subjects, imaginary business, &c. con 
 taining little stories, accounts of their late reading, 
 v/hat parts of authors please them, and why ; letters 
 of congratulation, of compliment, of request, of 
 thanks, of recommendation v of admonition, of conso 
 lation, of expostulation, excuse, &c. In these they 
 ^iould be taught to express themselv-es clearly, con 
 cisely, and naturally, without affected words or high 
 lown phrases. All their letters to pass through theif 
 master s hand, who is to point out the faults, advise 
 3he corrections, and commend what he finds right 
 Some of the best letters published in their own Ian 
 wage, as Sir William Temple s those of Pope and 
 is friends, and some others, might be set before the 
 youth as models, their beauties pointed out and ex 
 plained by the master, the letters themselves trans 
 cribed by the scholar. 
 
 Dr. Johnson s Kthices JZlcmenta, or Firs! Principles 
 ef Morality, may now be read by the scholars, and 
 explained by the master, to lay a solid foundation of 
 rirtue and piety in their minds. And as this clasa 
 continues the reading of history, let them now, at 
 tproper hours, receive some farther instruction is 
 chronology and in that part of geography (from th 
 mathematical master) which is necessary to under 
 stand 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 
 t suitable times. 
 
 FIFTH CLASS. 
 
 To improve the youth in composition, they may 
 now, besides continuing to write letters, begin to 
 write little essays in prose, and sometimes in verse, 
 not to make them poets, but for this reason, that no ^ 
 thing 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 
 
ESSAYS. 173 
 
 rhyme of verse, and at the same time we41 express 
 the sentiment. These essays should all pass under 
 the master s eye, who will point out their faults, and 
 put the writer on correcting them. Where the judg 
 ment is not ripe enough for forming new essays, let 
 the sentiments of a Spectator he given, and required 
 to be clothed in the scholars own words ; or the cir 
 umstances oi some good story ; the scholar to fin 
 expression. Let them be put sometimes on abridg 
 
 dil 
 An 
 
 pies 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 exer 
 cises of good reading and just speaking, still continued. 
 
 SIXTH CLASS. 
 
 In this class, besides continuing the studies of the 
 preceding in history, rhetoric, logic, moral and na 
 tural philosophy, the best English authors may be 
 read and explained ; ?* Tillotson, Milton, Locke, 
 Addisori, Pope, Swift, the higher papers in the Spec 
 tator and Guardian, the best translations of Homer, 
 Virgil and Horace, of Telempchus, Travels of Cy 
 rus, &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 dis* 
 tinguish themselves, and excel the others in any 
 branch of learning, making three degrees of com- 
 arison ; giving the best prize to him that perform 
 est, a less valuable one to him that conies up nex, 
 o the best; and another to the third. Commenda* 
 tions, encouragement, and advice to the rest, keep 
 ing up their hopes, that, by industry, they may ex- 
 eel another time. The names of those that obtain 
 the prize, to be yearly printed in a list. 
 
 Trie hours of each day are to be divided and dis 
 posed in such a manner as that some classes may bf 
 with the writing master, improving their hands. 
 
174 ESSAYS 
 
 others with the mathematical master, learning arith 
 metic, accounts, geography, use of the globes, draw 
 ing, mechanics, &,c. ; while the rest are in the En 
 glish school, under the English master s care. 
 
 Thus instructed, youth will come out of this 
 school fitted for learning any business, calling, 01 
 profession, except in such wherein languages are re 
 quired ; and though unacquainted with any ancient 
 or foreign tongue, they will be masters of their own, 
 which is of more immediate and general use ; and 
 withal, will have attained many other valuable ac 
 complishments ; the time usually spent in acquiring 
 those languages often without success, being here 
 employed in laying such a foundation of knowledge 
 and ability, as, properly improved, may qualify them 
 to pass through and execute the several offices of civil 
 life, with advantage and reputation to themselves and 
 country. 
 
 ON MODERN INNOVATIONS IN THE ENGLISH 
 LANGUAGE AND IN PRINTING. 
 
 TO NOAH WEBSTER, JUN. ESQ. AT HARTFORD. 
 
 Philadelphia^ Dec. 26, 1789. 
 
 DEAR 6IR 
 
 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 honour you 
 have done me in its dedication. I ought to have 
 made this acknowledgement sooner, but much in 
 disposition 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 continually falling into with 
 -espect to both. Give me leave to mention some of 
 them, though possibly they may have already occur 
 
ESSAYS. 175 
 
 red to you, I wish, however, flat in some future pub 
 lication of yours, you would set a discount* ww^ g 
 mark upon them. The first I remember i& ttie wuid 
 improved. When I left New England in the yea* 
 1723, this word had never been used among us, as far 
 as I know, but in the sense of ameliorated, or made bet 
 ter, except 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 
 lead that word in his book, used instead of the wor 
 employed, [ conjectured that it was an error of th 
 printer, who had mistaken a short I in the writing fo 
 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, I found this change had 
 obtained favour, 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 become many years improved as a 
 tavern ; and in the character of a deceased country 
 gentlem in, 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 se 
 veral other new words have been introduced into 
 our parliamentary language. For example, I find 
 a verb formed from the substantive notice. I should 
 not have noticed this, were it not that the gentleman, 
 SfC. Also another verb from the substantive advo 
 cate : The gentleman who advocates, or who has ad 
 vocated that motion, $*c. Another from the substan 
 tive progress, the most autfward and abominable of 
 the three : The committee having progressed, resolved 
 to adjourn. The word opposed, though not a new 
 word, 1 find used in a new manner, as, The gentle 
 men who are opposed to this measure, to which I have 
 also myself always been opposed. If you should hap 
 pen to be of my opinion, with respect to those inno 
 vations, you will use your authority in reprobating 
 them 
 
i/ ESSAYS. 
 
 The Latin language, long the vehicle used in dis 
 tributing knowledge among the different nations of 
 Europe, is daily more and more neglected ; and one 
 of the modern tongues, viz. French seems, in point 
 of universality, to have supplied its place. It is 
 spoken in all the courts of Europe ; and most of the 
 literati, those even who do not speak it, have acquir 
 ed a knowledge of it, to enable them easily to read 
 the books that are written in it. This gives^a consi 
 ^erable advantage to that nation. It enables its au 
 thers to inculcate 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 com 
 mon interests of mankind. It is, perhaps, owing to 
 its being written in French, tiiat Voltaire s Treatise 
 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 ara 
 struck off from one composition of types, the profit! 
 increase in a much greater proportion than they do in 
 making a greater number of pieces in any other kind 
 of manufacture. And at present there is no capital 
 town in Europe without a French bookseller s shop 
 corresponding with Paris. Our English bids fair to 
 obtain the second place. The great body of excel 
 lent printed sermons in our language, and the freedom 
 of our writing on political subjects, have induced a 
 great number of divines, of different sects and na 
 tions, as well as gentlemen concerned in public af 
 fairs, to study it so far at least as to read it. And 2 
 we were to endeavour the facilitating its progress, 
 the study of our tongue might become much more 
 general. Those who have employed some part of 
 their time in learning a new language, must have 
 frequently observed, that while their acquaintance 
 with it was imperfect, difficulties, small in them 
 selves, have operated as great ones in obstructing 
 their progress. A book, for example, ill printed, 
 or a pronunciation in speaking not \\-e\l arucu- 
 
ESSAYS. m 
 
 lated, would render a sentence unintelligible, which 
 from a clear prinv or a distinct speaker would have 
 been immediate!/ comprehended. If, therefore, wa 
 would have the benefit of seeing our language more 
 generally known among mankind, we should endea 
 vour to remove all the diihculties, however small, 
 that discourage the learning of it. But I am sorry 
 10 observe that of late years, those difficulties, in- 
 $tead of being diminished, have been augmented. 
 
 In examining the English books that were printed 
 between the Restoration and the accession of George 
 the Second, we may observe that, all substantives 
 were begun with a capital, in which we imitated oui 
 mother-tongue, the German. This was more parti 
 cularly useful to those who were not well acquainted 
 with the English, there being such a prodigious num 
 ber of our words that are. botli verbs and substan 
 tives, and spelt in the same manner, though often ac 
 cented differently in pionounciation. This method 
 has, by the fancy of printers of late years, been en 
 tirely laid aside ; from an idea, that suppressing the 
 capitals shows the character to greater advantage j 
 those letters, prominent above the line, disturbing its 
 even, regular appearance. The effect cf this change 
 .s so considerable, that a learned man of France, who 
 used to read cur books, though not perfectly ac 
 quainted with our language, in conversation with me 
 on the subject of our authors, attributed the greatei 
 obscurity he found in our modern books, compared 
 with those of the period above-mentioned, to a 
 change of style for the worse in our writers : ol 
 which mistake I convinced him, by marking for him 
 each substantive with a capital, in a paragraph 
 which he then easily understood, though before h* 
 eould not comprehend it. This shows the inconve 
 nience of that pretended improvement. 
 
 From the same fondness for an uniform and ever/ 
 appearance of characters in a line, the printers have 
 of late banished also the Italic types, in which words 
 of importance to be attended to in the sense of the 
 sentence, and words on which an emphasis should be 
 put in reading, used to be" printed. And lately ano 
 ther fancy has induced other printers to use the round 
 
173 ESSAYS. 
 
 * instead of the long one, which formerly served wefi 
 to distinguish a word readily by its varied appear 
 ance. Certainly the omitting the prominent letter 
 makes a line appear more even, but renders it less 
 immediately legible; as the paring off ail men s no 
 ses might smooth their features, but would render 
 their physiognomies less distinguishable. Add to all 
 these improvements backwards, another nxxlern fan 
 cy that grey printing is more beautiful than black. 
 Hence the English new books are printed in so dim 
 a character as to be read with difficulty by old eyes 
 unless in a very strong light, and with good glasses. 
 Whoever compares a volume of the Gentleman s 
 Magazine printed between the years 1731 and 1740, 
 with one of those printed in the last ten years, will bs 
 convinced of the much greater degree of perspicuity 
 given by black than by the grey. Lord Chesterfield 
 pleasantly remarked this difference to Faulkener, thb 
 printer of the Dublin Journal, who was vainly mak 
 ing encomiums on his own paper as the most com- 
 pJeie of any in the world. ** But, Mr. Faulkener, * 
 says my Lord, " don t you think it might be still far 
 ther improved, by using paper and ink not quite so 
 near of a colour?" For all these reasons 1 cannot 
 but wish our American printers would, in their edi 
 tions, avoid these tancied improvements, and thereby 
 render thoir works more agreeable to foreigners in 
 Europe, to the great advantage of our bookselling 
 commerce. 
 
 Farther, to be more sensible of the advantage ol 
 clear and distinct printing, let us consider the assist 
 ance it affords in reading well aloud to an auditory. 
 Jn so doing che eye generally slkles forward three 01 
 four words before the voice. If the sight clearly dis 
 tinguishes what the coming words are, it gives time 
 to order the modulation of the voice to express them 
 properly. But if they are obscurely printed, or dis 
 guised by omiting the capitals or long/ s, or other 
 wise, the reader is apt to modulate wrong ; and, find 
 ing he lias done so, ho is obliged to go back and be- * 
 gin the sentence again ; which lessens the pleasure 
 of the Hearers. This leads me to mention an old 
 
ESSAYS. m 
 
 error bi our mode of printing. We~ are sensible, 
 that when a question is met with in the reading 
 there is a proper variation to be used in the rnan 
 agement of the voice : we have, therefore, a pomt 
 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 ho 
 finds that he was wrongly modulating his voice, 
 and is therefore obliged to begin again the sen 
 tence. To prevent this, the Spanisn printers, more 
 sensibly place an interrogation at the beginning as 
 well as at the end of the question. We have ano. 
 ther error of the same kind in printing plays, where 
 something often occurs that is marked as spoken 
 aside. But the word aside is pldced at the end of the 
 speech, when it ought to precede it, as a direction to 
 tne reader, that he may govern his voice accord 
 ingly. The practise 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 
 estem, 
 
 Sir, , 
 
 Your most, obedient and 
 
 Very humble servant, 
 
 B FRANKLIN 
 
,/> ESSAYS. 
 
 Aft MHItrNT OF THE HIGHEST COURT OF JODlCATIfRt 
 IN PENNSYLVANIA, Y1Z. 
 
 THE COURT OF THE PRESS 
 Power of this court. 
 
 It may receive and promulgate accusations of al 
 kinds, against all persons and characters among tha 
 citizens of the state, and against all inferior courts 9 
 and may judge, sentence and condemn to infamy, not 
 only private individuals, but public bodies, &c. with 
 or without inquiry or hearing, at the court s discre 
 tion. 
 
 Whose favour, or for whose emolument this court is 
 established. 
 
 In favour of about one citizen in five hundred, 
 who, by education, or practice in scribbling, has ac 
 quired a tolerable style as to grammar and construc 
 tion, 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 and abus 
 ing the other four hundred and ninety-nine parts at 
 their pleasure ; or they may hire out their pens and 
 press to others, for that purpose. 
 
 Practice of this Court. 
 
 It is not governed by any oi the rules of the com 
 mon 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 na:ji of the accuser 
 made known to him, nor has he an opportunity oi 
 -<*wfronting the witnesses against him, for they are 
 topi in the dark, as in the Spanish court of inquisi 
 tion. Nor is there any petty jury of his peers sworn 
 to try the truth of the charges. The proceedings are 
 also sometimes so rapid, that an honest good citizen 
 may find himself suddenly and unexnectedly accused, 
 
ESSAYS 181 
 
 and in the same moment judged and condemned, 
 and sentence pronounced against him that i>c is a 
 rogue and a villian. Yet if an officer of this court 
 receives the slightest check for misconduct in this bis 
 office, he claims immediately the rights of a free citi 
 een by the constitution, and demands to know his 
 accuser, to confront the witnesses, and have a fair 
 Urial by the jury of his peers. 
 
 The foundation of its authority. 
 
 It is said to be founded on an article in the stat * 
 constitution, which establishes the liberty of the 
 press a liberty which every Pennsylvanian would 
 fight and die for, though f2\v of us, I believe, have 
 distinct ideas of its nature and extent. It seems, 
 indeed, somewhat like the liberty of the press, that 
 felons have, by the common law of England before 
 conviction ; that is, to be either pressed to death or 
 hanged. If by the liberty of the press, we understood 
 merely the liberty of discussing the propriety of pub 
 lic 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 an 
 other, I, for my part, own myself willing to part with 
 my share of it, whenever our legislators shall please 
 to alter the law ; and shall cheerfully consent to ex- 
 thange my liberty of abusing others, for the privi 
 lege of not being abused myself! 
 
 By whom this court is commissioned or 
 constituted. 
 
 It is not by any commission from the supreme ex 
 ecutive council, who might previously judge of the 
 abilities, integrity, knowledge, &c. of the persons to 
 be appointed to this great trust, of deciding upon the 
 characters and good fame of the citizens: for this 
 court is above that council, and may accuse, judge, 
 and condemn it at pleasure. Nor is it hereditary, as 
 is the court of dernier resort in the peerage of En-g- 
 Und. But any man who can procure pen, ink, and 
 
182 ESSAYS. 
 
 psper, with a press, a few types, and a huge pair o 
 blacking balls, may coinmissionate himself, and his 
 court is immediately established in the plenary pos 
 session 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 of this court. 
 
 Its support is founded in the depravity of such 
 minds as have not been mended by religion, nor mi- 
 proved by good education. 
 
 There is a lust in man no charm can tame, 
 Of loudly publishing his neighbour s shame. 
 
 Hence, 
 
 On eagle s wings immortal scandals fly, 
 While virtuous actions a^fi but born and (He. 
 
 Drydtn. 
 
 Whoever feels pain on hearing a good character of 
 his neighbour, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. 
 t And of those who, despairing to rise in distinction by 
 their virtues, are happy if others can be depressed to 
 ajevel with themselves, there are a number sufficient 
 in every great town to maintain one of these courti 
 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 : proba 
 bly he would have formed a different conjecture of 
 ihe temper of those of whom he might find engaged 
 01 such subscriptions. 
 
ESSAYS. 183 
 
 Of the checks proper to be established against thu 
 abuses of power in those courts. 
 
 Hitherto there are none. But since so much has 
 been written and published on the federal constitu 
 tion ; and the necessity of checks in all parts of good 
 government, has been so clearly and learnedly ex 
 plained, 1 find myself so far enlightened as to sus 
 pect some check may be proper in this part also ; but 
 I have been at a loss to imagine any that may net bo 
 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 aug 
 ment it ; which is, by restoring to the people a spe 
 cies of liberty, of which they have been deprived 
 by our laws I mean the liberty of the cudgel ! In the 
 rude state of society, prior to the existence of laws, if 
 one man gave another ill language, the affronted per 
 son might return it by a box on the ear; and, if re 
 peated, by a good drubbing ; and this without offend- 
 ing against any law : but now the right of making 
 such returns is denied, and they are punished as 
 breaches of the peace, while the right of abusing 
 seems to remain in full force ; the laws made against 
 it being rendered ineffectual by the liberty of the 
 press. 
 
 My proposal then is, to leave the liberty of the 
 press untouched, to be exercised in its full extent, 
 force, and vigour, but to permit the liberty of the 
 cudgel to go with it, parri passu. Thus, my fellow- 
 citizens, if an impudent writer attacks your repu 
 tation dearer perhaps to you than your life, and 
 outs his name to the charge, you may go to him as 
 openly, and break his head. If he conceals himsell 
 behind the printer, and you can nevertheless discovei 
 who he is, you may, in IIKB manner, waylay him in 
 the night, attack him behind, and give him a good 
 drubbing. If you adversary hires better writers than 
 himself to abuse you more effectually, you may hire 
 as many porters, stronger than yourself, to assist you 
 in giving him a more effectual drubbing, Thus far 
 goes my project as to private resentment and retri 
 bution. But if the public should ever ha"j*cn to be 
 
184 ESSAYS^ 
 
 affronted, as it ought to be, with the conduct of sucft 
 writers, I would not advise proceeding immediately 
 to these extremities, but that we should in mode 
 ration content ourselves with tarring and feathering, 
 and tossing in a blanket. 
 
 If, however, it should be thought, that this propo 
 sal 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 tha 
 press, and that of the cudgel ; and by an explicit law 
 mark their extent and limits : and at the same tim 
 that they secure the person of a citizen from assaults, 
 they would likewise provide for the security of hii 
 reputation. 
 
 PAPER 
 
 ions c *. 
 
 SOME wit of old such wits of old there wen 
 Whose hints show d meaning, whose allusions- 
 By one brave stroke to mark all human kind 
 Call d clear blank paper ev ry infant mind ; 
 When still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, 
 Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. 
 
 The thought was happy, pertinent and true j 
 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 ma?i. 
 
 Pray note the fop half powder and half Iac*j- 
 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. 
 
ESSAYS. t86 
 
 Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth, 
 Are copy-paper, of inferior worth ; 
 Less priz d, more useful, for your desk decreed, 
 Free to all pens, and prompt at ev ry need. 
 
 The wretch whom av rice bids to pinch and spare, 
 Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, 
 Is coarse brown-paper , such as pedlers choose 
 To wrap up wares, which better men will use. 
 
 Take next the miser s contrast, who destroy? 
 Health, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. 
 Will any paper match him ? Yes, throughout, 
 He s a true sinking-paper, past all doubt. 
 
 The retail politician s anxious thought 
 Deems this side always right, and that stark nought , 
 He foams with censure ; with applause he raves 
 A dupe to rumours, 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 s he ? What ? Touch-paper to be sure. 
 
 What are pur poets, take them as they fall 
 Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all ? 
 Them and their works in the same class you ll find \ 
 They are the mere waste-paper of mankind. 
 
 Observe the maiden, innocently sweet, 
 She s fair white-paper, an unsullied sheet ; 
 On which the happy man, whom fate ordains, 
 May write his name, and take her for his pains. 
 
 One instance more, and only one I ll bring ; 
 Tis the great man who scorns a little thing, 
 Whose thoughts, whose deeds, whose maxims are 
 
 his own, 
 
 Form d on the feelings of his heart alone : 
 True genuine royal-paper is his breast : 
 Of all lie- kinds most precious, purest, boat 
 
186 ESSAYS. 
 
 ON THE ART OF SWIMMING. 
 
 IS ANSWER TO SOME INQUIRIES OF M. DUBOURG * 
 ON THE SUBJECT. 
 
 f AM apprehensive that I shall not be able to find 
 leisure for making all the disquisitions and experi 
 ments, which would be desirable on this subject. I 
 mist, therefore, content myself with a few remarks 
 
 The specific gravity of some human bodies, in 
 comparison to that of water, has been examined by 
 M. Robinson, in our Philosophical Transactions, 
 volume 50, page 30, for the year 1757. He asserts, 
 that fat persons with small bones float most easily 
 uuon water. 
 
 me diving bell is accurately described in oui 
 Transactions. 
 
 When I was a boy, I made two oval pallets, each 
 about ten inches long) and six broad, with a hole 
 for the thumb, in order to retain it fast in the palm 
 of my hand. They much resemble a painter s pal 
 lets. In swimming, I pushed the edges of these for 
 ward, and 1 struck the water with their flat surfaces 
 as I drew them back : I remember I swam faster by 
 means of these pallets, but they fatigued my wrists. 
 I also fitted to the soles of my feet a kind of sandals; 
 but I was not satisfied with them, because I observed 
 that the stroke is partly given by the inside of the 
 feet and the ancles, and not entirely with the soles of 
 the feet. 
 
 1 We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are 
 made of double sail-cloth, with small pieces of cork 
 quilted in between them. 
 
 I knov* nothing -of the scaphandre of M. de la 
 Jhapelle. 
 
 I know by experience, that it is a great com fort to a 
 swimmer, who has a considerable distance to go, ** 
 turn himself sometimes on his back, and to vary in 
 other respects the means of procuring a progressive 
 motion. 
 
 * Translator of Dr. Frai.klin i Worki into Frepch. 
 
ESSAYS. 187 
 
 Wha i he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the 
 m*ihod *f driving it away is to give lo the parts af 
 ford a sudden, vigorous and violent shock ;.wfiich 
 he may do in the air, as he swivns on his back. 
 
 During the great heats of summer, there is no dan 
 ger in bathing, however warm we may be, in rivers 
 which have been thoroughly warmed by the sun. 
 But to throw one s self into cold spring water, when 
 the body has been heated by exercise in the sun, is 
 an imprudence which may prove fatal. I once kne\v 
 an instance of four young men, who, having worked 
 at harvest in the heat of the day, with a view of re 
 freshing themselves, plunged into a spring of cold 
 water : two died upon the spot, a third the next 
 morning, and the fourth recovered with great difficul 
 ty. A copious draught of cold water, in similar cir 
 cumstances, is frequently attended with the same 
 effect in North America. 
 
 The exercise of swimming is one of the most healthy 
 and agreeable in the world. After having swam for 
 an hour or two in the evening, one sleeps coolly the 
 whole night, even during the most ardent heat of 
 summer. Perhaps the pores being cleansed, the in 
 sensible 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 
 knowhovvto swim, or who are affected with a diarrhoea 
 at a season which does not permit them to use thai 
 exercise, a warm bath, by cleansing and putrifying 
 the skin, is found very salutary, and often effects a 
 radical cure. I speak from my own experience, 
 frequently repeated, and that of others, to whom I 
 have recommended this. 
 
 You will not be displeased if I conclude these hasty 
 remarks by informing you, that as the ordinary 
 method of swimming is reduced to the act of rowing 
 with the arms and legs, and is consequently a labo 
 rious and fatiguing operation when the space of water 
 to be crossed^is considerable ; there is a method in 
 which a swimmer may pass to great distances with 
 much facility, hv means of a sail. This discovery ] 
 
188 ESSAYS 
 
 fortunately made by accident, and in the following 
 manner : 
 
 When I was a boy, I amused myself one day with 
 flying a paper kite ; and, approaching the back of 3 
 pond, which was near a mile .broad, I tied the string 
 to a stake, and the kite ascended to a very consider* 
 ble 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 staka 
 the string with the little stick which was fastened to 
 it, went again into the water, where I found, that, 
 lying on myjback, and holding the stick in my hands, 
 I was drawn along the surface of the water in a very 
 agreeable manner. Having then engaged another 
 boy to sarry my clothes round the pond, to a place 
 which I pointed out to him, on the other side, I began 
 to cross the pond with my kite, which carried me 
 quite over without the least fatigue, and with the 
 greatest pleasure imaginable. I was only obliged 
 occasionally to halt a little in my course, and resist 
 its progress, when it appeared that, by following too 
 quick, I lowered the kite too much ; by doing which 
 occasionally I made it rise again. I have never since 
 that time practised this singular mode of swimming, 
 though I think it not impossible to cross in this man 
 ner from Dover to Calais. The packet-boat, how 
 ever, is still preferrable. 
 
 NEW MODE OF BATHING. 
 
 EXTRACTS OR LETTERS TO M. DUBOURG. 
 
 London, July 28, 1768. 
 
 1 GREATLY approve the epithet which you give, in 
 your letter of the 8th of June, to the^iew method ol 
 treating the small-pox, which you call the tonic o- 
 bracing method ; I will take occasion, from it, to 
 uci)iion a practice to which I have accustomed my- 
 
ESSAYS. U9 
 
 self. You know the cold bath has long been in vogue 
 nere as a tonic : but the shock of the cold water hath 
 always appeared to me, generally speaking, as too 
 violent, and I have found it much more agreeable to 
 my constitution to bathe in another element I mean 
 cold air. With this view I rise early almost every 
 morning, and sit in my chamber without any clothes 
 whatever, half an hour or an hour, according to the 
 season, either reading or writing. This practice is 
 not in the teast painful, but on the contrary, agree 
 able ; and "if I return to bed afterwards, before I dress 
 myself, as it sometimes happens, I make a supple 
 ment to my night s rest of one or two hours of the 
 most pleasing sleep that can be imagined. I find nu 
 ill consequences whatever resulting from it, and that 
 at least it does not injure my health., if it does not in 
 fact contribute to its preservation. 1 shall therefore 
 call it a bracing, or tome bath. 
 
 March 10, 1773. 
 
 I SHALL not attempt to explain why damp clothes 
 occasion colds, rather than wet ones, because I 
 doubt the fact ; I imagine that neither the one nor 
 the other contribute to this effect, and that the causes 
 of cold are totally independent of wet, and even of 
 cold. I propose writing a short paper on this sub 
 ject, the first moment of leisure I have at my dispo 
 sal. In the mean time, I can only say, that having 
 some suspicions that the common notion, which at 
 tributes to cold the property of stopping the pores and 
 obstructing perspiration, was ill-feu ided, 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 clothed. 
 H*e pursued the experiment in this alternate man 
 ner for eight hours successively, and found his per- 
 piration almost double during those hours in which 
 ie was naked. 
 
190 ESSAYS 
 
 O1WERVATIONS ON THE GENERALLY PRF.VAILlNfl 
 DOCTRINES OF LIFE AND DEATH. 
 
 To the same. 
 
 YOUR observations on the causes of death, and tni 
 experiments which you propose for recalling to lif j 
 those who appear to be killed by lightning demon 
 strate equally your sagacity and humanity. It ap- i 
 pears that the doctrines of life and death, in general, j 
 are yet but little understood. 
 
 A toad Uuried in the sancl will live, it is said, un- \ 
 til the sa?nd becomes petrified ; and then, being in* 
 closed in the stone, it may live for we know not how 
 many ages. The facts which are cited in support of 
 this opinion, are too numerous and too circumstantial 
 not to deserve a certaki degree of credit. As we are 
 accustomed to see all the animals with which we are 
 acquainted eat and drink, it appears to us difficult to 
 conceive, how a toad can be supported in such a dun 
 geon. But if we reflect that the necessity of nourish 
 ment which animals experience in their ordinary 
 state, proceeds from the continual waste of their sub 
 stance by perspiration ; it will appear less incredi 
 ble, that some animals, in a torpid stale, perspiring 
 less, because they use no exercise, should have less 
 need of aliment; and that others, which are covered 
 with scales oj 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 
 oil, from which it may draw a sufficient quantity o* 
 moisture to supply that which exhales from its sub- 
 Bianco, and is carried off continually by the air. 
 Perhaps, however, if it were buried in quick-silver, it 
 might preserve, for a considerable space of time, itt . 
 vegetable life, its smell and colour. If this be th 
 case, it might prove a commodious method of trans* 
 porting from distant countries those delicate planl 
 which are unable to sustain the inclemency of the 
 
ESSAYS. 191 
 
 WffMtftftr at sea, and which require particular care 
 ana attention. 
 
 I have seen an instance of common flies preserved 
 in a manner somewhat similar. They nad been 
 drowned in Madeira wine, apparently about the time 
 it was bottled in Virginia, to be sent to London. At 
 the opening of one of the bottles, at the house of a 
 friend where I was, three drowned flies fell into the 
 first glass that was filled. Having heard it remarked 
 fhat drowned flies were capable of being revived by 
 the rays of the sun, I proposed making the experi 
 ment upon these. They were therefore exposed to 
 the sun,upon a sieve which had been employed to strain 
 them out of the wine. In less than three hours, two of 
 them by degrees began to recover life. They com 
 menced 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 brush 
 ed their wings with their hind feet, and soon after be 
 gan to fly, finding themselves in Old England, with 
 out knowing how they came thither. The third con 
 tinued lifeless until sun-set, when, losing all hopes of 
 him, he was thrown away. 
 
 I wish it were possiblt, from this instance, to in 
 vent 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 an 
 hundred years hence, I should prefer to an ordinary 
 death, the being immersed in a cask of Madeira 
 wine, with a few friends, until that time, then to be 
 recalled to life by the solar warmth of my dear > 
 country ! But since, in all probability, we live in arv 
 ge too early, and too near the infancy of science, to 
 ee such an art brought in our time to its perfection, 1 
 roust, for the present, content myself with tlie treat, 
 which you are so kind as to promise me, of the resur 
 section of a fowl or a turkey-cock. 
 
> take a long voyage, nothii g < 
 a. secret till the moment of yotii 
 this, you will be continually in 
 
 192 ESSAVS. 
 
 PRECAUTIONS. 
 
 TO BE USED BY THOSE WHO ARE ABOUT TO 
 UNDERTAKE A SEA VOYAGE. 
 
 WHEN you intend to ta 
 better than to keep it a s 
 departure. Without thi _ 
 errupted and tormented by visits from friends and 
 
 cquaintances, who not only make you lose you. 
 valuable time, but make you forget a thousand things 
 which you wish to remember ; so that when you ar6 
 embarked and fairly at sea, you recollect, with much 
 uneasiness, affairs, which you have not terminated* 
 accounts that you have not settled, and a number of 
 things which you proposed to carry with you, and 
 which you rind the want of every moment. Would 
 it not be attended with the best consequences to re 
 form 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 tc receive their good 
 wishes for his happy return. 
 
 It is not always in one s power to choose a cap- 
 *ain ; though great part of the pleasure and happi 
 ness of the passage depends upon this choice, and 
 though one must for a time be confined to his com 
 pany, and be in some measure under his command. 
 If he is a social seusibleman, obliging and of a good 
 disposition, you will be so much the happier. One 
 sometimes meets with people of this description, but 
 hey are not common ; however, if your s be not ol 
 his number, if he be a good seaman, attentive, care. 
 4il, and active in the management of his vessel, you 
 nust 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 oc 
 casionally. You ought therefore to provide good wa 
 ter, that of the ship being often bad but you musi 
 
ESSAYS. 193 
 
 *rt it into bottles, without which you cannot expect 
 k> 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, al 
 monds, sugar, capilaire, 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 undertake the office of feeding 
 and fattening them yourself. With the little care 
 which is taken of them on board a ship, they are al 
 most all sickly, and their flesh is as tough as leather. 
 
 All sailors entertain an opinion, which undoubt 
 cdly originated formerly from a want of water, and 
 when it has been found necessary to be sparing of it, 
 that poultry never knew when they had drank 
 enough, and that when water is given them at dis 
 wTeiion, they generally kill themselves by drinking 
 Beyond measure. In consequence of this opinion, 
 they give them water only once in Iwo days, and 
 even then in small quantities : but as they pour this 
 rater into troughs inclining on one side, which occa 
 sions it to run to the lower part, it. thence happens 
 that they are obliged to mount one upon the back of 
 another in order to reach it; and there are some 
 which cannot even dip their beaks in it. Thus 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 wi? 
 be necessary to divide their troughs into small com 
 partments, in such a manner that each of them may 
 be capable of containing water; but this is seldom 
 or never done. On this account, sheep and hogi 
 are to be considered as the best fresh provisions that 
 one can have at sea ; mutton there, bein^ in general 
 very good, and pork excellent. 
 
 It may happen that some of the provisions and 
 itores, 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 
 
194 ESSAYS. 
 
 who, paying less for their passage, are stowed among 
 the common sailors, and have no right to the cap 
 tain s provisions, except such part of them as is 
 used for feeding the crew. These passengers are some 
 times sick, melancholy, and dejected ; and there are 
 often women and children among them, neither of 
 whom have any opportunity of procuring those things 
 which I have mentioned, and of which perhaps they 
 kdve the greatest need. By distributing amongst 
 them a part of your superfluity, you may be of the great 
 est assistance lo them. You may restore their health, 
 save their lives, and in short render them happy; 
 which always affords the liveliest sensation to a feel 
 ing 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 pur 
 pose, who]forthe most part is equally dirty. Hence comes 
 the proverb used among English sailors, that Godsends 
 meaty and the devil sends cooks. Those, however, 
 who have a better opinion of Providence, will think 
 otherwise. Knowing that sea a r, and the exercise 
 or motion which they receive from the rolling of the 
 ship, have a wonderful effect in whetting the appe 
 tite, they will say, that Providence has given sailors 
 bad cooks to prevent them from eating too much ; 
 or that, knowing they would have bad cooks, he has 
 given them a good appetite to prevent them from dy 
 ing with hunger. However, if you have no confi 
 dence, in these succours of Providence, you may 
 yourself, with a lamp and a boiler, by the help of a 
 little spirits of wine, prepare some food, such as soup, 
 hash, &c. A small oven made of tin-plate is not a 
 ad piece of furniture ; your servant may roast in Jt 
 piece of mutton or pork. If you are ever tempted 
 o 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-bis 
 cuit, which is too hard for the teeth of some people, 
 may be softened by steeping it; but bread double 
 baked is best ; for being made of good loaf-bread cut 
 into slices, and baked a second time, it readily im 
 bibes water, becomes soft, and is easily digested : it 
 
ESSAYS. 195 
 
 consequently forms excellent nourishment, much su- 
 owior to that of biscuit, which has not been ferment 
 ed. 
 
 I must here observe, that this double-baked bread 
 was originally the real biscuit prepared to keep at 
 sea ; fur the word biscuit, in French, signifies twice 
 baked.* Peas often boil badly, and do not beeom* 
 soft; iu such a case, by putting a two-pound sho 
 into the kettle, the rolling of the vessel, by means o 
 his bullet, will convert the peas into a porridge, liX 
 mustard. 
 
 Having often seen soup, when put upon the table 
 at sea in broad flat dishes, thrown out on every sido 
 by the rolling of the vessel, I have wished that our 
 tin-men would make our soup-basins with divisions 
 or compartments ; forming small plates, proper for 
 containing soup for one verson only. By this dis 
 position, 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, permit me now to conclude with 
 some general reflections upon navigation. 
 
 When navigation is employed only for transport 
 ing necessary 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 ratal before it was invented and be 
 came so common ; we cannot help considering it as 
 one of those art which contribute most to the hap 
 piness of mankind. But when it is employed to 
 transport things of no utility, or articles of luxury, it 
 is then uncertain whether the advantages resultin 
 rom it are sufficient to. counter-balarie the misfojr 
 unes it occasioived by exposing the lives of so mar^ 
 ndividuals upon the vast ocean. And when it i 
 used to plunder vessels and transport slaves, it is 
 evidently only the dreadful means of increasing thoso 
 calamities which afflict human nature. 
 
 One is astonished to think on the number of ves 
 sels and men who are daily exposed in going to bring 
 
 * It it derived from " bis * again, " cuit" baked 
 
 9 
 
19S ESSAYS. 
 
 tea from China, coft ee from Arabia, and sugar ariQ 
 tobacco from America; all commodities which our 
 ancestors lived very well without. The sugar trade 
 employs nearly a thousand vessels ; and that of 
 tobacec almost the same number. Witli regard to 
 the utility of tobacco, little can be said ; and, with 
 regard to sugar, how much more meritorious would 
 it be to sacrifice the momentary pleasure which we 
 receive from drinking it once or twice a-day in our 
 
 ea, than to encourage the numberless cruelties that 
 are continually exercised in order to procure it fof 
 os. ? 
 
 A celebrated French moralist said, that, when he 
 considered the wars which we foment in Africa to 
 get negroes, the great number who of course perish 
 in these wars ; the multitude of 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 ima 
 gining it 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, 
 ne 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 
 from the sea. A pound of sugar, indeed, oosts the 
 former not only the price which they give for it, but 
 also .what they pay in taxes, necessary to support 
 
 he fleets and armies which^serve to defend and p-TV 
 
 ect the countries that produce it. 
 
 Sir, 
 
 Vour most, obedient and 
 Very humble servant, 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
ESSAVS. m 
 
 ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND 
 INDUSTRY. 
 
 From a Letter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq. 
 written in 1784. 
 
 IT is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of 
 his world are managed. Naturally one would ima 
 gine that the interest of a fewindividualsrhould giva 
 way to general interest : but individuals manage their 
 affairs with so much more application, industry, and 
 address, than the public do theirs, that general inter 
 est most commonly gives way to particular. We as 
 semble 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 tho 
 nelp of these, artful men overpower their wisdom, 
 ana dupe its possessors; and if we may judge by the 
 acts, arrests, and edicts, all the world over, tor regu 
 lating commerce, an assembly of great men is the 
 greatest fool upon earth. 
 
 I have not yet, indeed, thought of a remedy for 
 luxury. I am not sure that in a great state it is ca 
 pable of a remedy ; nor that the evil is in itself al 
 ways so great as is represented. Suppose we in 
 clude the definition of luxury all unnecessary ex 
 pense, 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 a happier, or even richer. 
 k not the hope of being one day able to purchase and 
 njoy luxuries a great spur to labour and industry? 
 May not luxury, therefore, produce more than i 
 onsumes, 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 circurr- 
 
 * Member of parliament for the borough of Calne, in Wiltshire, 
 between whom and our author there ubisted a very clbie friead. 
 
198 ESSAYS. 
 
 stance. The skipper of a shallop, errylo*<sd oe- 
 tvveen Cape May and Philadelphia, had done its 
 some small service, for which he refused to be paid. 
 My wife understanding 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 far 
 mer of Cape May, his passenger, lie mentioned the 
 cap, and how much his daughter had been pleased 
 with it. " But (said he) it proved a dear cap to ou 
 congregation." " How so ?" " When my daughte 
 appeared with it at meeting, it was so much admired 
 that all the girls resolved to get such CF }>s from Phi 
 ladelphia ; and my wife and I computed that the 
 whole could not have cost less than a hundred 
 pounds." " True (said the farmer) but you do not 
 tell all the story. I think the cap was nevertheless 
 an advantage to us ; for it was the first thing that put 
 our girls upon knitting worsted mittens for sale at 
 Philadelphia, that they might have wherewithal to 
 buy caps and ribbons there ; and you know that that 
 industry has continued, and is likely to continue and 
 increase to a much greater value, and answer better 
 purposes." Upon the whole, I was more reconciled 
 to this little piece of luxury, since not only the girls 
 were made happier by having fine caps, but the Phi- 
 ladelphians by the supply of warm mittens. 
 
 In our commercial towns upon the sea coast, for 
 tunes will occasionally be made. Some of those who 
 grow rich will be prudent, live within bounds, and 
 preserved what they have gained for their posterity; 
 others, fond of showing their wealth, will be extra 
 vagant, and ruin themselves. Laws cannot preven 
 this ; and perhaps it ianot always an evil to the pub 
 ic. A shilling spent idly by a fool, may be picke 
 up by a wiser person, who knows better what to d 
 with \ It is therefore not lost. A vain, silly fellow 
 ouilds a hre house, furnishes it richly, lives in it ex 
 pensively, and in a few years ruins himself; but the 
 masons, carpenters, smiths, and other honest trades 
 men, have been by his employ assisted in maintain 
 ing and raising their families ; the farmer has been 
 paid for his labour, and encouraged, and the estate is 
 *aow in better hands. In some cases, indeed, certain 
 
ESSAYS J99 
 
 modes of luxury may be a public evil, in the same 
 manner as it is a private one. If there be a nation, 
 for instance, that exports its beef and linen, to pay 
 for the importation of claret and porter, while a great 
 part of its people live upon potatoes, and wear no 
 shirts ; wherein does it differ from the sot, who lets 
 his family starve, and sells his clothes to buy drink? 
 Our American commerce is, I confess, a little in this 
 way. We sell our victuals to the islands for rum and 
 Sugar ; the substantial necessaries of life for super 
 fluities. But we have plenty, and live well never 
 theles ; though by being sobe rer, 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 fru 
 gal. Forming an opinion of our people, and their 
 manners, by what is seen among the inhabitants ol 
 the sea-ports, is judging from an improper sample. 
 The people of the trading towns may be rich and 
 luxurious, while the country possesses all the virtues 
 that tend to promote happiness and public prosperity. 
 Those towns are not much regarded by the country; 
 they are hardly considered as an essential part of the 
 States ; and the experience of the last war has shown ; 
 that their being in the possession of the enemy did 
 not necessarily draw on the subjection of the coun 
 try ; which bravely continued to maintain its free 
 dom and independence notwithstanding. 
 
 It has been computed by some political arithme 
 ticians, that if every man and woman would work 
 four hours each day on something useful, that labour 
 would produce sufficient to procure all the necessa 
 ries and comforts of life ; want and misery would be 
 anished out of the world, and the rest of the twenty 
 our honrs might be leisure and pleasure. 
 
 What occasions then so much want and misery ? 
 It is th<j employment of men and women in workf 
 that produce neither the necessaries nor conve 
 niences 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 labour 
 from the earth and waters. I have land, and raise 
 
200 ESS A VS. 
 
 corn. With this if I feed a family that does nothing, my 
 com 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 spin- 
 fling, others in making bricks, &c. for building, J.ha 
 value of my corn will be arrested a..d remain with 
 me, and at the end of the year we may be all better 
 clothed and better lodged. And if, instead of em 
 ploying a nan I feed in making bricks, I employ him 
 m fiddling for me, the corn he eats is gone, and n 
 part of his manufacture remains to augment tha 
 wealth and convenience of the family ; I shall, there 
 fore, be the poorer for this fiddling man, unless the 
 rest of my family v/ork more, or eat less, to make up 
 the deficiency he occasions. 
 
 fr? Look round the world, and see the millions employed 
 in doing nothing, or in something that amounts to 
 nothing, when the necessaries and conveniences of 
 life are in question. What is the bulk of commerce, 
 for which we fight and destroy each other, but the 
 toil of millions for superfluities, to the great hazard 
 and loss of many lives, by the constant dangers of the 
 sea? How much labour is spent in buildings, and fit 
 ting great ships, to go to China and Arabia for tea 
 and coffee, to the West Indies for sugar, to America 
 for tobacco ? These things cannot be called the ne 
 cessaries of life, for our ancestors lived very com 
 fortably without them. 
 
 A question may be asked Could all these people 
 now employed in raising, making, or carrying super 
 fluities, be subsisted by raising necessaries ? I think 
 they might. The world is large, and a great part of 
 it is still uncultivated. Prlany hundred millions of 
 cres hi Asia, Africa, and America, are still in a 
 orest; and a great deal even in Europe. On a hun 
 dred acres of this forest, a man might become a sub 
 stantial farmer ; and a hundred thousand men em 
 ployed 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 
 Ihe whole, the quantity of industry and prudeuc* 
 
ESSAYS. 201 
 
 among mankind exceeds the quantity of idleness and 
 folly. Hence the increase of good biddings, farms 
 cultivated, and populous cities filled with wealth, all 
 over Europe, which a few ages since were only to 
 to be found on the coast of the Mediterranean ; and 
 this notwithstanding the mad wa*s continually rag 
 ing, by which are often destroyed in one year, the 
 works of many years peace. So that we may hope 
 lie luxury of a few merchants on the coast will no 
 de the ruin of America. 
 
 One rejection more, and I will end this long ram 
 Wing letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies re 
 quire some expense. The feet demands shoes ; the 
 legs, stockings; the rest of the body clothing; and 
 the belly a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though 
 exceedingly useful, ask when reasonable, only the 
 cheap assistance of spectacles, which could not much 
 impair our finances. But the eyes of other people 
 are the eyes that ruin us. If all but myself were 
 blind, I should want neither fine clothes, fine houses, 
 nor fine furniture 
 
 ON THE SLAVE TRADE. 
 
 READING in the newspapers >the speech of Mr. 
 Jackson in congress, against meddling with the atlair 
 of slavery, or attempting to mend the condition of 
 ilaves, it put me in mind of a similar speech, made 
 bout one hundred years since, by Sidi Mahome 
 .brahim, a member of the divan of Algiers, which 
 nay be seen in Martin s account of his consulship, 
 1687. It was against granting the petition of the sect 
 called Erika, or Purists, who prayed for the aboli 
 tion 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 arc operated ou 
 
202 ESSAYS. 
 
 with surprising similarity, in all countries and cli 
 mates,. whenever they are under similar circumsian 
 ces. The African speech, as translated, is as foJ- 
 lows: 
 
 " Alia Bismillah, &c. God is great and Mahomet 
 is his prophet" 
 
 44 Have these Erika considered the consequences of 
 granting their petition ? If we cease our cruize 
 against the Christians, how shall we be furnished 
 with the commodities their countries produce, anJ 
 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 ? Wuo are to perform the 
 common labours of our city, and of our families ? 
 Must we not then be our own slaves ? And is there 
 not more compassion and more favour du.e to us 
 Mussulmen than to those Christian dogs? We have 
 now above fifty thousand slaves in and near Algiers, 
 This number, if not kept up by fresh supplies, will 
 soon diminish, and be gradually annihilated. If, 
 then, we cease taking and plundering the infidels* 
 ships, and making slaves of the seamen and passen 
 gers, our lands will become of no value, for want of 
 cultivation ; the rents of houses in the city will sink 
 one half; and the revenues of government arising 
 from the share 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 1 But 
 who is to indemnify their masters for the loss? Will 
 the state do it? Is our treasury sufficient ? Will the 
 Erika do it r Can they do it? Or would they, to do 
 what they think justice to the slaves, do a greater in- 
 ustice to the owners ! And if we set our slaves free 
 what is to be done with them ? Few of them will re 
 turn 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 inter-marrying with them. Must we 
 maintain them as beggars in our streets ; or suffer 
 our properties to be the prey of their pillage ? for men 
 accustomed to slavery will not work for a livelihood 
 
ESSAYS. 203 
 
 when not compelled. And what is there so pitiable 
 in their present con.iition ? Were they not slaves in 
 their own countries? Are not Spain, Portugal, France, 
 and the Italian states, governed by despots, who hold 
 all their subjects in slavery, without exception? 
 Even England treats her sailors as slaves ; for they 
 are, whenever the government pleases, seize 1 and con 
 fined in ships of war, condemned not only to work 
 but to fight lor small wages, or a mere subsistence 
 not better than our slaves are allowed by us. Ii 
 their condition then made worse by their falling into * 
 our hands ? No : they have only exchanged ona 
 slavery for another ; and I may say a better : for 
 here they are brought into a land where the sun oj 
 Islamism gives forth its light, and shines in full 
 splendour, and they have an opportunity of making 
 themselves acquainted with the true doctrine, and 
 theieby save their immortal souls. Those who re 
 main at home have not that happiness. Sending the 
 slaves home, then, would be sending them out of 
 light into darkness. 
 
 " I repeat the question, what is to be done with 
 them ? I have heard it suggested, that they may be 
 planted in the wilderness, where there is plenty of 
 land for them to subsist on, and where they may 
 flourish as a free state. But they are, I doubt, too 
 little disposed to labour without compulsion, as well 
 as too ignorant to establish good government ; and 
 the wild Arabs would soon molest and destroy, or 
 again enslave.,{hem. While serving us, we taKe care 
 to provide tfygm with every thing; and they are 
 treated with humanity. The labourers in their own 
 countries are, as I am informed, worse fed, lodged, 
 and clothed. The condition of most of them is 
 therefore already mended, and requires no further 
 improvement. Here their lives are in safety. They 
 are not liable to be impressed for soldiers, and forced 
 to cut one another s Christian throats, as in the wars 
 of their own countries. If some of the religious mad 
 bigots who now tease us with their silly petitions, have 
 in a fct of blind zeal, freed their slaves, it was not gene 
 rosity, it was not humanity, that moved them to th* 
 action ; ii was from the conscious burden of a load of 
 9 * 
 
204 ESSAYS. 
 
 sins, WK? hope, from the supposed rnep v .s of so good a 
 work, to be excused from damnation. How grossly 
 are they mistaken, in imagining slave/y to be disa 
 vowed by the Alcoran! Are not the iwo precepts, 
 to quote no more, * Masters, treat your slaves with 
 kindness Slaves> serve your masters with cheerful 
 ness and fidelity, clear proofs to the contrary? Nor 
 can the plundering of infidels be in that sacred book 
 Ibrbidden ; since it is well known from it, that God 
 /as given the world, and all that it contains, to his 
 faithful Musselmen, who are to enjoy it, of right, aa 
 fast as they conquer it. Let us then hear no more o! 
 Ihis detestable proposition, the manumission ol 
 Christian slaves, the adoption of which would, by 
 depreciating our lands and houses, and thereby de 
 priving so many good citizens of their properties, 
 create universal discontent, and provoke insurrec 
 tions, to the endangering of government, and produc 
 ing general confusion. I have, therefore, no doubt, 
 that this wise council will prefer the comfort and 
 happiness of a whole nation of true believers, to the 
 whim of a few Erika, and dismiss their petition." 
 
 The result was, as Martin tells us, that the Pivau 
 came to this resolution : " That the doctrine, that 
 the plundering and enslaving the Christians is unjust, 
 is at best problematical -.but that it is the interest 
 of this state to continue the practice, is clear: there* 
 fore, let the petition be rejected." And it was re 
 jected accordingly. 
 
 - And since like motives are apt to Produce, in th 
 minds of men, like opinions and resolutions, may we 
 not venture to predict, from this account, that the pe 
 titions to the parliament of England for abolishing 
 (lie slave trade, to say nothing of other legislatures, 
 and the debates upon them, will have a similar con 
 elusion. 
 
 HISTORfCUS. 
 March W, 1790. 
 
ESSAYS. 205 
 
 OBSERVATIONS ON WAR. 
 
 BY the original laws of nations, war and extirpa 
 tion were the punishment of injury. Humanizing by 
 degrees, it admitted slavery instead of death : a far 
 ther step was, the exchange of prisoners instead of 
 slavery : another, to respect more the property of pri 
 vate persons under conquest, and be content with ac 
 fjuired dominion. Why should not this law of na* 
 ions go on improving. Ages have intervened be*, 
 tween its several steps ; but as knowledge of late in 
 creases rapidly, why should not those steps be quick 
 ened*? Why should it not be agree a to, as the future 
 law of nations, that in any war hereafter, the follow 
 ing description of men should be undisturbed, have 
 the protection of both sides, and be permitted to fol 
 low their employments in security? viz. 
 
 *. Cultivators of the earth, because they labour for 
 the subsistence of mankind. 
 
 2. Fishermen, for the same reason. 
 
 3. Merchants and traders in unarmed ships, who 
 accommodate 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 enemies should be unmolested they ought to be 
 assisted. It is for the interest of humanity in gene 
 ral, that the occasions of war, and the inducements 
 to it, should be diminished. If rapine be abolished, 
 one of the encouragements to war is taken away ; and 
 aeace therefore more likely to continue and be last 
 ng. 
 
 The practice of robbing merchants on the high sea> 
 a remnant of the ancient piracy though it maybe 
 accidentally beneficial to particular persons, is fa*/ 
 from being profitable to all engaged in it, or to th* 
 nation that authorizes it. In the beginning of a war 
 Bomo rich ships are surprised and taken. This en 
 courages the first adventures to fit out more armed 
 vessels and many others to do the same. But the 
 
808 ESSAYS. 
 
 Page 174. " I hardly admit," 
 When this author speaks of impressing, pag*) JW, h 
 diminishes the horror of the practice as much as pos 
 sible, by presenting to the mind one sailor only suf 
 fering a " hardship" (as he tenderly calls it) in soma 
 "particular cases" only; and he places against thia 
 private mischief the inconvenience to the trade of the 
 kingdom. But if, as he supposes is often the case, 
 the sailor who is pressed and obliged to serve for tho 
 defence of trade, at tv-wty-five shilling a month 
 could get three pountf fifteen shillings in the mer 
 chants service, you ake from him fifty shillings a 
 month ; and if you Wve 100,000 in your service you 
 rob this honest in ustrious part of society and their 
 poor families of $50,0001. per month, or three mil 
 lions 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 profits by it : but this three millions is more 
 than their share, if they do not pay with their persons; 
 but when you force that, methinks you snould excuse 
 the other. 
 
 But, it r ay be said, to give the king s seamen mer 
 chants V ages would cost the nation too much, and 
 and call for more taxes. The question then will 
 amount it) this : whether it be just in a community, 
 that the richer part should compel the poorer to fight 
 in defence of them and their properties, for such 
 wages as they think fit to allow, and punish them if 
 they refuse? Our author tells us that it is " legal." 
 I have not law enough to dispute his authorities, but 
 I cannot persuade myself that it 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 intole 
 rable injustice as attends the impressing common sea 
 men. In order to be better understood I would pre- 
 mise two things : First, That voluntary seamen mav 
 b* had for the service, if they were sufficiently paid. 
 7 e proof is, that to serve in the same ship, and in- 
 cw the same dangers, you have no occasion to im 
 
ESSAYS. 209 
 
 press captains, lieutenants, second lieutenants, mid 
 shipmen, parsers, nor many other officers. Why, 
 but that the profits of their places, or the emolu 
 ments expected, are sufficient inducements? The 
 business then is, to find money, by impressing suffi 
 cient 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 
 he salt beef, pork, and peas-pudding, being found 
 sufficient for the subsistence of a hard-working sea 
 man, it will certainly be so for a sedentary scholar 01 
 gentleman. 1 would then propose to form a treasury, 
 out of which encouragements to seamen should be 
 paid. To CU this treasury, I would impress a num 
 ber of civil officers, who at present have great sala 
 ries, oblige them to serve in their respective offices 
 for twenty-five shillings a month with their share of 
 niess provisions, and throw the rest of their salaries 
 into the seamen s treasury. If such a press warrant 
 were given me to execute, the first 1 would press 
 should be a Recorder of Bristol, or a Mr. Justice 
 Foster, because I might have need of his edifying 
 example, to show how much impressing ought to be 
 borne with ; for he would certainly find, that though 
 to be reduced to twenty-five shilling a month might 
 be a " private mischief" yet that, agreeably to his 
 maxim of law and good policy, it " ought to be borne 
 with patience," for preventing a national calamity. 
 Then 1 would press the rest of the judges; and, 
 opening the red book, 1 would press every civil officer 
 of government from 501. a year salary up to 50,0001. 
 which would throw an immense sum into our treasu 
 ry : 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 * * * 
 
210 ESSAYS. 
 
 ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS AND THE PRAC 
 TICE OF PRIVATEERING. 
 
 Letter to Benjamin Faughan, Esq. 
 
 March, 14, 1785 
 
 . MY DEAK FRIEND, 
 
 AMONG the pamphlets you lately sent me was one, 
 entitled, Thoughts on Executive Justice. In return 
 for that, I send you a French one on the same 
 subject, Observations concernant V Execution de 
 V Article II. de la Declaration sur le Vol. They are 
 both addressed to the judges, but written, as you will 
 see, in a very different spirit. The English author is 
 for hanging all thieves. The Frenchman is for pro 
 portioning punishments to offences. 
 
 If we really believe, as we profess to believe, tha* 
 the law of Moses was the law of God, the dictate of 
 Divine wisdom, infinitely superior to human; on 
 what principle do we ordain death as the punish. 
 ment of an offence, which, according to that law, waj 
 only to be punished by a restitution of fourfold? To 
 ut a man to death for an offence which does nal 
 eserve death, is it not murder? And as the French 
 writer says, Doit-on punir un deht contre le societt 
 far un crime contre la nature ! 
 
 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, ami his coat of skins, were suffi 
 ciently secured, without law, by the fear of personal 
 resentment and retaliation. When, by virtue of the 
 first laws, part of the society accumulated wealth and 
 grew powerful, they enacted others moie severe, and 
 would protect their property at the expense of hu 
 manity. This was abusing their power, and com 
 mencing ft tyranny. If a savage, before he entered 
 into society, had been told " Your neighbour, by 
 this means, may become owner of a hundred deer; 
 but if your brother, or your son, or yourself, having 
 
 p 
 d 
 
ESSAYS. 211 
 
 no ifer of your own, and being hungry, should kill 
 oni^ an infamous death must be the consequence," 
 he would probably have preferred his liberty, and 
 his ccmmoa right of killing any deer, to all the ad 
 vantages of society that might be proposed to him. 
 
 Tiat it is better a hundred guilty persons should 
 escape, than that one innocent person should suffer, is a 
 maxim that has been long and generally approved; 
 never, that 1 know of, controverted. Even the 
 sanguinary author of the Thoughts agrees to it, ad 
 
 \ ding well, "that the very thought of injured in no 
 sence, and much more that of suffering innocence, 
 
 fr must awaken all our tenderest and most compas- 
 ionate feel ngs, and at the same time raise our high 
 ast indignation against the instruments of it. But," 
 he adds, " there is no danger of either, from a strict 
 ndherance to the laws." Really! is it then impos 
 sible to mako 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 high 
 est indignation !" I 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 proportion between the injury done by a 
 theft, value fourteen shillings and three pence, and 
 the punishment of a human creature, by death, on a 
 gibbet ? Might not that woman, by her labour, have 
 made the k eparation ordained by God in paying four 
 fold ? Is not all punishrretit inflicted beyond the merit 
 of the offence, so much punishment of innocence ? In 
 this light, how v*st is the annual quantity, of not 
 only injured but suffering innocence, in almost al 
 the civilized states of Europe, ! 
 
 Barbary, who whenever he bought a new Christian 
 riave, ordered him immediately to be hung up by tne 
 legs, and to receive a hundred blows of a cudgel on 
 the soles of his feel, that the severe sense of the pun 
 ishment, and fear of incurring it thereafter, might 
 
212 ESSAYS 
 
 prevent the faults that should merit it. Our author 
 himself would hardly approve entirety of this Turk s 
 conduct in the government of slaves ; and yet he ap 
 pears to recommend something like it for the govern 
 ment of English subjects, when he applauds the reply 
 of Judge Burnet to the convict horse-btealer; who, 
 being asked what he had to say why judgment ol 
 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 not. be stolen." The man s answer, if candidly 
 examined, will, I imagine, appear reasonable, as 
 being founded on the eternal principles of justice and 
 equity, that punishments should be proportioned to 
 offences ; and the judge s reply brutal and unreason 
 able, though the writer " wishes all judges to carry it 
 with them whenever they go the circuit, and to bear 
 it in their minds, as containing a wise reason for all 
 the penal statutes which they are called upon to put 
 in execution. It at once illustrates, 1 says .^e, " the 
 true grounds and reasons of all capital punishments 
 whatsoever, namely, that every man s property, as 
 well as his life, may be held sacred and inviolate." 
 Is there then no difference in value between property 
 and life ? If I think it right that the crime of murder 
 should be punished with death, not only as an equal 
 punishment of the crime, but to prevent other mur 
 ders, does it follow that I must approve of inflicting 
 the same punishment for a little invasion on my pro 
 perty 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 
 threepence, how can I approve of a law that does it . 
 Montesquieu, who was himself a judge, endeavours 
 to impress other maxims. He must have known 
 what humane judges feel on such occasions, and 
 what the effects of those feelings ; and, so far from 
 thinking that severe and exco^iive punishments pre 
 vent crimes, he asserts, as t> ( lofetd by cur French 
 witer, that 
 
ESSAYS. 213 
 
 I/atrocite des loix en empeche Texecution. 
 
 " Lorsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent 
 oblige de lui preferer Timpunite. 
 
 " La cause de tous les relachemens vfent de 1 im- 
 punite 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 England, than in all the other nation 
 put together. If this be so, there must be a cause o 
 causes for such a depravity in our common people. 
 May not one be the deficiency of justice and morali 
 ty in our national government, manifested in our 
 oppressive conduct to subjects, and unjust wars on 
 cur neighbours? View the long-persisted in, unjust, 
 monopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length acknow 
 ledged ! View the plundering government exercised 
 by our merchants in the Indies; the confiscating 
 war made upon the American colonies ; and, to say 
 nothing of those upon France and Spain, view thi 
 late war upon Holland, which was seen by impar 
 tial 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 ita 
 true and real motive and encouragement. Justice is 
 ts strictly due between neighbour nations, as between 
 neighbour 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 em 
 ploy by peace, they still continue robbing, and rob 
 one another ? Piraterie, as the French call it, or pri 
 vateering, is the universal bent of the English nation 
 at home and abroad, wherever settled. No less than 
 seren {hundred privateers were, it is said, commis 
 sioned in the last war ! These were fitted out by mer 
 chants, to piey upon other merchants, who had 
 never done them any injury. Is there probably any 
 of f ^lose privateering merchants of London, who wero 
 IT ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that 
 f *ld not as readily plunder another London mei- 
 
212 ESSAYS 
 
 prevent the faults that should merit it. Our author 
 himself would hardly approve entirety of this Turk s 
 conduct in the government of slaves ; and yet he ap 
 pears to recommend something like it for the govern 
 ment of English subjects, when he applauds the reply 
 of Judge Burnet to the convict horse-btealer ; who, 
 being asked what he had to say why judgment ol 
 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 not. be stolen." The man s answer, if candidly 
 examined, will, I imagine, appear reasonable, as 
 being founded on the eternal principles of justice and 
 equity, that punishments should be proportioned to 
 offences; and the judge s reply brutal and unreason 
 able, though the writer " wishes all judges to carry it 
 with them whenever they go the circuit, and to bear 
 it in their minds, as containing a wise reason for all 
 the penal statutes which they are called upon to put 
 in execution. It at once illustrates, says .^e, "the 
 true grounds and reasons of all capital punishments 
 whatsoever, namely, that every man s property, as 
 well as his life, may be held sacred and inviolate." 
 Is there then no difference in value between property 
 and life ? If I think it right that the crime of murder 
 should be punished with death, not only as an equal 
 punishment of the crime, but to prevent other mur 
 ders, does it follow that I must approve of inflicting 
 the same punishment for a little invasion on my pro 
 perty 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 
 threepence, how can I approve of a law that does it . 
 Montesquieu, who was himself a judge, endeavours 
 to impress other maxims. He must have known 
 what humane judges feel on such occasions, and 
 what the effects of those feelings ; and, so far from 
 thinking that severe and excefmve punishments pre 
 vent crimes, he asserts, as <Motoa by cur French 
 wnter, that 
 
ESSAYS. 213 
 
 L atrocite des loix en empeche 1 execution. 
 
 " Lorsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent 
 oblige de lui preferer 1 impunite. 
 
 " La cause de tous les relachemens v&nt de I im- 
 punite 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 England, than in all the other nation 
 put together. If this be so, there must be a cause o 
 causes for such a depravity in our common people. 
 May not one be the deficiency of justice and morali 
 ty in our national government, manifested in our 
 oppressive conduct to subjects, and unjust wars on 
 cur neighbours? View the long-persisted in, unjust, 
 monopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length acknow 
 ledged ! View the plundering government exercised 
 by oar merchants in the Indies; the confiscating 
 war made upon the American colonies ; and, to say 
 nothing of those upon France and Spain, view thi 
 late war upon Holland, which was seen by impar 
 tial 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 neighbour nations, as between 
 neighbour 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 
 King. After employing your people in robbing the 
 Dutch, is it strange, that, being put out of that em 
 ploy by peace, they still continue robbing, and rob 
 one another ? Piraterie^ as the French call it, or pri- 
 rateering, is the universal bent of the English nation 
 At home and abroad, wherever settled. No less than 
 seren {hundred privateers were, it is said, commis 
 sioned in the last war ! These were fitted out by mer 
 chants, to piey upon other merchants, who had 
 never dono them any injury. Is there probably any 
 of ^oae prfvateering merchants of London, who wero 
 IT icady to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that 
 f lid not as readily plunder another London met 
 
214 ESSAYS. 
 
 chant, of the next street, if he could do it with the 
 same impunity? The avidity, the alieni appetens is 
 the same ; it is the fear alone of the gallows that 
 makes the difference. How then can a nation, which 
 among the honestest of its people, has so many 
 thieves by inclination, and whose government en 
 couraged "and commissioned no less than seven hun 
 dred gangs of robbers ; how can such a nation have 
 the face to condemn the crime in individuals, and 
 Jbang up twenty of them in a morning ! It natural^ 
 puts one in mind of a Newgate anecdote. One of th | 
 prisoners complained, that in the night somebody 
 nad taken his buckles out of his shoes. " What the 
 devil !" 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 
 merchant 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 make 
 them, as far as in him lies, restitution. This con 
 scientious man is a quaker. The Scotch presby- 
 terians were formerly as tender; for there is still 
 extant an ordinance of the town-council of Edin 
 burgh, made soon after the Reformation, " forbidding 
 the purchase of prize goods, under pain of losing the 
 freedom of the burgh for ever, with other punish 
 ments at the will of the magistrate ; the practice of 
 making prizes being contrary to good conscience, and 
 he rule of treating Christian brethren as we woul 1 
 le treated ; and such goods are not to be sold Ity 
 mny godly man within this burgh." The race o? 
 these godly men in Scotland are probably extinct, 01 
 their principles abandoned, since, as far as that na- 
 t on had a ha^d in promoting the war against the 
 colonies, prizes and confiscations are believed to have 
 l/*en a considerable motive. 
 
 It has been fur some time a generally-received 
 pp uijdii, trial a nmnary rnau is> not to inquire wneiiiuf 
 
ESSAYS. 215 
 
 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 wil 
 ling to establish it ; but is it not a dangerous one ? 
 since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands his 
 army to attack and destroy not only an unoffending 
 neighbour nation, but even his own subjects, the ar 
 my is bound to obey. A negro slave, in our colonies, 
 being commanded by his master to rob or murder a 
 neighbour or do any other immoral act may refuse j 
 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 another 
 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 neighbouring na 
 tion, to plunder them of their property, and perhaps^ 
 ruin them and their families, if they yield it ; or to 
 wound, maim, -and murder them, if they endeavour 
 to defend it. Yet these things are done by Christian 
 merchants, whether a war be just or unjust; and it 
 can hardly be just on both sides. They are done by 4 
 English and American merchants, who, nevertheless 
 complain of private theft, and hang by dozens tho 
 thieves they have taught by their own example. 
 
 It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a 
 tap were put to this enormity. The United States 
 of America, though belter situated than any Euro- 
 lopean nation to make profit by privateeiing (most 
 ftflhe trade with Europe with the West Indies, pass 
 ing before their doors) are, as far as in them lies, en 
 deavouring to abolish the practice, by offering in all 
 Uivir tieaties with other powers, an article, engag- 
 
218 ESSAYS. 
 
 ing solemnly, that, in case of future war, no privateet 
 shall be commissioned on either side ; and that un 
 armed merchant-ships, on both sides, shall pursue 
 their voyages unmolested.* This will be a happy 
 improvement of the law of nations. The humane 
 and the just cannot but wish general success to the 
 proposition. 
 
 With unchangeable esteem and affection, 
 
 1 am, my dear friend, " , 
 
 Ever your s 
 
 * This offer having been accepted by the ate King of Prussia, 
 treaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that monarch 
 and the United States, containing the following humane and philan 
 thropic article , in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one of the 
 American plenipotentiaries, was principally concerned* viz. 
 
 ART. XXriI. If war should arise between the two contracting 
 parties, the merchants of either country, then residing in th other, 
 hall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and set 
 tle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying off all their effect* 
 without molestation or hindrance ; and all women and children, 
 scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, artizans, manufac 
 turers, and fisherman unarmed, and inhabiting unfortified towns, vil 
 lages, and places, and, in general, all others whose occupations ar 
 for the common subsistence and benefit of mankind, shall be allowed 
 to continue their respective employments, and shall not be molested 
 in their persons, nor ehail their houses cr goods be burnt, or other 
 wise destroyed, nor their fields wasted by the armed force of the ene 
 my into whose power, by the events of war, they may happen to fall j 
 but if any thing is necessary to be taken from them or the use of such 
 rmed force, the same shall be paid for at a reasonable price. And 
 11 merchant and trading vessels employed in exchanging the product! 
 of different place* , and thereby rendering the necessaries, convenien 
 ces, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained, and more 
 general, shall be allowed to paw free and unmolested : and neither ef 
 the contracting powers shall grant or issue any commission to any 
 private armed vessels, empowering them to take or destroy Mtoh 
 x&diog vessels, or interrupt such commerce. 
 
ESSAYS. 217 
 
 i. .-;:->**- 
 
 REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES 
 OF NORTH AMERICA. 
 
 SAVAGES we call them because their manners differ 
 from ours, which we think the perfection .of civility ; 
 hey think the same of theirs. 
 
 Perhaps if we could examine the manners cl 
 different nations with impartiality, we should find 
 no people so rude as to be without any rules of po 
 Jiteness ; no r any so polite as not to have some re- 
 uains of rudeness. 
 
 The Indian men when young, are hunters and 
 varriors ; when old, counsellors ; for al! their go- 
 rernment is by the council and advice of the sages ; 
 there is no force, there are no prisons, no officers, to 
 compel obedience, or inflict punishment. Hence 
 they generally study oratpry ; the best speaker hav 
 ing 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 ana ."women are accounted natural and ho 
 nourable. Having few artificial wants, they^ have 
 abundance of leisure for improvement in conversa 
 tion. Our laborious manner of life, compared with 
 theirs, they esteem slavish and base ; and the learn 
 ing on which we value ourselves, they regard as fri 
 volous and useless. An instance of this occurred at 
 the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, anno 1744, 
 between the government of Virginia and the Six Na- 
 ions. After the principal business was settled, the 
 commissioners from Virginia acquainted the Indiam 
 by a speech, that there was at Williamtburgh a col 
 lege, with a fund, for educating Indian youth ; and if 
 the chiefs of the Six Nations would send down half a 
 dozen of their sons to that college, the government 
 would take care they should be well provided for, 
 and instructed in ail the learning of the whites people. 
 It is one of the Indian rules of politeness not to an 
 swer a public proposition the same day that it is 
 
21d ESSAVS. 
 
 made : they think it would be treating it as a light 
 matter, and that they show it respect by taking tima 
 to consider it, as of a matter important. They there* 
 fore deferred their answer till the day following: when 
 their speaker began by expressing their deep sense ot 
 the kindness of the Virginia government, in making 
 them that offer ; " for we know," says he, " that yofc 
 highly esteem the kind of learning taught in thosO 
 colleges/and that the maintenance of our young men 
 while with you would be very expensive to you. W 
 are convinced, therefore, that you mean to do ui 
 good by your proposal ; and we thank you heartily 
 But you who are wise must know, that different na 
 tions have different conceptions of things ; and you 
 will therefore not take it amiss, if our ideas of this 
 kind of education happen not to be the same with 
 3 ours. 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 in- 
 ptructed in all your sciences ; but when they came 
 b^ck to us, they were bad runners ; ignorant of every 
 means of (living in the woods; unable to bear eithei 
 cold or hunger; knew neither how to build a cabin, 
 take a deer, or kill an enemy ; spoke our language 
 imperfectly; were therefore neither fit for hunters, 
 warriors, or counsellors : they were totally good foj 
 nothing. We are however not the less obliged by 
 your kind oflfer, 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 
 Ihey have acquired great order and decency in con 
 hicting them. The old men sit in the foremost 
 tanks, the v/arriors in the next, and the women am? 
 children in the hindmost. The business of the wo 
 men is to take notice of what passes, imprint it in 
 their memories, for they have no writing, and ccm- 
 munioate it to the children. They are the records of 
 the council, and they preserve traditions of the sti 
 pulations in treaties a hundred years back ; which, 
 when we compare with our writing, we always find 
 
HAYS. S19 
 
 exact. He that would speak, rises. The rest ob 
 serve 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 common con 
 versation, is reckoned highly indecent. How different 
 this is from the conduct of a polite British House of 
 Commons, where scarce a day passes without some con 
 fision, that makes the speaker .oarse in calling tc 
 erder; and how different from the mode of conver 
 sation, in many polite companies of Europe, where 
 if you do not deliver your sentences with great rapi 
 dity, you are cut off in the middle of it by the impa 
 tient loquacity of those you converse with, and never 
 luffered to finish it ! 
 
 The politeness of these savages in conversation is 
 Indeed carried to excess ; since it does not permit 
 them to contradict or deny the truth of what is as- 
 ferted in their presence. By this means they, in 
 deed, avoid disputes ; but then it becomes difficult to 
 know their minds, or what impression you make 
 upon them. The missionaries, who have attempted 
 to convert them to Christianity, all complain of thie 
 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 tr\ens 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 Susqueliannah Indians, made a sermon to 
 them, acquainting them with the principal historical 
 facts on which our religion is founded : such as the 
 fell of our first parents by eating an apple ; the com- 
 4ig of Christ to repair the mischief; his miracles and 
 Bufferings, &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 to your kindness in coming so 
 tar to tell us those things which you have heard frcir. 
 10 
 
220 ESS At S. 
 
 your mothers. In return, 1 will tell you some ol 
 those which we have heard from ours. 
 
 " In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh 
 of animals to subsist on ; and if their hunting was 
 unsuccessful, they were starving. Two of our young 
 hunters having killed a deer, made a fire in the wood 3 
 to broil some parts of it. When they were about to 
 satisfy their hunger, they beheld a beautiful young 
 woman descend from the clouds, and seat herself on 
 that hill which you see yonder among the blue moun 
 tains. They said to each other, it is a spirit that 
 perhaps has smelt our broiled venison, and wishes to 
 at of it ; let us offer some to her. They presented 
 her with the tongue : she was pleased with the taste 
 of it, and said, * Your kindness shall be rewarded. 
 Come to this place after thirteen moons, and you 
 shall find something that will be of great benefit in 
 nourishing you and your children to the latest gene 
 rations. They did so, and to their surprise, found 
 plants they had never seen before ; but which, from 
 that ancient time, have been constantly cultivated 
 among us, to our great advantage. Where her right 
 hand had touched the ground, they found maize ; 
 where her left hand touched it, they found kidney- 
 beans; and where her backside had sat on it, they 
 found tobacco." The good missionary, disgusted 
 with thi idle tale, said, " What I delivered to you 
 were sacred truths ; but what you tell me is mere 
 fable, fiction and falsehood." The Indian offended, 
 jt replied, " My brother, it seems your friends have not 
 1 done you justice in your education ; they havej not 
 well instructed you in the rules of common civility. 
 You saw that we, who understand and practise those 
 mles, believed all your stories, why do you refuse to 
 Relieve ours ?" 
 
 When any of them come into our towns, our peo 
 ple are apt to crowd round them, gaze upon them, 
 and incommode them where they desire to be private i 
 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 curi 
 osity as you, and when you come into cur towns, we 
 whh for opportunities of looking at you , but for this 
 
ESSAYS. 221 
 
 ing one another s villages 
 has likewise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in tra 
 velling strangers to enter a village abruptly, with 
 out giving notice of their approach. 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 tlia 
 strangers house. Here they are placed, while tl. 
 old men go round from hut to hut, acquainting tlto 
 inhabitants that strangers are arrived, who are pro 
 bably 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, con 
 versation begins, with inquiries who they are, whither 
 bound, what news, &c. and it usually ends with o 
 fers of service, if the strangers have occasion for 
 guides, or any necessaries for continuing their jour 
 ney ; and nothing is exacted for the entertainment. 
 
 The same hospitality, esteemt-d among them as a 
 principal 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 wen the Mohuck lan 
 guage. In going through the Indian country, to car- 
 Sa message from our governor to the council ai 
 londaga, he called at the habitation of Canasse- 
 tego, an old acquaintance, who embraced him, spread 
 furs for him to sit on, placed before him some boiled 
 beans and venison, and mixed some rum and watei 
 for his drink. When he was well refreshed, and had 
 lit his pipe, Canassetego began to converse with hime 
 asked him how he nad fared the many years since 
 they had seen each other, whence he then came, what 
 occasioned the journey, &c. Conrad answered ail 
 his questions ; and when the discourse began to flag, 
 the Indian, to continue it, said, " Conrad, you hava 
 lived long among the white people, and know some 
 thing of their customs; I have been sometimes al 
 Albany, and have observed, that once in seven dayi 
 
222 ESSAYS. 
 
 they shut up their shops, and assemble all in the 
 great house; tell me what it is for? What do they 
 do there ? " "* They meet there," says Conrad, " to 
 hear and learn good things?" " I do not doubt," says 
 the Indian, " that they tell you so, they have told 
 me the same : but I doubt the truth of what they 
 say, and I will tell you my reasons. I went lately to 
 Albany, to sell my skins and buy blankets, knives, 
 powder, rum, &c. You know 1 used generally to 
 deal with Hans Hanson ; but I was a little inclined 
 .his time to try some other merchants. However, V 
 called first upon Hans, and askeu him what he would 
 give for beaver. He said he could not give more than 
 four shillings a pound : but, says he, I cannot talk 
 on business now ; this is the day when we meet to* 
 gether to learn good things, and I am going to meet 
 ing. So I thought to myself, since I cannot do any 
 business to-da} , I may as well go to the meeting top., 
 and I went with him. There stood up a man in 
 black, and began to talk to the people very angrily. 
 I did not understand what he said : but, perceiving 
 that he looked much at me, and at Hanson, I imagin 
 ed he was angry at seeing me there ; so I went out, 
 Bat down ueai the house, struck fire and lit my pipe, 
 waiting till the meeting should break up. I though! 
 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. * JNo, says 
 he, * 1 canont give so much ; I cannot give more than 
 three shillings and sixpence. 1 then spoke to seve 
 ral other dealers, but they all sung the same song, 
 three and six pence, three and six pence. Thit 
 made it clear to me that my suspicion was right; and 
 that, whatever they pretended of meeting to learn 
 good things, the real purpose was to consult Ijow to 
 f-heat Indians in the price of beaver. Consider but a 
 
 ^ttle, Conrad, and you must be of my opinion. If 
 they meet so often to learn good things they would 
 certainly have learned some before this time. But 
 they are still ignorant. You know our practice. If 
 
 a white man, in travelling through our country, eu 
 
ESSATS. 223 
 
 ters 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 hrs 
 thirst and hunger ; and we spread soft furs for him 
 to rest and sleep on : we demand nothing in return.* 
 But if I go into a white man s house at Albany, and 
 ask for victuals and drink, they say, Where is your 
 money ? and if I have none, they say, Get out, you 
 Indian dog. You see that they have not learned thos 
 little good things that we need no meetings to be in 
 structed in, because our mothers taught them u 
 when we were children ; and therefore it is impos 
 sible their meetings should be, as they say, for "any 
 such purpose, or have any such effect ; they are only 
 to contrive the cheating of Indians in the price of 
 beaver." 
 
 * It U remarkabla that, in all ages and countries, hospitality hat 
 Man allowed u the virtue of those, wham the civilized were ple*seu 
 to call barbarians ; the Greeks celebrated the Sc/thians for it; tn 
 Baraoens possessed it eminently ; and it h to this day the reigning 
 virtu* of the wild Arabs. St. Paul, too, in the relation of his 
 Voyage and ship wreck, on the iiland of Melita, says, " The bar- 
 barous people showed us no iittle kinduesi ; for they kindled a fire, 
 and received us every one, because of the present rain, and becaus* 
 of the cold." This note is taken Vom a small collection of Fumsv- 
 tta s papers, printed for Dilly 
 
04 ESSATS. 
 
 TO MR. DUBOURG. 
 
 CONCERNING THE DISSENTIONS BETWEEN i\<.f.A>D 
 AND AMERICA. 
 
 London, October 2, 1770. 
 
 I SEE, with pleasure, that we think pretty much 
 alike on the subjects of English A merica. We of th% 
 colonies have never insisted that we ought to be ex 
 empt from contributing to the common expenses ne 
 cessaiy to support the prosperity of the empire. Wi 
 only assert, that having parliaments of our own, and 
 not having representatives in that cf Great Britain, oui 
 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 mo 
 ney without our consent. In fact, the British ernpiro 
 is *not a single staie ; it comprehends many ; and 
 though the parliament of Great Britain has arrogated 
 to itself the power of taxing the colonies, it has no 
 more right to do so, then it has to tax Hanover. We 
 have the same king, but not the same legislatures. 
 
 The dispute between the "wo countries has already 
 lost England many millions sterling, which it has lost 
 in its commerce," and America has in this respect 
 t>een a proportionable galier. This commerce con 
 sisted principally of superfluities; objects of luxury 
 and fashion, which we can well do without ; and the 
 resolution we have formed of importing no more till 
 our grievances are redressed, has enabled many of 
 our infant manufacturers to take root ; and it will 
 not be easy to make our people abandon them in fu 
 ture, even should a connexion more cordial than 
 ever succeed the pissent troubles. I have, indeed, 
 no doubt, that the parliament of England will finally 
 abandon its present pretensions, ana leave us to the 
 peaceable enjoyment of our rights and privileges. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
ESSAYS 225 
 
 A Comparison of the Conduct of the Ancient 
 
 and of the Antifederalists in the United States of 
 America. 
 
 A ZEALOUS advocate for the proposed Federal Co^- 
 clitution in a certain public assembly said, that " tha 
 repugnance of great part of mankind to good govern 
 mem was such, that he believed that if an- angel front 
 heaven was to bring down a constitution formed 
 there for our use, it would nevertheless meet with 
 violent opposition." He was reproved for the sup 
 posed extravagance of the sentiment ; and he did not 
 justify it. Probably it might not have immediately 
 occurred to him, that the experiment had been 
 tried, and that the event was recorded in the most 
 faithful of all histories, the 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 
 tip a single family, by continued acts of his- attentive 
 providence, until it became a great people : and hav 
 ing rescued them from bondage by many miracles 
 performed by his servant Moses, he personally de 
 livered to that chosen servant, in presence of the 
 whole nation, a constitution and code of laws for 
 their observance ; accompanied and sanctioned with 
 promises of great rewards, and threats of severe 
 punishments, as the consequence of their obedience 
 or disobedience. 
 
 This constitution, though the Deity himself was to 
 be at its head (and it is therefore called by political 
 writers a theocracy) could not be carried into execu- 
 ion but by means of his ministers: Aaron and h 
 tons were commissioned to be, with Moses, the first 
 established ministry of the new government. 
 
 One would" have thought, that the appointment of 
 men, who had distinguished themselves in procuring 
 the liberty of their nation, and had hazarded their 
 lives in openlv opposing the will of a powerful mo 
 narch who would have retained that nation in sla 
 very, migLt have been an appointment acceptable to 
 
226 ESSAYS. 
 
 a grateful people , and that a constitution framed for 
 them by the Deity himself, might on lhat account 
 have been secure of an universal welcome reception. 
 Yet there were, in every one of the thirteen triheg, 
 some discontented, restless spirits, who were continu 
 ally exciting them to reject the proposed new govern 
 ment, and this from various motives. 
 
 Many still retained an affection for Egypt, the land 
 of their nativity ; and these, whenever they felt any 
 nconvenience or hardship, though the natural and 
 unavoidable effect of their change of situation, ex 
 claimed 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 con 
 stitution might be injurious to their particular inter 
 ests, that the profitable places would be engrossed by 
 the families and friends of Jffoses and Aaron, and 
 others equally well born excluded.f In Josephus, 
 and the Talmud, we learn some particulars, not so 
 fully narrated in the Scripture. We are there told, 
 " that Korah was ambitious of tha priesthood ; and 
 offended that it was conferred on Aaron ; and this, 
 as he said, by the authority of Moses only, without 
 the consent of the people. He accused Moses of hav 
 ing* by various artificers, fraudulently obtained the 
 government, and deprived the people of their liber 
 ties; and of conspiring with Aaron to perpetuate the 
 tyranny in their family. Thus, though Koran s real 
 motive was the supplanting of Aaron t 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- 
 We tribes ; we have freed ourselves from the slavery 
 
 * Numbers, chap. xir. 
 
 f Numbers, chap. xri. ver. 3. " And they fathered themselves) 
 coge htr against Moses and against Aaron, and said unto them. Ye 
 take too rauoh upon you, teeing all the congregation are holy, 
 every one of them, wherefore then lift ye up yourseires fcbuvt 
 the congregation 1" 
 
ESSAYS, 227 
 
 imposed upon us by the Egyptians, and shall we 
 suffer ourselves to be made slaves by Moses? If we 
 must have a master, it were better to return to Pha 
 raoh, who at least fed us with bread and onions, than 
 lo serve this new tyrant, who by his operations has 
 brought us into danger of famine. Then they called 
 in question the reality of his conferences with God ; 
 and objected to the privacy of the meeting, and the 
 preventing any of the people from being present at 
 the colloquies, or even approaching the place, as 
 grounds of great suspicion. They accused Moses al- 
 so of peculation ; as embezzling part of the golden 
 spoons and the si ver chargers, that the princes had 
 offered al the dedication of the altar,* and the offer 
 ings of gold by the common people,f as well as most 
 of the poll-tax ;{. and Aaron they accused of pocket 
 ing mucli of the gold of which he pretended to have 
 made a molten calf. Besides peculation, they charg 
 ed Moses with ambition ; to gratify which passion, 
 he had, they sajd, deceived the people, by promising 
 to bring them to a land flowing with milk and honey : 
 instead of doing wnich, he had brought them from 
 such a land ; and that he thought light of all this 
 mischief, provided he could make himself an abso 
 lute prmce.JI That to support the new digir.ty with 
 splendour in his family, the partial poll-tax already 
 levied and given to AaronTf was to be followed by a ge 
 neral one,** which would probably be augmented from 
 ume to time, if he were suffered to go on promulgat 
 ing new laws on pretence of new occasional revela- 
 4ons of the Divine will, till their whole fortunes were 
 ievoured by that aristocracy." 
 
 * Numbers, cbap. vii. 
 
 f Exodus chap. XXXY. ver. 22. 
 
 | Numbers, chap. iii. and Exodus, chap. *. 
 
 |! Number*, chap. xri. yer. 13. " Is U a small thing that tho 
 hut brought ui up out of a land flowing with milk and honey, to kill 
 M in this viliUiatM, except that thou mike th/self altogether 
 prince ovr us !" 
 
 M Numbers, chap. iii. ** E*odus, chp. *i*. 
 
529 ESSAYS. 
 
 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. " J have not," said he (with holy confidence 
 in the presence of God,) " 1 have not taken from this 
 people the value of an ass, nor done them any other 
 injury." But his enemies had made the charge, and 
 with some success among the populace ; for no kind 
 of accusation is so readily made, or easily believed, 
 by knaves, as the accusation of knavery. 
 
 In fine, no less than two hundred and fifty of the 
 principal men, " famous in the congregation, men of 
 renown, "f heading and exciting the mob, worked 
 them up to such a pitch of frenzy, that they called 
 out, Stone *em, stone em, and thereby sepure our 
 liberties; and let us chose other captains, that they 
 may lead us back into PJgypt, in case we do not suc 
 ceed in reducing the Canaanites. 
 
 On the whole, it appears that the Israelites were a 
 people jealous of their new-acquired liberty, which 
 jealousy was in itself no fault : but tlfat, when they 
 suffered it to be worked upon by artful men, pretend 
 ing public good, with nothing really in view but 
 jmntie interest, they were led to oppose the establish 
 rnent 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 be 
 come old and much abused, and an amendment of 
 k 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 becoming 
 king" of the Jews, and cried, Crucify him, crucify 
 Iiim. From all which we may gather, that populai 
 opposition to a public measure is no proof of its im 
 propriety, even though the opposition be excited and 
 headed by men of distinction. 
 
 Wumheri, chap. 
 
ESSAYS. 229 
 
 To conclude, 1 beg I may not be understood to infer, 
 (hat our general covention was divinely inspired 
 when it formed the new federal constitution, merely 
 fcecause that constitution lias been unreasonably and 
 vehemently opposed ; yet I must own, I have go much 
 faith in the general government of the world by Pro 
 vidence, tha* I can hardly conceive a transaction of 
 such momentous importance to the welfare of mil 
 lions now existing, and to exist in the posterity of a 
 great nation, should be suffered to pass without being 
 n some degree influenced, guided, and governed by 
 that omnipotent, omnipresent, and beneScent Ruler, 
 in whom all inferior spirits live, and move, and have 
 their being. 
 
 NAUTICAL AFFAIRS. 
 
 THOUGH Britain bestows more attention to trade 
 then 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 
 ttpon the \vnole disputed. 
 
 Nor is Britain entirely inattentive to naval archi- 
 ecture ; though it is no where scientifically taught, 
 and those who devise improvements have seldom an 
 opportunity of bringing them into practice. What 3 
 pity it is, that no contrivance should be adopted, fof 
 concentrating the knowledge that different individu 
 als attain in this art, into one common focus, if lha 
 expression may be admitted. Our endeavours shall 
 not be wanting, to collect together, in the best way 
 we can, the scattered hints that shall occur under thig 
 head, not doubting but die public will receive with 
 
230 ESSAYS. 
 
 favour this humble attempt to waken the attention to 
 a subject of such 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 melio 
 rate the condition of seafaring people, occur in hia 
 work. In France, the art of constructing ships haa 
 long been a favourite study, and many improvements 
 in that branch have originated with them. Among 
 the last of the Frenchmen, who have made any con 
 siderable 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, 
 nnd that yet was capable of being navigated at sea 
 with great ease. This he effected in a great measure 
 by the particular mode of rigging, which gave the 
 mariners much greater power over the vessel than 
 they could have when of the usual construction. 
 
 I do not hear that this improvement has in any 
 case been adopted in Britain. But the advantages 
 that would result from having a vessel of small 
 draught of water to sail with the same steadiness, 
 and to lie equally near the wind, as one may do that 
 is sharper built, are so obvious, that many persons 
 have been desirous of falling upon some way to ef 
 fect it. About London, this has been attempted by 
 meansjof lee boards (a contrivance now so generally 
 known as not to require to be here particularly des 
 cribed) and not without effect. But these are sub 
 ject to certain inconveniences, that render the use ol 
 them in many cases ineligible. 
 
 Others have attempted to effect the purpose by 
 building vessels with more than one keel ; and thii 
 contrivance, when adopted upon proper principles, 
 promises to be attended with the happiest effects. 
 But hitherto that seems to have been scarcely advert 
 ed to. Time will be necessary to eradicate common 
 notions of very old standing, before this can be ef- 
 factually done. 
 
 Mr. W. Brodie, snip-master in Leith, has lately 
 adopted a contrivance for this purpose, that seems to 
 
ESSAYS. 231 
 
 6e at the same time very simple and extremely effi 
 cacious. 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 scarce 
 ly to admit of carrying a bit of sail on any occasion, 
 and which was at the same time so heavy to be row 
 ed, that he found great difficulty in using it for his 
 ordinary occasions. In reflecting on the means tha* 
 might be adopted for giving this useless cable such * 
 hold of the water as to admit of his employing a sai 
 when he found it necessary, it readily occurred tha 
 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 ol 
 behl let down or taken up at pleasure. This idea 
 he immediately carried into effect, by fixing a bar of 
 irori of the depth he wanted, along each side of the 
 keel, moving upon hinges that admitted 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 moveabie keels 
 could be easily lifted up at pleasure ; so that when 
 he was entering into a harbour, 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 wunted 
 them entirely ; and when he went out to sea, where 
 there was depth enough, by letting them down, the 
 lee keel took a firm hold of the water, (while the othei 
 floated loose) and gave such a steadiness to all its 
 movements, as can scarcely be conceived by those 
 who have not experienced it. 
 
 This gentleman one day carried me out with him 
 in his boat to try it. We made two experiments. At 
 first, with a moderate breeze, when the moveable 
 keels were kept up, the boat when laid as near the 
 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 de 
 grees; being nearly parallel with the course. 
 
232 ESSAYS. 
 
 At another time, the wind was right a-head, a biisk 
 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 windward, we found that 
 the sloop was left behind two feet in three ; though it 
 is certain, that if our false keels had not been let 
 down, we could scarcely, in that situation, have ad 
 vanced one foot for her three. 
 
 Itis unnecessary to point out to seafaring men the be 
 nefits that may be derived from this contrivance in 
 certain circumstances, as these will be very obvious 
 to them. 
 
 NORTH-WEST PASSAGE. 
 
 Notwithstanding the many fruitless attempts that 
 have been made to discover a north-west passage 
 into the South Seas, it would seern that this import 
 ant geographical question is not yet fully decided ; 
 for at a meeting of the Academy of Sciences, at Paris, 
 held on the 13th of November last, M. Bauche, first 
 geographer to the king, read a curious memoir con 
 cerning the north-west passage. M. de Mendoza, 
 an intelligent captain of a vessel in the service of 
 Spain, charged with the care of former establishments 
 favourable to the marine, has made a careful exami 
 nation of the archives of several departments : there 
 he has found the relation of a voyage made in the 
 year 1.598 by Lorenzo Herrero de Maldonada. There 
 it appears, that at the entry into David 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 on the 
 north. Arrived at lat. 65 and 297, he went towarda 
 the north by the Straits of Labrador, till he reached 
 76 and 273 ; and finding himself in the Icy Sea, ha 
 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, an 
 
ESSAYS. 233 
 
 rcrdingto M. Bauche, between William s Sound ana 
 Mount St. Elias. The Russians and Captain Cook 
 have not observed it, because it is very narro\v. But 
 it is to be wished, that this important discovery 
 should be verified, which has been overlooked for 
 two centuries, in spite of the attempts which have 
 been made on these coasts. M. Bauche calls this 
 passage the Straits of Ferrer. 
 
 POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED. 
 
 1. ALL food, or subsistence from mankind, arises 
 from the earth or waters. 
 
 2. Necessaries of life that are not foods, and all 
 other conveniences, have their value estimated by 
 the proportion of food consumed while we are em 
 ployed in procuring them. 
 
 3. A small people with a large territory, may sub 
 sist on the productions of nature, with no other la 
 bour than that of gathering the vegetables and catch 
 ing the animals. 
 
 4. A large people with a small territory, find these 
 insufficient; and, to subsist, must labour the earth, 
 to make it produce greater quantities of vegetable 
 food, suitable to the nourishment of men, and of the 
 inimals they intend to eat. 
 
 5. From this labour arises a great increase of ve 
 getable and animal food, and of materials for clothing; 
 as flax, wool, silks, &c. The superfluity of these H 
 wealth. With this wealth we pay for the labour em 
 ployed in building our houses, cities, &c. which a/a 
 therefore only subsistence thus metamorphosed. 
 
 6. Manufactures are only another shape into 
 which so much provisisons and subsistence are turn 
 ed, as were in value equal to the manufacture pro 
 duced. This appears from hence, that the manufac 
 turer does not, in fact, obtain from the employer. 
 for Uis labour, more than a me> subsistence, incline 
 
234 ESSAYS. 
 
 ing raiment, fuel, and shelter ; all which derive then 
 value from the provisions consumed in procuring 
 Ihem. 
 
 7. The produce of the earth, thus converted into 
 manufactures, may be more easily carried into distant 
 markets, than before such conversion. 
 
 3. Fair commerce is where equal values are ex 
 changed^for equal, tike expense of transport included. 
 Thus, if it costs A in England, as much labour and 
 charge to raise a bushel of wheat, as it costs B in 
 France to produce four gallons of wine, then are fou 
 gallons of wine the fair exchange for a bushel of 
 wheat, A and B meeting at half distance with their 
 commodities to make the exchange. The advantage 
 of this fair commerce is, that each party increases the 
 number of his enjoyments, having, instead of wheat 
 a ione, or wine alone, the use of both wheat and 
 wine. 
 
 9. Where the labour and expense of producing 
 both commodities are known to both parties, bargains 
 will generally be fair and equal. Where they are 
 known to one party only, bargains will often be un 
 equal, 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 manufactures, by subsisting therewith 
 the workmen while producing those manufactures, 
 since there are many expediting and facilitating 
 methods of working, not generally known, and 
 
 . strangers to the manufactures, though they know 
 pretty well the expense of raising wheat, are unac 
 quainted with those short methods of working; and 
 hence, being apt to suppose more labour ernployej 
 n the manufacture than there really is, are nfore 
 easily imposed on in their value, and induced to 
 allow more for them than they are honestly worth. 
 
 11. Thus the advantage of having manufactures 
 in a country does not consist, as is commonly sup- 
 posed, in their highly advancing the value of rough 
 materials, of which they are formed ; since, though 
 nxpennyworth of flax may be worth twenty shillings 
 
ESSAYS 235 
 
 A^-SfS. . _^J 
 
 when worked into lace, yet the very cause of its 
 being worth twenty shillings is that, besides the 
 6ax, it has cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in 
 subsistence, to the manufacturer. But the advan 
 tage of manufactures, J0 , ihat, under their shape, 
 provisions may be more easily carried to a foreign 
 market ; and by their means our traders may more 
 easily cheat strangers. Few, where it is not made, 
 are judges of the value of lace. The importer may 
 demand forty, and perhaps get thirty shillings for 
 . that which cost him but twenty. 
 
 12. Finally, there seems to be but three ways for 
 a nation to acquire wealth. The first is by war, as 
 the Romans did, in plundering their conquered 
 neighbours; this is robbery. The second by com 
 merce, which is generally cheating. The third by 
 agriculture, the only honest way, wherein a nan re 
 ceives a real increase of the seed thrown into the 
 ground in a k >d of continued miracle, wrought by 
 ihe hand of f vid in his favour, as a reward for hii 
 * V* *xd his virtuous industry. 
 
 B. FRANKLIN. 
 
238 ESSAYS. 
 
 PRELIMINARY ADDRESS TO THE PENNSYLVANIA AL 
 MANAC, ENTITULED, "POOR RICHARD S AL 
 MANAC, FOR THE YEAR 1758." 
 
 WRITTEN BY DR. FRANKLIN. 
 
 F 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 en 
 joyed,; for though I have been, if I may say it without 
 vanity, an eminent author (of Almanacs) annually 
 now a fuM quarter of a century, my brother authors 
 in the same way (for what reason I know not) have 
 ever been very sparing in their applauses ; and -no 
 other author has taken the least notice of me : so that, 
 did not my writings produce me some solid pudding, 
 the great deficiency of praise would have quite dis 
 couraged 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 person 
 ally known, I have frequently heard one or other of 
 my adages repeated, with " as poor Richard says," 
 at the end on t. This gave me some satisfaction, as 
 it showed aot only that my instructions were regard 
 ed, but discovered likewise some respect for my au 
 thority ; and I own, that to encourage the practice of 
 remembering and repeating those wise sentences, 1 
 have sometimes quoted myself with great gravity. 
 
 Judge then how much I have been gratified by an 
 Incident which I am going to relate to you. I stop 
 ped my horse lately where a great number of people 
 were collected at an auction of merchants 7 goods. 
 The hour of sale not being come, they were convers 
 ing on the badness of the times ; and one of the com 
 pany 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 
 
ESSAYS. 237 
 
 country ? How shall we be ever able to pay them ? 
 What would you advise us to ?" Father Abraham 
 stood up, and replied, " If you d have my advice, 
 I ll give it to you in short ; for a word to the wise is 
 enough ; and many words wont fill a bushel, as poor 
 Richard says." They joined in desiring him to speak 
 nis mind ; and, gathering round him, he proceeded as 
 follows : 
 
 " Friends (says he) and neighbours, the taxes are 
 Indeed very heavy ; and if those laid on by the go 
 vernmerit were the only ones we had to pay, wa 
 might :nore easily discharge them ; but we have ma 
 il} others, and much more grievous to some of us. 
 VVe are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three 
 times as much by our pride, and four times as much 
 by our folly ; and from these taxes the commission 
 ers cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abate 
 ment However, let us hearken to good advice, and 
 something may be done for us ; God helps them 
 that help themselves, as poor Richard says in his 
 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 afl that is spent in ab 
 solute sloth, or doing of nothing, with that which is 
 spent in idle employments, or amusements that 
 amount to nothing. Sloth, by bringing on diseases, 
 absolutely shortens life. * Sloth, like rust, consumes 
 faster than labour wears, while the key often used is 
 always bright, as poor Richard says. * But dost 
 thou love life? then do not squander time, for that s 
 tine stuff life is made of, as poor Richard says. How 
 tfmch more than is necessary do we spend in sleep ! 
 forgetting, that * the sleeping fox catches no poultry, 
 and that there will be sleeping enough in the grave, 
 es poor Richard says. * If time be of all things the 
 most precious, wasting time must be (as poor Rich* 
 ard says) the greatest prodigality ; since, as he else 
 where 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 
 Uie purpose : so by diligence shall we do more with 
 
833 ESSAVR 
 
 ess perplexity. * Sloth makes all tnmgs difficult, 
 but industry all easy, 1 as poor Richard says ; and, 
 he that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce 
 overtake his business at night; while laziness tra 
 vels so slowly, -that poverty soon overtakes him, as 
 we read in poor Richard; who adds, * Drive thy 
 business, let not that drive thee ; and, 
 
 * Early to bed, and early to rise, 
 Makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.* 
 
 ** So what signifies wishing and hoping for better " 
 limes? We make these times better if we bestir our- j 
 selves. * Industry needs not wish, 7 as poor Richard 
 says ; * He that lives upon hope will die fasting. 
 
 There are no gains without pains ; then help hands, 
 for I have no lands ; or if I have they are smartly 
 taxed ; and, (as poor Richard likewise observes) 
 
 He that hath a trade hath an estate, and he that 
 hath a calHng hath an office of profit and honour ; 
 but then the trade must be worked at, and the calling 
 well followed, or neither the estate nor the office will 
 enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious 
 we shall never starve; for, as poor Richard says, 
 At the working-man s house hunger looks in, bul 
 dares not enter. Nor will the bailiff or the consta 
 ble enter; for, * Industry pavs debts, but despair in- 
 creaseth them, says poor Richard. What though 
 you have found no tieasure, nor has any lich 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 soil and to keep, says 
 poor Dick. Work while it is called to-day; for you 
 iinow not how much you may be hindered to-morrow ; 
 which makes poor Richard say, * One to-day is worth 
 two to-morrows ; and, farther, * Have you some 
 what to do to-morrow, do it to-day. * If you were 
 a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good mas 
 ter should catch you idle? Are you then your own mas 
 ter, be ashamed to catch yourself idle, as poor Dick 
 says. When there is so much to be done for yourself^ 
 your family, and your gracious king, be up by peep o 
 
ESSAYS. 239 
 
 day ; * Let not the sun look down, and say, Inglorious 
 here he lies ! Handle your tools without mittens ; it> 
 member, that * the cat in gloves catches no mice, ai 
 poor Richard says. It is true, there is much to be 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 dili 
 gence and patience the mouse ate into the cable ; and 
 light strokes fell great oaks, as poor Riclmrd says in 
 his Almanac, the year I cannot just now remember 
 
 " Methinks I hear some of you say, must a mat 
 afford himself no leisure ? I will tell thee, my friend 
 what poor Richard says : Employ thy time well, it 
 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 ihat, as poor Richard says, * A life of leisure and 
 a life of laziness arc two things. Do you imagine that 
 sloth will afford you more comfort than labour ? No; 
 for, as poor Richard says, 4 Troubles spring from 
 idleness, and grievous toils from needless ease : many 
 without labour would live hy their own wits only ; 
 but they break for want of stock. Whereas indus 
 try gives comfort, and plenty, and respect. * Fly 
 pleasures, and they ll follow you ; the diligent sphv 
 ner 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, & 
 
 * I never saw an oft-removed tree, 
 
 IV T or yet an oft- removed family, 
 
 That throre 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 
 Uiee; and again, * If you would have your business 
 done, go ; if not, send. And again, 
 
240 ESSAYS. 
 
 1 He that by the plow would thrive 
 Himself must either hold or drive 
 
 And again, * The eye of the master will Jo more 
 work than both his hands; and again, Want of 
 care does us more damage than want of knowledge;* 
 and again, 4 Not to oversee workmen is to leave them 
 your purse open. Trusting too much to others care 
 s the ruin of many: for, as the Almanac says, * la 
 ne affairs of the world, men are saved not by faith 
 bu^by the want of it ; but a man s own care is pro 
 fitable ; for, saith poor Dick, * Learning is to the stu 
 dious, and riches to the careful, as well as power t* 
 to the bold, and heaven to the virtuous. And, far 
 ther, If you would have a faithful servant, and on* 
 that you lika, serve yourself. And again, he advia- 
 cth to circumspection and caro, even in the smalleat 
 matters, because sometimes, * .A little neglect may 
 breetl great mischief; adding, * For want of a naU 
 the shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was 
 tost ; 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 cer* 
 tainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how 
 to save as he gets, * keep his nose all his life to the 
 grindstone, an 1 , die not worth a groat at last. * A 
 fat kitchen makes a lean will, as poor Richard 
 eays; and, 
 
 Many estates are spent In the getting ; 
 Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting 
 And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting. 
 
 * * If you would be wealthy, (says he, in anothet 
 Almanac) think of saving, as well as of getting : the 
 Indies have not made Spain rich, because her ouU 
 goes are gi eater than her incomes 
 
ESSAYS 241 
 
 Away than with your expensive follies, and yoo 
 will not have much cause to complain of hard times, 
 heavy taxes, and chargeable fauces; for, as poor 
 Dick says, 
 
 ** Women and wine, game ana aeceif, 
 Make the wealth small, and the want great. 1 
 
 M And, farther, * What maintains one vice, woul 
 ring up two children.* You may think, perhaps 
 that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, diet 
 a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a littk 
 entertainment now and then, can be no great mattery 
 hut remember what poor Richard says, * Many a lit 
 tle makes a meikle ; and farther, * Beware of littte 
 expenses ; a small leak will sink a great ship ; and 
 again, Win dainties love, shall beggars prove ; and, 
 moreover, Fools make feasts, and wise men eal 
 them. 
 
 Here you are all got together at this sale of fine 
 ries and nicknacks. You call them goods; but if 
 you do not take care, taey will prove evils to some of 
 you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and per 
 haps they may for lew 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 na need of, and ere long thou shall sell thy ne 
 cessaries. And again, * At a great pennyworth pause 
 awhile. H*J means, that perhaps the cheapness is 
 apparent only, or not real ; or the bargain, by strait 
 ening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm 
 than good. For in another place he says, * Many 
 have been ruined by buying goud pennyworths. 
 Again, as poor Richard says, * It is foolish to lay out 
 money in a purchase of repentance ; and yet this 
 folly is practised every day at auctions, for want ol 
 minding the Almanac. * Wise men (as poor Dick says) 
 learn by others harms, fools scarcely by their own | 
 but Felix quam fadunt aliena pericula cautumS-- 
 Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have 
 gone with a hungry belly, and half starved their fa 
 milies : * Silk and satins, scarlet and velvets, (aj 
 uoor Richard says) put out the kitchen fire. 1 These 
 
242 ESSAYS. 
 
 are not the necessaries of life ; they can scarcely be 
 called the conveniences ; and yet only because they 
 look pretty, how many want to have them ? The ar 
 tificial wants of mankind thus become more numer 
 ous than the natural ; and as poor Dick says, * For 
 one poor person there are a hundred indigent. By 
 these^and other extravagances, thegentee 1 are reduced 
 to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they 
 formerly despised, but who, through industry and 
 frugality, have maintained their standing ; in whic 
 case, it appears plainly, * A ploughman on his legs 
 higher than a gentleman on his knees/ as poor Rich 
 ard says. Perhaps they have had a small estate left 
 them, which they knew not the getting of; they think, 
 * It is day, and will never be night ; that a little to be 
 spent out of so much, is not worth minding; : * A child 
 and a fool (as poor Richard says) imagine twenty 
 shillings and twenty years can never be spent ; but 
 always be taking out of the meal-tub, and never put 
 ting 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, in 
 deed, so does he that lend to such people, when he 
 goes to get it in again. Poor Dick farther advises, 
 and says, 
 
 1 Fonrf 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, anfl 
 a great deal more saucy. When you have bought 
 one fine thing, you must buy ten moi-e, that youi 
 appearance may be all of a piece j but poor JDich 
 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. 
 
ESSAYS. 243 
 
 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, 7 as poof 
 Richard says. And in another place, * Pride break> 
 fasted with Plenty, dined wiih 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 ; iX 
 nastensfcnisfortune. 
 
 What is a butterfly? at beat, * 
 
 He s but a caterpillar drest ; 
 The gaudy ibp s his picture jusV 
 
 ts poor Richard says. 
 
 " But what madness must it be to run in debt for 
 these superfluities ! 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 hope now to be fine with 
 out it But, ah ! think what you do when you run 
 in debt. You give to another power over your liber 
 ty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be 
 ashamed to see your creditor: you will be in fear 
 when you speak to him ; you will make poor, pitiful, 
 sneaking excuses, and by degrees come to lose your 
 veracity, and sink into base downright lying; for, as 
 poor Richard says, 4 The second vice is lying; the 
 hrst is running in debt. And again, to the gama 
 purpose, * Lying rides upon debt s oack ; whereas a 
 tee-bora 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 tru/y says. What would you think 
 of that prince, or that government, who would issut 
 an edict, forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or 
 rentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude f 
 Would you not say, that you were free, have a right 
 to dress as you please, and that such an edict would 
 
244 ESSAYS. 
 
 be a breach of your privileges, and such a govern 
 merit tyrannical? And yet you are about to put your 
 self under that tyranny when you run in debt for such 
 dress ! Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, 
 tc deprive you of your liberty, by confining you in 
 goal for life, or by selling you for a servant, if you 
 should not be able to pay him. When you have got 
 your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of pay 
 ment ; but 4 Creditors (poor Richard tells us) have 
 better memories than debtors ; and in another placo 
 he says, * Creditors are a superstitious sect, great 
 observers of set days and times. The day come* 
 round before you are aware, and the demand is made 
 before you are prepared to satisfy it. Or if you bear 
 your debt in mind, the term which at first seemed so 
 long, will as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time 
 will seem to have added wings to his heels as well ay 
 at his shoulders. * Those have a short Lent (saiti 
 poor Richard) who owe money to be paid at Easter. 
 Then since, as he says, * The borrower is a slave tt 
 the lender, and the debtor to the creditor; 1 disdain 
 the chain, preserve your freedom, and maintain youi 
 independency : be industrious and free ; be frugal 
 and free. At present, perhaps, you may think your 
 selves in thriving circumstances, and that you can 
 bear a little extravagance without injury ; but 
 
 * For age and want save while you may, 
 
 No morning sun lasts a whole day. 
 
 > 
 
 as poor Richard says. Gain may be temporary anr 
 uncertain ; but ever, while you live, expense is con- 
 taut and certain : and * it is easier to build twc 
 diimneys, than to keep one in fuel,* as poor Rich 
 ard says. So * Rather go to bed supperless than fist 
 m debt. 
 
 * Get what you can, and what you get hold, 
 
 *Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into golJ * 
 
 as poor Richard says. And when you have got tht 
 philosopher s stone, sure you will no longer complain 
 of bad times, or the difficulty of paying taxes. 
 
ESSAYS. 243 
 
 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 excel 
 lent 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 pre 
 sent seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Re 
 member Job suffered, and was afterwards pros 
 perous. 
 
 " And now, to conclude, 4 Experience keeps a dear 
 school ; but fools will learn in no other, and scarce 
 in that ; for it is true, we may give advice, but we 
 cannot give conduct, as poor Richard says. How 
 ever, remember this, * They that will not be coun 
 selled, 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 harrangua 
 The people 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 extravagantly, notwithstand 
 ing all his cautions, and their own fear of taxes. I 
 found the good man had thoroughly studied my Al 
 manacs, 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 de 
 lighted with it, though I was conscious that not a 
 tenth part of the wisdom was my own, which he as 
 cribed to me, but rather the gleanings that I had made 
 of the sense of all ages and nations. Howsver, I re 
 solved to be the better for the echo of it ; and though 
 I had first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I 
 went away, resolved to wear my old one a little Ion- 
 let. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit wife 
 be as great as mine. 
 
 I am, as ever, thine to serve thee, 
 
 RICHARD SAUNDERS. 
 
246 ESSAYS. 
 
 THE 
 
 INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. 
 
 Being a true Description of the Interest 
 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 civi 
 lized people attempt establishing themselves in a 
 wilderness country. Being piously 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 
 discontented ; 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 farmer of plain sense rose and re 
 marked, that the inconvienences they suffered, and 
 concerning which they had so often 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 re 
 ward their labour, and to furnish liberally for their 
 subsistence ; that the seas and rivers were found ful 
 of fish, the air sweet, the climate healthy; and 
 Above all, that they were there in the full enjoyment 
 of liberty, civil and religious - he therefore thought, 
 that 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 to the Divine 
 Being, if, instead of a fast, they shculd proclaim a 
 thanksgiving. His advice was taken ; and from that 
 
ESfeAVS. 247 
 
 day to this thsy have, in every year, observed cir- 
 Cumstances of public felicity sufficient to furnish em 
 ployment for a thanksgiving day ; which is therefore 
 constantly ordered and religiously observed. 
 
 I see in the public newspapers of different States 
 frequent complaints of hard times, deadness qftrade^ 
 scarcity of money, &c. &c. It is not my intention 
 tc assert or maintain that these complaints are entire 
 ly without foundation. There can be no country or 
 nation existing, in which there will not be some peo 
 pie so circumstanced as to find it hard to gain a live 
 lihood; people, who are not in the way of any 
 profitable trade, with whom money is scarce, be 
 cause they have nothing to give in exchange for it; 
 and it is always in the power of a email number 
 to make a great clamour. But let us take a cool 
 view of the general state of our affairs, and per 
 haps the prospect will appear less gloomy than has 
 been imagined. 
 
 The great business of the continent is agriculture. 
 For one artizan, or merchant, I suppose we nave at 
 least one hundred farmers, by far the greatest part 
 cultivators of their own fertile lands, from whence 
 many of them draw not only food necessary for their 
 subsistence, but the materials of their clothing, so as 
 to need very few foreign supplies : while they have a 
 surplus of productions to dispose of, whereby wealth 
 is gradually accumulated. Such has been the good 
 ness of Divine Providence to these regions, and so 
 favourable 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 heai d of 
 amongst us ; on the contrary, though some years may 
 bave been more, and others less plentiful, there hai 
 always been provision enough for ourselves, and a 
 quantity to spare for exportation. And although the 
 crops of last year were generally good, never was the 
 fanner better paid for trie part he can spare com 
 merce, as the published price currents abundantly 
 testify. The lands he possesses are also continually 
 rising in value with the increase of population ; and 
 on the whole, he is enabled to give such good wage* 
 to those who work for him, that all who are acquaiut- 
 
248 ESSAYS. 
 
 ed with the old world must agree, that in no part O 
 it are the labouring poor so generally well fed, well 
 lodged, and well paid, as in the United Stated of 
 America. 
 
 If we enter the cities, we find that since the Re* 
 yolution, the owners of houses and lots of ground 
 have had their interest vastly augmented in value ; 
 rents have risen to an astonishing height, and thenc* 
 encouragement to increase building, which gives em 
 ployment to an abundance of workmen, as does als* 
 the increased luxury and splendour of living of th 
 inhabitants thus made richer. These workmen al. 
 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 complain of hard times ; and 
 they make a very considerable part of the city inha 
 bitants. 
 
 At the Distance I live from our American fish 
 eries, I cannot speak of them with any degree of cer 
 tainty ; but I have not heard that the labour of the 
 valuable race of men employed in them is worse paid, 
 or that they met with Jess success, than before the re 
 volution. The whale-men indeed have been depriv 
 ed of one market for their oil, but another, I hear, is 
 opening for them, which it is hoped may be equally ad 
 vantageous ; and the demand is constantly increas 
 ing 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 01 tha 
 whole nation, the number is considerable, too great 
 indeed for the business they are employed in ; for the 
 consumption of goods in every country has its limits; 
 the faculties of the people, that is, their ability to buy 
 end pay, are equal to a certain quantity of merchant, 
 disc. 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 farmers from 
 the country, flattering themselves with the idea ol 
 
ESSAYS. 249 
 
 tending easier lives, turn shopkeepers, the whole 
 tatural quantity of that business divided among 
 hem all may afford too small a share for each, and 
 jccasion complaints that trading is dead : these may 
 tlso suppose that it is owing to scarcity of money, 
 while, iti fact, it is not so much from the fewness of 
 buyers, as from the excessive number of sellers, that 
 the mischief arises ; and, if ever} r shopkeeping farmer 
 and mechanic would return to the use of his plough 
 and working tools, there would remain of widows 
 and other women, shop-keepers sufficient for the busi 
 ness, which might then afford them a comfortable 
 maintenance. 
 
 Whoever has travelled through the various parts of 
 Europe, and observed how small is the proportion of 
 people in affluence or easy circumstances th^re, com 
 pared with those in poverty and misery ; the few rich 
 and haughty landlords, the multitude of poor, abject, 
 rack-rented, tythe-paying tenants, and half-paid and 
 half-starved ragged labourers ; and views here the 
 happy mediocrity that so generally prevails through 
 out these States, where the cultivator works for him 
 self, and supports his family in decent plenty ; will 
 methinks, see abundant reason to bless Divine Pro 
 vidence for the evident and great difference in our 
 favour, and be convinced that no nation known to 
 us enjoy a greater share of human felicity. 
 
 It is true, that in some of the States there are par 
 ties and discords; but let us look back, and ask if we 
 were ever without them ? Such will exist wherever 
 there is liberty ; and perhaps Jliey help to preserve it. 
 By the collision of different sentiments, sparks of 
 truth are struck out, and political light is obtained,. 
 The different factions, which at present divide us. 
 aim all at the public good ; the differences are only 
 about the various modes of promoting it. Things, 
 actions, 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 game time on every subject, when hardly the 
 same man retains at all times the same ideas of it. Par 
 ties are therefore the common lot of humanity ; and 
 purs are by no means more mischievous or less benefici 
 
250 ESSAYS. 
 
 al than than those of other countries, nations, and sge, 
 enjoying in the sarae degree the great blessings of 
 political liberty. 
 
 Some indeed among us are not so much grieved 
 for the present state of our affairs, as apprehensive 
 for the future. The growth of luxury alarms them, 
 and they think we are from that alone in the high road 
 to ruin. Thsy observe, that no revenue is sufficient 
 without economy, and that the most plentiful in 
 come of a whole people from the natural production* 
 of their country may be dissipated in vain and need 
 less expenses; and poverty be introduced in the 
 place of affluence. This may be possible, ft how 
 ever, rarely happens ; for there seems to be in every 
 nation a greater proportion of industry and frugality, 
 which tend to enrich, than of idleness and prodigal 
 ity, which occasion poverty ; so that upon the whole 
 there is a continual accumulation. Reflect what 
 Spain, Gaul, Germany, and Brtiain were in the time of 
 the Romans, inhabited by people little richer than 
 our savages, and consider the wealth that they at 
 present possess, hi numerous well-built cities, im 
 proved farms, rich moveables, magazines stocked 
 with valuable manufactures, to say nothing of plate, 
 jewels and coined money ; and all this, notwithstand 
 ing their bad, wasteful, plundering governments, and 
 their mad destructive wars ; and yet luxury and ex 
 travagant living has never suffered much restraint in 
 those countries. Then consider the great proportion 
 of industrious frugal fanners inhabiting the interior 
 parts of these American States, and of whom the 
 body of our nation consists, and judge whether it is 
 possible that the luxury of our seaports can be suffi 
 cient :o ruin such a country. If the importation of 
 foreign luxuries could ruin a people, we should pro 
 bably have been ruined long ago; for the British na 
 tion claimed a right, and practised it, of importing 
 among us not only the superfluities of their own pro 
 duction, but those of every nation under heaven; we 
 bought and consumed them, and yet we flourished 
 and grew rich. At present our independent govern 
 ments may do what we could not then do, discourage 
 by heavy duties, or prevent by heavy prohibitions, 
 
ESSAYb. 25) 
 
 uch irnoortations, and thereby grow richer : if, in 
 deed, which may admit of dispute, the desire of 
 adorning ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine 
 furniture, with elegant houses, &c. is not, by strong 
 ly inciting to labour and industry, the occasion of 
 producing a greater value than is contu ued in the 
 gratification 01 that desire. 
 
 The agriculture and fisheries of the United States 
 Are the great sources of our increasing wealth. He 
 lhat puts a seed into the earth is recompensed, per 
 haps, by receiving forty out of it, and he who draws 
 a fish out of our water draws up a pieca of silver. 
 
 Let us (and there is no doubt but we shall) be at 
 tentive to thesa, and then the power of rivals, with 
 all their restraining and prohibiting acts, cannot 
 much hurt us. We are sens of the earth and sea?, 
 and, like Antreus in the fable, if in wrestling with a 
 Hercules, we now and then receive a fall, the touch 
 of our parents will communicate to us fresh strength 
 and vigour to renew the contes 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 INFORMATION TO THOSE WHO WOULD 
 REMOVE TO AMERICA. 
 
 p 
 b 
 
 MANY persons in Europe have directly, or by let 
 ters, expressed to the writer of this, who is well ac 
 quainted with North America, their desire of trans 
 orting and establishing themselves in that country, 
 ut who appear to have formed, through ignorance^ 
 mistaken ideas and expectations of what is to be ob 
 tained there ; he thinks it may be useful, and prevent 
 inconvenient, expensive, and fruitless removals anJ 
 voyages of improper persons, if he gives some clear 
 er notions of that part of the world than appear to 
 have hitherto prevailed. 
 
 He finds it is imagined by numbers, that the in 
 habitants of North America are rich, capable of re 
 warding, and disposed to reward, all sorts of ingenuity ; 
 that they are at the same time ignorant of all the scien 
 ces, and consequently that strangers, possessing talents 
 in the belles-lettres,, fine arts, &c. must be highly es 
 teemed, and so well paid as to become easily rich 
 themselves ; that there are also abundance of pro 
 fitable offices to be disposed of which the natives are 
 not qualified to fill ; and that having few persons of 
 family among them, strangers of birth must be great- 
 )y respected, and of course easily obtain the best of 
 Jiose offices, which will make all their fortunes i 
 thai the governrrfents too, to encourage emigrations 
 from Euiope, not only pay the expense of personal 
 transportation, but give lands gratis to strangers, with 
 negroes to work for them, utensils of husbandry, and 
 stocks of cattle. These are all wild imaginations $ 
 and those who go America with expectations found 
 ed upon them, will surely find themselves disap 
 pointed. 
 Tne truth is, that though there are in that country 
 
ESSAYS. 254 
 
 few people so miserable as the poor of Europe, there 
 are also very few that in Europe would be called 
 rich : it is rather a general happy mediocrity that 
 prevails. There are few great proprietors of the soil, 
 and few tenants; most people cultivate their own 
 lands, or follow some handicraft or merchandise ; 
 very few rich enough to live idly upon their rents or 
 incomes, or to pay the high prices given in Europe 
 for painting, statutes, architecture, and the other 
 works of art that are more curious than useful 
 Hence the natural genuises that have arisen in Ame 
 rica, 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 ; their being 
 alreadyjCxistingnine colleges, or universities, viz. four 
 in Nevr England, and one in each of the provinces of 
 New York, New Jersy, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and 
 Virginia all furnished with learned professors ; be 
 sides a number of smaller acadamies : these edu 
 cate many of their youth in the languages, and those 
 sciences that qualify men for the professions of divi 
 nity, law or physic. Strangers, indeed, are by no 
 means excluded from exercising those professions; 
 and the quick increase of inhabitants every where 
 gives them a chance of employ, which they have in 
 common with the natives. Of civil offices or em 
 ployments, there are few ; no superflous ones, as 
 in Europe ; and it is a rule established in some of th 
 States, that no office should be so profitable as to 
 make it desirable. The 36th article of the const! tu- 
 lion of Pennsylvania runs expressly in these words : 
 " As every freeman, to preserve hj 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 necessitv 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, corruption, and disorder among the peo 
 ple. Wherefore, whenever an office, through ia 
 
254 ESSAT3. 
 
 crease of fees or otherwise, becomes so profitable at 
 to occasion many to apply for it, the profits ought te 
 be lessened by the legislature." 
 
 These ideas prevailing more or less in the United 
 States, it cannot be worth ai.y man s white, who has 
 a means of living at home, to expatriate himself in 
 hopes of obtaining a profitable civil office in Ameri 
 ca ; and as to military offices, they are at an end with 
 the war, the armies being disbanded. Much lei is 
 it advisable for a person to gx> thither, who has no 
 other quality to recommend him than his birth. In 
 Europe it has indeed its value; but it is a commodi 
 ty that cannot be carried to a worse market than to 
 that of America, where people do not enquire con 
 cerning a stranger, What is he? but Whuicnnhedo? 
 If he has any useful ait, 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 disregard 
 ed. The husbandman is in honour there and even 
 the mechanic, because their employments are useful. 
 The people have a saying, that God Almighty is him 
 self a mechanic, the greatest in the universe; and he 
 is respected and admired more for the variety, inge 
 nuity, and utility of his handicraft works, than for 
 the antiquity of his family. They are pleased with 
 the observation of a negro, and frequently mention it, 
 that Boccarorra (meaning the white man) make de 
 black man workee, make de horse workee, make de 
 ox workee, make ebery ting workee, only de hog. 
 He, de hog, no workee; he eat, he drink, he walk 
 about, he go to sleen when he please, he libb like a gen 
 tleman. Accori*ng to these opinions of the Ameri 
 cans, one of them would think himself more obliged 
 to a genealogist, who could prove for him that his an 
 cestors and relations for ten generations had been 
 ploughmen, smiths, carpenters, turners,, weavers, tan 
 ners, or even shoe-makers, and consequently that 
 they were useful members of society ; than if he 
 could only prove that they were gentlemen, doing 
 nothing of value, but living idly on the labour of 
 
ESSAYS. 255 
 
 others, mere fruges consumere nati,* and othervviso 
 good for nothing, till by their death their estates, like 
 the carcass of the negro s gentleman-hog, come to be 
 cut up. 
 
 With regarrt to the encouragements for strangers 
 from government, they are really only what are de 
 rived 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 indus 
 try. But if he does not bring a fortune with him he 
 must work and be industrious to live. One or two 
 years residence give him all the rights of a citizen ; 
 but the government does not at present, whatever 
 it may have done in former times, hire people to 
 become settlers, by paying their passage, giving land, 
 negroes, utensils, stock, or any other kind of emolu 
 ment whatsoever. In short, America is the land ol 
 labour, and by no means what the English call Lub- 
 berland, and tlie French Pays de Cocagne, 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 em 
 igration to America may be advantageous ? And what 
 are the advantages they may reasonably expect ? 
 
 Land being cheap in that country, from the vast 
 forests still void of inhabitants, and not likely to be 
 occupied in an age to come, insomuch that the pro 
 perty of an hundred acres of fertile soil, full of wood, 
 may be obtained near the frontiers, in many places, 
 for eight or ten guineas, hearty young labouring men, 
 who understand the husbandry of corn and cattle, 
 which is nearly the same in that country as in Eu 
 rope, may easily establish themselves there. A little 
 money, saved of the good wages they receive there 
 while they work for others, enables them to buy the 
 
 *-at -J| thr corn. YVattt. 
 
256 ESSAYS. 
 
 land and begin their plantation, in which they am 
 assisted by the good will of their neighbours, and 
 some credit. Multitudes of poor people from Eng 
 land, Ireland, Scotland, and Germany, have by this 
 means in a few years became wealthy fanners, who 
 in their own countries, where all the lands are fully 
 occupied, and the wages of labour low, could nevei 
 have emerged from the mean condition wherein they 
 were born. 
 
 From the salubrity of the air, the healthiness of tha 
 climate, the plenty of good provisions, and the en 
 couragement to early marriages, by the certainty of 
 subsistence in cultivating the earth, the increase of 
 inhabitants by natural generation is very rapid in 
 America, and becomes still more so by the accession 
 of strangers : hence there is a continual demand for 
 inoro artisans of all the necessary and useful kinds, 
 to supply those cultivators of the earth with houses, 
 and with furniture and utensJls of the grosser sorts, 
 which cannot so we ll be brought from Europe. To 
 lerably good workmen in any of those mechanic arts, 
 are sure to find employ, and to be well paid for their 
 work, there being no restraints preventing strangers 
 from exercising any art they understand, nor any 
 permission necessary. If they are poor, they begin 
 first as servants or journeymen ; and if they are sober, 
 industrious, and frugal, they soon become masters, 
 establish themselves in business, marry, raise iami- 
 lies, 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 se 
 cure 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 aits, without incurring disgrace on that 
 account; but, on the contrary, acquiring respect to 
 such abilities. There small capitals laid out in I 
 lands, which daily become more valuable by the in 
 crease of people, afford a solid prospect of ample for 
 tunes thereafter for those children. The writer ol 
 this haa known several instances of large tracts of 
 land bought on what was then the frontiers of Penn- 
 
ESSAYS. 257 
 
 sylvania, for ten pounds per hundred 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 
 English acre, or the acre of Normandy. 
 
 Those who desire to understand the state of go 
 vernment in America, would do well to read the con- 
 r.itutions of the several States, and the articles of 
 confederation which bind the whole together for ge- 
 eral purposes, under the direction of one Assembly, 
 called the Congress. These constitutions have been 
 printed, by order of Congress, in America; two edi 
 tions 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 
 ail commodities and manufactures within their own 
 dominions, so as to diminish or render useless their 
 importations, have endeavoured to entice workmen 
 from other countries, by high salaries, privileges, &c. 
 Many persons pretending to be skilled in various great 
 manufactures, imagining that America must be in 
 want of them, and that the Congress would probably 
 be disposed to imitate the princes abovementioned, 
 have proposed to go over on condition of having their 
 passage paid, lands given, salaries appointed, exclu 
 sive privileges for terms of years, &c. Such persons, 
 on reading the articles of confederation, will find that 
 the Congress have no power committed to them, or 
 money put into their hands, for such purposes ; and 
 hat, if any such enoourngement is given, it must be 
 iff the government of some separate state. This, 
 Aowever, has rarely been done in America ; and 
 when it has been done, it has rarely succeeded, so as 
 to establish a manufacture, which the country was 
 not yet so ripe for as to encourage private persons to 
 set it up ; labour being generally too dear, difficult to 
 be kept together, every one desiring to be a master, and 
 the cheapness of land inclining many to leave trades 
 for agriculture. Some indeed have met with success, 
 
258 ESSAYS. 
 
 and are carried on to advantage ; but they are gene* 
 rally such as require only a few hands, or wherein 
 great part of the work is performed by machines. 
 Goods that are bulky, and of so small a value as not 
 well to bear the expense of freight, may often be made 
 cheaper in the country than they can be imported ; 
 and the manufacture of such goods will be profitable 
 wherever there is a sufficient demand. The farmeri 
 m America produce indeed a good deal of wool and 
 fla^, and none is exported it is all worked up ; bit 
 k is in ihe way of domestic manufacture, for the us 
 of die family. The buying up quantities of wool and 
 fia><, with the design to employ spinners, weavers, 
 &- . and form great establishments, producing quan 
 tities of linen and woollen goods for sale, has been 
 se\eral times attempted in different provinces ; but 
 three projects have generally failed, goods of equal 
 value being imported cheaper. And when the go* 
 ve-nments have been solicited to support such schemet 
 by encouragements, in money, or by imposing duties 
 en importation of such goods, it has been generally 
 relused, on this principle, that if the country is ripe 
 foi the manufacture, it may be carried on by privatt 
 persons to advantage; and, if not, it is folly to think 
 of forcing nature. Great establishments of manufac 
 ture require great numbers of poor do the work for 
 small wages ; those poor are to be found in Europe, 
 but will not be found in America, till the lands are 
 all taken up and cultivated, and the excess of peo 
 ple who cannot get land want employment. Th 
 ^manufacture of silk, they say, is natural in France, 
 as that of cloth in England, because each country 
 produces in plenty the first njaterial ; but if England 
 vill have a manufacture of silk as well as that of 
 doth, and France of cloth as well as that of silk 
 these unnatural operations must be supported by 
 mutual prohibitions, or high duties on the importa 
 tions of each others goods; by which means the 
 workmen are enabled to tax the home consumer by 
 greater prices, while the higher wages they receive 
 makes them neither happier nor richer, since they 
 only drink more and work less. Therefore the go 
 vernment in America do* nothing to encourage such 
 
ESSAYS. 2S9 
 
 projeets. The people by this means are not imposed 
 on either by the merchant or mechanic : if the mer 
 chant demands too much profit on imported ghoes, 
 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 ether. The shoe 
 maker however has, on the whole, a considerable 
 profit upon his labour in America, beyond what h 
 Lad in Europe, as he can add to his price a sun 
 nearly equal to all the expenses of freight and com 
 mission, risk or assurance, &c. necessarily charger 
 by the merchant. And the case* is the same with tlia 
 workman in every other mechanic art. Hence it is, 
 that the artisans generally live better and more easily 
 in America than in Europe ; and such as are good 
 economists make a comfortable provision for age, 
 and for their children. Such may, therefore move 
 with advantage to America. 
 
 In the old long-settled countries of Europe, all arts, 
 trades, professions, farms, &c. are si full, that it is 
 difficult for a poor man who has children to place 
 them where they may gain, or learn to gain, a decent 
 livelihood. The artisans, who fear creating future 
 rivals in business, refuse to take apprentices, but 
 upon conditions of money, maintenance or the like, 
 which the parents are unable to comply with. 
 Hence the youth are dragged up in ignorance of every 
 gainful art, raid obliged to became soldiers, or servants, 
 or thieves, for a subsistence. In America the rapid in 
 crease of inhabitants takes away that fear of rivalship, 
 and artisans willingly receive apprentices from the 
 hope of profit by their labour, during the remainder 
 of the lime stipulated, after they shall be instructed. 
 Hence it is easy for poor families to get their children 
 Instructed; for the artisans a r e so desirous of ap 
 prentices, that many of them will even give money 
 to the parents, to have boys from ten to fifteen years 
 of age bound apprentices to them, till the age ol 
 twenty-one ; ftno many poor parents have, by that 
 means, on their arrival in the country, raised money 
 enough to buy land sufficient to establish themselves, 
 and to subsist the rest of the family by agriculture. 
 
60 ESSAYS. 
 
 These contracts for apprentices are made before a 
 magistrate, who regulates the agreement according to 
 reason and justice; and, having in view the forma 
 tion of a future useful citizen, obliges the master to 
 engage by a written indenture, not only that, during 
 the time of service stipulated, the apprentice shall he 
 duly provided with meat, drink, apparal, 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, ot 
 some other, by which he may afterwards gain a live 
 lihood, 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 de- 
 cire among the masters to have more hands employ 
 ed in working for them, induces them to pay the pas 
 sage ot young persons of both sexes, who, on their ar 
 rival, agree to serve them one, two, three, or four 
 years; those who have already learned a trade, 
 agreeing for a shorter term, in proportion to their 
 skill, and the consequent in) mediate 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 pre 
 vails in America, obliging its people to follow some 
 business for subsistence, those vices that arise usual 
 ly from idleness, are in a great measure prevented. 
 Industry and constant employment are great preser 
 vatives of the morals and virtue of a nation. Hence 
 fcad examples to youth are more rare in America, 
 ivhich must be a comfortable consideration to pa 
 rents. To this may be truly added, that serious re 
 ligion, under its various denominations, is not only 
 tolerated, but respected and practised, Atheism is 
 unknown there ; and infidelity rare and secret ; so 
 that persons may live to a great age in that country 
 without having their piety shocked by meeting with 
 
ESSAYS 261 
 
 either an athittst or an infidel. And the Divine P 
 ing seems to have manifested his approbation of the 
 mutual forbearance and kindness with which the 
 different sects treat each other, by the remarkable 
 prosperity with which he has been pleased to favoux 
 the whole country. 
 
 THOUGHTS ON COMMERCIAL 
 SUBJECTS. 
 
 Of Embargoes upon Corn, and of the Poor. 
 
 IN mland high countries, remote from the sea, and 
 whose rivers are small, running from the country, 
 and not fo it, as is the case with Switzerland; great 
 distress may arise from a course of bad harvests, if 
 public graneries are not provided, and kept well 
 stored. Anciently, too, before navigation was so 
 general, ships so plenty, and commercial transac 
 tions so well established ; even maratime countries 
 might be occasionally distressed by bad crops. But 
 such is now the facility of communication between 
 those countries, than an unrestrained commerce can 
 scarce ever fail of procuring a sufficiency for any of 
 them. If indeed any government is so imprudent as to 
 lay its hands on imported corn, forbid its exportation, 
 or compel its sale at limited prices, there the people 
 may suffer some famine from merchants avoiding 
 their ports. But 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, occa 
 sioned by a higher price in some foreign countries, it 
 
ESSAYS. 62 
 
 is common to raise a clamour, on the supposition that 
 we shall thereby produce a domestic famine. Then 
 follows a prohibition, founded on the imagin iry dis 
 tresses of the poor. The poor, to be sure, if in dis 
 tress, should be relieved ; but if the farmer could have 
 a high price for his corn from the foreign demand, 
 must he by a prohibition of exportation be compelled 
 to take a low price, not of the poor only, but of every 
 >ne that eats bread, even the richest ? The duty o 
 relieving the poor is incumbent on the rich ; but by 
 Iris operation the whole burden is laid on the farmer 
 vho is to relieve the rich at the same time. Of thi 
 toor, too, those who are maintained by the parishei 
 fiave no right to claim this sacrifice of the farmer : as 
 vvhile they have their allowance, it makes no differ 
 ence f them, whether bread be cheap or dear. 
 Those working poor, who now mind business only 
 five or four days in the week, if bread should be so 
 dear as to oblige them to work the whole six required 
 by the commandment, do not seem to be aggrieved, 
 so as to have a right to public redress*. There vvi 1 
 then remain, comparatively, only a few familias lo 
 every district, who from sickness or a gi" at nunibtu 
 of children, will be so distressed by a hi^h price oi 
 corn, as need relief; and these should be tak n care of 
 by particular benefactions, without restraining the 
 farmer s profit. 
 
 Those who fear, that exportation may so iar drain 
 the country of corn, as to starve ourselves, fear what 
 never did, i,or never can happen. They may as well, 
 when they view the tide ebbing towards the sea, fear 
 that all tne water will leave the river. The price of 
 corn, like water, will find its own level. The more 
 we export, the dearer u becomes at home ; the more 
 is received abroad, the cheaper it becomes there 
 and as soon as these prices are equal, the exporta 
 tion stops of course. As the seasons vary in different 
 countries, tl<i calamity of a bad harvest is never uni 
 versal. If, Jieis, all ports were always open, and all 
 commerce f*ue, every maritime country would gene 
 rally 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 artiijcial regulations, and 
 
ESSAYS. 263 
 
 therefore a more steady encouragement to agriculture. 
 The nation would all have bread at this middle 
 price ; and that nation, which at any time inhumanly 
 refuses to relieve the distresses of another nation, 
 deserves no compassion when in distress itselt 
 
 Of Hit Effect of Dearness of Provisions upon 
 Working, and upon Manufactures. 
 
 The common people do not work for pleasure ge 
 nerally, but from necessity. Cheapness of provisions 
 make them more idle ; less work is then done, it is 
 then more in demand proportionally, and of course 
 the price rises. Dearness of provisions obliges th 
 manufacturer to work more days and more hours; 
 thus more work is done than equals the usual demand : 
 of course k becomes cheaper, and the manufactures 
 in consequence. 
 
 Of an Open" Trade. 
 
 Perhaps, in general, it would be better if govern 
 ment meddled no further with trade, than to protect 
 it, and let it take its course. Most of the statutes or 
 acts, edicts, arrets, and placaris of parliaments, 
 princes, and states, for regulating, directing, or 10- 
 straining of trade, have, we think, been either political 
 blunders, or jobs obtained by artful men for private 
 advantages under pretence of public good. When 
 Colbert assembled some of the wise old merchants of 
 France, and desired their advice and opinion how he-1 
 could best serve and promote commerce ; their an-** 
 iwer, after consultation, was in three words only. 
 Laissez nous faire ; " Let us alone." It is said br 
 a very solid writer of tha same nation, that he is weft 
 advanced in the science politics, who knows the full 
 force of thai maxim, Pas trop gouvemer, " not to 
 govern too much;" which, perhaps, would be of 
 more use when applied to trade, than in any other 
 public concern. It were therefore to be wished, that 
 commerce were as free between all the nations of the 
 world as it is between the several counties of Englant- 
 
264 ESSAYS. 
 
 eo would all, by mutual communications, obtain 
 more enjoyments. Those countries do not ruin each 
 other by trade, neither would the nations. No na 
 tion was ever ruined by trade, even, seemingly, the 
 most disadvantageous. 
 
 Wherever desirable superfluities are imported in 
 dustry is excited, and thereby plenty is produced. 
 Were only necessaries permitted to be purchased, 
 nen would work no more than was necessny for 
 hat purpose. 
 
 Of the Prohibition with respect to the Exportation $/ 
 Gold and Silver. 
 
 Could Spain and Portugal have succeeded in ex 
 ecuting 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 lessened their value. We 
 see the folly of these edicts; but are not our own 
 prohibitory and restrictive laws, that are professedly 
 made with intention to bring a balance in our favour 
 from our trade with foreign nations to be paid in 
 money, and laws to prevent the necessity of export 
 ing that money, which if they could be thoroughly 
 executed, would make money as plenty, and of as 
 little value ; I say, are not such laws a-kin to those 
 Spanish edicts ; follies of the same family. 
 
 Of the Returns for Foreign Articles. 
 
 In fact, the produce cf other countries can hardly 
 e obtained, unless by fraud and rapine, without giv 
 ing the produce of our land or our industry in ex 
 change for them. If we have mines of gold and sil 
 ver, gold and silver may then be called the produce 
 of our land ; if we have not we can only fairly ob 
 tain those metals by giving for them the produce of 
 our land or industry. When we have them, they are 
 then only that produce or industry in another shape; 
 which we may give, if the trade requires it, and out 
 
ESSAYS. 265 
 
 other produce will not suit, in exchange for the pro 
 duce of some other country that furnishes vhet *ve 
 have more occasion for, or more desire. "W nen \ve 
 have, to an inconvenient degree, parted with our 
 gold and silver, our industry is stimulated ( afiesh to 
 procure more ; that by its means we may contrive to 
 procure the same advantages. 
 
 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 com 
 mon good of mankind, as well as farmers and fish 
 ermen, who labour for the subsistence of all, should 
 never be interrupted or molested in their business, 
 but enjoy the protection of all in the time of war, as 
 \yell as in the time of peace. 
 
 This policy, those we are pleased to call barbari 
 ans, have, in a great measure, adopted : for tho 
 trading subjects of any power, with whom the Em 
 peror of Morrocco may be at war, are not liable to 
 capture, when within sight of his land, going or com 
 ing; 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 partially, as in the case of war with France, 
 when tobacco fs allowed to be sent thither under the 
 sanction of passports. 
 
 Exchange in Trade may be gainful to each 
 Party. 
 
 In transactions of trade it is not to be supposed 
 that, like gaming, what one party gains the other 
 must necessarily lose. The gain to each may be 
 equal. If A has more com than he can consume, 
 Out wants cattle ; and B has more cattle, bv.t wants 
 corn, exchange is ga ui to each : hereby the common 
 stock of comforts in life is increased. 
 
ESSAYS. 
 
 Of Paper Credit. ^ 
 
 i is Impossible for governm ent to circumserlBe 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 
 eeeming temporary evil arising ust naturally wort 
 its own cure. 
 
ESSAYS. 26T 
 
 fll/MOROUS ACCOUNT OF A CUSTOM 
 AMONG THE AMERICANS, ENTIT 
 LED WHITE- WASHING. 
 
 Attributed to the Pen of Dr. Franklin 
 
 ALTUOUGH the following article has not yet appear 
 td in any collection of the works of this great philo 
 eopher, we are inclined to receive the general opinion, 
 (from the plainness of the style, and the humour 
 which characterizes it) to bo the performance of Dr., 
 Franklin. 
 
 My wish is to give you some account of the pso- 
 ple of these new States, but I am far from being qua 
 lified for the purpose, having as yet seen little more 
 than the cities of New York and Philadelphia. I 
 have discovered but few national singularities 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 Americans were from their infancy taught to look 
 up to the English as patterns of perfection in all things. 
 I have observed, however, one custom, which, ior 
 aught I know, is peculiar to this country; an ac 
 count of it will serve to fill up the remainder of thii 
 sheet, and may afford you some amusement. 1 
 
 When a young couple are about to enter into the 
 matrimonial state, a n^ver-failing article in the mar 
 riage treaty is, that the lady shall have and enjoy the 
 free and unmolested exercise of the rights of white 
 washing, with all its ceremonials, privileges and 
 appurtenances. A young woman would forego th 
 most advantageous connexion, and even disappoint 
 the warmest wish of her heart, rather than resign the 
 invaluable right You would wonder what this pri- 
 Tilege of white-washing is : I will endeavour to give 
 you some idea of the ceremony, as I have seen it 
 performed. 
 
 There is no season of the year in which the Ind* 
 way not claim her privilege, if she pleases ; bet Uie 
 
263 
 
 latter end of May is most generally fixed upon ivt tire 
 purpose. The attentive husband may judge by cer 
 tain prognostics when the storm is nigh at hand. 
 When the lady is imusuaJly fretful, finds faults with 
 the servants, is discontented with the children, and 
 complains much of the filthiness of every thing about 
 her, these are signs which ought not. to be neglected ; 
 yet they are not decisive, as they sometimes come oj 
 and go off again, without producing any farther ef 
 feet. But if, when the husband rises in the morn- 
 
 ng, he should observe in the yard a wheel-barrow 
 with a quantity of lime in it, or should see certain 
 buckets with lime dissolved in water, there is then 
 no time to be lost ; he immediately locks up the 
 apartment or closet where h>s 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 sea 
 son of female rage, his authority is superseded, his 
 commission is suspended, and the very scullion, who 
 cleans the brasses in the kitchen, becomes of more 
 consideration and importance than him. He has 
 nothing for it but to abdicate, and run from an evil 
 which he can neither prevent nor 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 crammed into the windows; chairs 
 arid tables, bedsteads and cradles, crowd the yard ; 
 end the garden-fence bends beneath the weight of 
 carpets, blankets, cloth cloaks, old coats, and ragged 
 breeches. Here may be seen the lumber of the kifc- 
 ehen, forming a dark and confused mass: for the 
 
 ore-ground of the picture, gridirons and frying pans, 
 rusty shovels and broken tongs, spits and piws, 
 and the fractured remains of rush-bottomed chairs. 
 There a closet has disgorged 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 rag-hole in 
 the garret to the rat-hole in the cellar, no place 
 
ASSAYS. 269 
 
 escapes un rummaged It would seem as if the day 
 of general doom was come, and the utensils of the 
 house were dragged forth to judgment. In this tem 
 pest the words of Lear naturally present themselves, 
 and might, with some alteration, be made strictly 
 applicable : 
 
 * Let the great gods. 
 
 That keep this dreadful pudder o er our heads, 
 Find out their en mins now. Tremble, thou 
 
 wretch, 
 
 That hast within thee, unrlivulged crimes 
 Unwhip d of justice " 
 
 " Close pent-up guilt, 
 
 Raise your concealing continent?, and ask 
 These dreadful summoners grace 1" 
 
 This ceremony completed, and the house tho 
 roughly evacuated, the next operation is to smear the 
 walls and ceilings of every room and closet with 
 brushes dipped in a solution of lime called white 
 wash to pour buckets of water over every four, and 
 scraton 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-nouse, at the risk of her neck, and with a 
 mug in her hand, and a bucket within reach, she 
 dashes away innumerable gallons of water against 
 the glass panes ; to the great annoyance of the pas 
 sengers in the street. 
 
 I have been told that an action at law was onca 
 brought against one of these water-nymphs by a per 
 son who had a new suit of clothes spoiled by thin 
 operation ; but after long argument, it was det^rmin 
 ed by the whole court, that the action would not lie, 
 inasmuch as the defendant was in the exercise of a 
 legal right, and riot answerable for the consequences ; 
 and so the poor gentleman was doubly non suited \ 
 
270 ESSAYS. 
 
 for he lost not only his suit of clothes, but his suit at 
 law. 
 
 These smearings and scratchings, washings and 
 dashings, being duly per/ormed, the next ceremonial 
 is to cleanse and replace the distracted furniture. 
 You may have seen a house raising, or a ship-launch, 
 when all the hands within reach are collected to 
 gether : recollect if you can the hurry, bustle, confu 
 sion, and noise of such a scene, and you will have 
 iome idea of this cleaning match. The misfortune 
 is, that the sole object is to make things clean ; it 
 matters not how many useful, ornamental, or valua 
 ble articles are mutilated, or suffer death under the 
 operation ; a mahogany chair and carved frame un 
 dergo 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 forcei 
 the corner of the table through the canvass 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 calcu 
 lation, founded on long experience, and has discover 
 ed, that the losses and destruction incident to two 
 white-washings are equal to one removal, and thre* 
 removals 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 effects. For two or three - 
 weeks after the operation the family are usually 
 afflicted with sore throats or sore eyes, occasioned 
 by the caustic quality of the lime, or with severe 
 
ESSAYS. 271 
 
 colds from the exhalations of wet floors or damp 
 walls. 
 
 I know a gentleman, who was fond of accounting 
 for every thing in a philosophical way He considers 
 this, which i have called a custom, a real periodical 
 disease, peculiar to the climate. His train of reason 
 ing is ingenuious and whimsical ; but I am not at 
 leisure to give you a detail. The result was, tnat he 
 found the distemper to be incurable ; but after much 
 tudy he conceived he had discovered a method (9 
 divert the evil he could not subdue. For this pur. 
 pose he caused a small building, about twelve feet 
 square, to be erected in his garden, and furnished 
 with some ordinary chairs and tables; and a few 
 prints of the cheapest sort were hung against the 
 walls. His hope was, that when tiie 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 to spend the vio 
 lence of the disease in this out-post, while he enjoyed 
 himself in qui&t at head-quarters. But the experi 
 ment did not answer his expectation ; it was impos 
 sible it should, since & principal part of the gratifica 
 tion consists in the lady having an uncontrolled right 
 to torment her husband at least once a year, and to 
 turn him out of doors, and take the reigns of govern 
 ment into her own hands. 
 
 There is a much better contrivance than this oi 
 the philosopher s; which is, to cover the walls of the 
 house with paper: this is generally done; and, 
 though it cannot abolish, it at least shortens the 
 period of female dominion. The paper is decorated 
 with flowers of various fancies, and made so orna- 
 ir.ental, that the women have admitted the fashion 
 without perceiving the design. 
 
 There is also another alleviation of the husband * 
 distress ; he generally has the privilege of a small 
 Kcom or closet for his books and papers, xhe key oJ 
 w.hich 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 ex 
 tremely caution, and ever on his guard; for should 
 
J7i ESSAYS. 
 
 he inadvertently go abroad an J leave the key fa \ii 
 door, the housemaid, who is always on the watch fcr 
 tsuch an opportunity, immediately enters in triumph 
 with buckets, brooms, and brushes: takes possession 
 of the premises, and forthwith puts all his hooks and 
 papers to rights to his utter confusion, and some 
 times serious detriment. For instance : 
 
 A gentleman was sued by the executors of a trades 
 man, on a charge found against him in the deceased* 
 books, to the amount of 30Z. The defendant wa 
 strongly impressed with an idea that he had discharg. 
 ed the debt and taken a receipt ; but as the trans 
 action 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 obtain* 
 ed against him. He then sat seriously down to ex 
 amine a large bundle of oid papers, which he had 
 untied and displayed ou a table for that pursose. In 
 the midst of his search, he was suddenly called away 
 on business of importance; he forgot to lock the 
 door of his room. The housemaid, who had been 
 long looking out for such an opportunity, immedi 
 ately entered with the usual irrplements, 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 unnoticed on the floor, which hap 
 pened 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- 
 nan had neglected to enter the credit in his book; 
 lie defendant 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 Philadelphia, and nearly allied to the former. I 
 mean that of washing the pavement before the doors 
 every Saturday evening. I at first took this to be a 
 
ESSAYS. 2?3 
 
 regulation of the police ; but, on further inquiry, 
 find it is a religious rite, preparatory to the sabbath ; 
 nnd is, I i relieve, the only religious rite in which ihe 
 numerous sectaries of this city perfectly agree. The 
 ceremony begins about sun-set, and continues tili 
 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 Philadelphia!! 
 h>rn, is so much accustomed to the danger, that h 
 
 voids it with surprising dexterity, it is from this 
 circumstance that a Philadelphia!! may be known 
 any 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 be 
 fore the doors, that the stones stand up sharp and 
 prominent, to the great inconvenience of those who 
 are not accustomed to so rough a path. But habit 
 reconciles every thing. It is diverting enough to see 
 a Philadelphia*! at New York ; he walks the streets 
 with as much painful caution, as if his toes were 
 covered with corns, or his feet lamed with the gout; 
 > nile a New Yorker, as little approving the plain 
 masonry of Philadelphia, shuffles along the pave 
 ment like a parrot on a mahogany table. 
 
 It must be acknowledged, that the ablutions I have 
 mentioned are attended with no small inconvenience; 
 but the women would not be induced, from any con 
 sideration, to resign their privilege. Notwithstand 
 ing this, I can give you the strongest assurances, 
 that the women of America make the most faithftil 
 wives and the most attentive mothers in the world ; 
 and I am sure you will join me in opinion, that if a 
 
 narried man is made miserable only one week in a 
 whole year, he will have no great causi to complain 
 of the matrimonial bond. 
 
 lam, &c. 
 
*74 ESSAYS. 
 
 ANSWER TO THE ABOVE. 
 In the Character of a Lady; but really by 
 
 TEE SAME HAND. 
 
 I HAVK lately see*/ a letter upon the sebject oi 
 whitewashing in which that necessary duty of & 
 good hoube-wife is treated with unmerited ridicule. 
 I should prcbabfy 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 flippant 
 performance quoted wherever a wife attempts to 
 exercise her reasonable prerogative, or execute the 
 duties of her station. Women generally employ their 
 time to better purposes than scribbling. The cares 
 and comforts of a family rest principally upon their 
 shoulders; hence it is that there are but few female 
 authors ; and the men, knowing how necessary our 
 attentions are to their happiness, take every opportu 
 nity of discouraging literary accomplishments in the 
 fair sex. You hear it echoed from every quarter. 
 
 My wife cannot make verses, it is true; but sha 
 nakes an exceMent pudding ; she can t correct tha 
 press, but she can correct her children, and scolds her 
 servants with admirable discretion : she can t unravel 
 the intricacies of political economy and federal go 
 vernment ; but she can knit charming stockings. 
 And this they call praising a wife, and doing jusliof 
 to her character, with much nonsense of the Lik* 
 kind. 
 
ESSAYS. 275 
 
 I say, women generally employ their time to much 
 better purposes than scribbling ; otherwise this face 
 tious writer had not gone so long unanswered. We 
 have ladies who sometimes lay down the needle, and 
 take up the pen ; I wonder none of them have at 
 tempted 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 f 
 be so complaisant? I say, they are naturally filthy k 
 creatures. If it were not that their co.^exion with 
 the refined sex polished their manners, and had a 
 happy influence on the general economy of life, these 
 lords of the creation would wallow in filth, and po 
 pulous cities would infect the atmosphere with their 
 noxious vapours. It is ihc attention ai.d assiduity 
 of the women that prevent men from degenerating 
 into mere swine. Ho\r important then are the ser 
 vices we render ; and yet for these very services we 
 are made the subject of ridicule and fun. Base in 
 gratitude Nauseous creatures ! Perhaps you may 
 think I am in a passion. No, Sir, I do assure you I 
 never was more composed in my life, and yet it is 
 enough to provoke a saint to see how unreasonably 
 we are treated by the men. Why now, there s my 
 husband a good-enough sort of a man in the main 
 but I will give you a sample of him. He comes into 
 the parlour the other the day, where, to be sure, I 
 was cutting up a piece of linen. * Lord !" says he, 
 ** what a flutter here is ! I can t bear to see the par 
 lour look like a tailor s shop : besides, I am going t 
 make some important philosophical experiments 
 and must have sufficient room." You must know 
 my husband is one of your would-be philosophers 
 VVell, I bundled up my linen as quick as 1 could, and 
 began to darn a pair of ruflles, which took no room, 
 and could give no offence. I thought, however, ( 
 would watch my lord and master s important busi 
 ness. In about half an hour the table was covered 
 with all manner of trumpery 5 bottles of water, phiaji 
 
276 ESSAYS 
 
 of drags, pasteboards, paper and cards, glue, paste, 
 and gum-arabic ; files, knives, scissors, needles, ro 
 sin, wax, silk, thread, rags, jags, tags, books, pamph 
 lets, 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 manoeuvres, yet 1 
 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 ca^ed the servants to clear every thing 
 away, I took a view of the scene my parlour exhibit 
 ed. 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 threo 
 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 
 a^y one operation. By the bye, tell your friend, the 
 white-wash scribbler, that this is one means by which 
 our closets become furnished with halves of china 
 bowls, cracked tumblers, broken wine-glasses, tops 
 of tea-pots, and stoppers of departed decanters. I 
 say, I took a view of the dirt and devastation my 
 philosophic husband had occasioned; and there I 
 sat, like Patience on a monument, smiling at grief; 
 but it worked inwardly. I woul * almost as soon the 
 melted rosin and vitriol had been in his throat, as on 
 my dear marble hearth, and my beautiful carpet 
 It is not true that women have no power over their 
 own feelings ; for notwithstanding this provocation, 
 I said nothing, or next to nothing : for 1 only observ 
 ed, very pleasantly, what a lady of my acquaintance 
 had told me that the reason why philosophers are 
 called literary men, is because they make a great 
 litter: not a word more : however, the servant clear 
 ed away, and down sat the philosopher. A friend 
 dropped in soon after" Your servant, Sir, how do 
 
ESSAYS. m 
 
 fou do ?" " O Lord I am almost fatigued to d*^ L . 
 I have been all the morning making philosophical 
 experiments." I was novy more hardly put to it to 
 smother a laugh, than I had been just before to con 
 tain my rage ; my precious went out soon after, and 
 I, as you may suppose, mustered ail my forces- 
 brushes, buckets, soap, sand, limeskins and cocoa- 
 nut shells, with all the powers of housewifery, were 
 immediately employed. I was certainly the best 
 philosopher of the two ; for my experiments succeed 
 ed, and his did not All was well again, excep* 
 my poor carpet my vitriolized carpet, which stifl 
 continued a mournful momento of philosophic fury, 
 or rather philosophic folly. The operation wart 
 scarce over, when in came my experimental philo 
 sopher, and told me, with all the indifference in th 
 world, that he had invited six gentlemen to dinu 
 with him at three o clock. Jt was then past one. 
 I complained of the short notice ; " Poh ! 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 n.ust the head of a philo 
 sopher be ! a leg of mutton, a loin ef veal and pota 
 toes ! I was at a loss whether I should laugh or be 
 angry ; but there was no time for determining : 1 
 had but an hour and a half to do a world of business 
 in. My carpet, which had suffered in the cause of 
 experimental philosophy in the morning, was des 
 tined to be more shamefully dishonoured in tho 
 afternoon by a deluge of nasty tobacco juice. 
 Gentlemen smokers love segars better than car 
 pets. Think, Sir, what a women must endure under 
 luch circumstances; and then, after all, to be re 
 proached with her cleanliness, and to have her 
 white-washings, her scourings, and scrubbings 
 made the subject of ridicule, it. is more than ^pa 
 tience can put up with. What I have now exhib 
 ited is but a small specimen of the injuries v e sus 
 tain from the boasted superiority of men. But 
 we will not be laughed out of our cleanliness. A 
 woman would rather be called any thih^ d 
 
278 ESSAYS. 
 
 as a man would ratfter 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. The 
 white-wash buckets 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 removed is one s husband. I am 
 ailed for again 
 
 Adieu. 
 
ESSAfS. *79 
 
 FINAL SPEECH OF DR. FRANKLIN IN THE 
 LATE FEDERAL CONVENTION.* 
 
 MR. PRESIDENT, 
 
 I CONFESS that I do not entirely approve of this 
 constitution at present ; but, Sir, I am not sure I 
 shall never approve it ; for having lived long, I 
 have experienced many instances of being obliged, 
 by better information, or fuller consideration, to 
 change opinions even on important subjects, which 
 I once thought right, but found to be otherwise. It 
 is, therefore, that the older I grow, the more apt I 
 am to doubt my own judgment, and to pay more 
 respect to the judgment of others. Most men, in 
 deed, as well as most sects in religion, think them 
 selves in possession of all truth, and that whenever 
 others differ from them, it is so far error. Steel, a 
 protestant, in a dedication tells the pope, that, " the 
 only difference between our two churches, in their 
 opinions of the certainty of their doctrines, is, tho 
 Romish church is infallible, and the church of 
 England never in the wrong." But, though many 
 private persons think almost as highly of their own 
 infallibility as that of their sect, few express it so 
 naturally as a certain Frtnch lady, who, in a little 
 dispute with her sister, said, " I don t know it 
 happens, sister, but I meet with nobody but myself 
 lhat is always in the righf." II n y a que mot qui a 
 tonjours raison. In these sentiments, Sir, I agree 
 to this constitution, with all its faults, if they are 
 
 * Our reasons for ascribing this speech to Dr. Franklin, are iu 
 fcteroal evidence, and iti baring appeared with hit name dVinf h4 
 lA-time uncoutradicted, in an American periodical publication. 
 
2SO ESSAYS. 
 
 such ; because I think a general government neces 
 sary for us, and there is no form of government but 
 what may be a blessing, if well administered ; and 
 I believe, farther, that this is likely to be well ad 
 ministered for a course of years, and can only end in 
 despotism, as other forms have done before it, when 
 the people shall become so corrupted as to need des 
 potic government, being incapable of any other. I 
 doubt too, whether any other convention we can ob 
 tain, may be able to make a better constitution : for 
 v/hen you assemble a number of men, to have tha 
 advantage of their joint wisdom, you inevitably as 
 semble with those men all their prejudices, their pas 
 sions, their errors of opinion, their local interests, 
 and their selfish views. From such an assembly can 
 a perfect production be expected? It therefore 
 astonishes me, Sir, to find this system approaching 
 so near to perfection as it does ; and I think it will 
 astonish our enemies, who are waiting with confi 
 dence, 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 cutting each other s throats. 
 
 Thus, I consent, Sir, to this constitution, because I 
 expect no better, and because I am not sure that this 
 is not the best. The opinions I have had of its errors 
 I sacrifice to the public good. I have never whisper 
 ed a syllable of them abroad. Within these walls 
 they were born, and here they shall die. If every 
 r one of us, in returning to our constituents, were to 
 report the objections he has had to it, and endravour 
 to gain partisans in support of them, we might pre 
 vent its being generally received, and thereby lose all 
 the salutary effects and great advantages resulting 
 naturally in our favour among foreign nations, as 
 well as among ourselves, from our real or apparent 
 unanimity. Much of the strength and efficiency of 
 any government, in procuring and securing happiness 
 to the people, depends on opinion ; on the general 
 opinion of the goodness of that government, as well 
 as of the wisdom and integrity of its governors. 
 
 I ho*pe, therefore, that for our own sakes, as a part 
 of the people, and for the sake of our posterity, we 
 
ESSAYS. 281 
 
 hall act heartily and unanimously in recommending 
 this constitution, wherever our influence may extend, 
 and turn our future thoughts and endeavours to the 
 means of having it well administered. 
 
 On the whole Sir, I cannot help expressing a wish, 
 that every member of the Convention, who may still 
 have objections, would with me, on this occasion, 
 ctoubt a little of his own infallibility, and, to maka 
 manifest our unanimity put his name to this instru 
 nent. 
 
 [The motion was then made for adding the las 
 formula, viz. 
 
 Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent, 
 &c. which was agreed to, and added accordingly. 
 
 PEEFERENCE OF BOWS AND ARROWS 
 IN WAR TO FIRE-ARMS. 
 
 TO MAJOR-GENERAL LEE. 
 
 Philadelphia, Feb. 11, 1776. 
 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 THE bearer, Mons. Arundel, is directed by the Con 
 flrcss to repair to General JSchuyler, in order to be 
 employed by him in the artillery service. He proposes 
 o wait on you in his way, and has requested me to 
 ntroduce him by a line to you. He has been ai 
 officer in the French service, as you will see by hi 
 commissions ; and, professing a good will to our 
 cause, I hope he may be useful in instructing our 
 gunners and matrosses: perhaps he may advise in 
 opening the nailed cannon. 
 
 I received the inclosed the other day from an offi 
 cer, Mr. Newland, who served in the two last wars, 
 and was known by General Gates, who spoke well ol 
 
182 ESSAYS. 
 
 him to me when I was at Cambridge. He is desir 
 dus now of entering into your service. I have ad 
 vised him to wait upon you at New York. 
 
 They still talk big in England, and threaten hard 
 but their language is somewhat civiller, at least nol 
 quite so disrespectful to us. By degrees they com* 
 to their senses, but too late, 1 fancy, for their in 
 terest 
 
 We have got a large quantity of saltpetre, on 
 hundred and twenty ton, and thirty more expected 
 Powder mills are now wanting ; I believe we mug 
 set to work and make it by hand. But I still wish, 
 with you, that pikes could be introduced, and 1 
 would add bows and arrows : these were good wea 
 pons, and not wisely laid aside. 
 
 1. Because a man may shoot as truly with a bow 
 as with a common musket. 
 
 2. He can discharge four arrows in the time ol 
 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 terri 
 fies 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 cne of our batile* 
 against the French in Edward the Third s reign, 
 l mentions the great confusion the enemy was thrown 
 into sagittarum nw6e, from the English; and con 
 clude?, * Est res pro fee to dictu mirabilis ut tantus ac 
 poteiis exercitus a solis fere Anglicis sagittariis victua 
 fuerit ; adeo Anglus est sagittipotens, et id genus ar 
 morum valet." If so much execution was done by 
 arrows when men wore some defensive armour, i>ow 
 much more might be done now that it is out of use ! 
 
 I am glad you are come to New Yark, 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 ex 
 pect none that we can accept ; and when that is ge 
 nerally seen, we shall be more unanimous and mora 
 
ESSAYS. 283 
 
 decisive: theft 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 J. do not 
 deserve your favours, being so bad a correspondent. 
 My eyes wiiJ now hardly serve me to write by night, 
 and these short days have been all taken up by such 
 variety of business that I seldom can sit down ten 
 ninutos without interruption, God give you success 1 
 
 I am, with the greatest esteem, 
 Yours affectionately, 
 
 B. FRANKLIN 
 
 Ol\ I dfi THEORY OF THE EARTH. 
 
 TO ABBE 80ULIAVE. 
 
 Passy, September 22, 1782. 
 
 SIR, 
 
 1 BETUUN the papers with some corrections. I dhi 
 not hnd coal mines, under the calcareous rock in 
 Derbyshire. 1 only remarked, that at the lowest 
 part of that rocky mountain, which was in sight, 
 there were oyster shells mixed with the tone;-and 
 part of the high country of Derby being probably at 
 iruch above the level of the sea, as the coal mines ol 
 YVhitehaven were below, it seemed a proof that there 
 had been a great bouieversement in the surface ol 
 that island, some part of it having been depressed un 
 der the sea, ard other parts, which had been under 
 it, being raised above it. Such changes in the super 
 ficial parts of the globe seemed to me unlikely to hap 
 pen, if the earth were solid at the centre. 
 
d4 ESSAYS. 
 
 * >re imagined that the internal parts might be a fluid 
 ruore dense, and of greater specific gravity than any 
 ( f the solids we are acquainted with ; which there 
 fore might swim in or upon that fluid. Thus the sur 
 liice of the globe would be a shell, capable of being 
 woken and disordered by the violent movements 
 )f fluid on which it rested. And, as air has been 
 compressed by art so as to be twice as dense as wa 
 ter, in which case, if such air and water could te 
 contained in a strong glass vessel, the air would ta 
 seen to take the lowest place, and the water to floa 
 above and upon it ; and, as we know not yet the de 
 gree of density to which air may be compressed, and 
 M. Amontons calculated, that, its density increasing 
 as it approached 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 occu 
 pying 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 aflord another agent to move the 
 surface, as well as be of use in keeping alive the cen~ 
 tral fires ; though, as you observe, the sudden rare 
 faction of water, coming into contact with those fires, 
 may be an agent sufficiently strong for that purpose, 
 when acting between the incumbent 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 ori 
 ginally mixed in confusion, and occupying a great 
 space, they would as soon (as soon as the Almighty 
 fiat ordained gravity, or the mutual attraction of CCF- 
 ain parts, and the mutual repulsion of other parts, to 
 xist) all move towards their common centre : tha 
 the air being a fluid whose parts repel each other 
 though drawn to the common centre by their gravity, 
 would be densest towards the centre, and rarer as 
 more remote ; consequently, all bodies, lighter than 
 the central parts of that air, and immersed in it, would 
 recede from the centre, an ,\ 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 
 
ESSAYS. 283 
 
 other matter mixed with the lighter air, would descend, 
 and the two, meeting, would form the shell of the first 
 earth, leaving the upper atmosphere nearly clear. 
 The original movement of the parts towards their 
 common centre would form a whirl there; which 
 would continue in the turning of the new-formed globe 
 upon its axis, and the greatest diameter of the shell 
 would be in its equator. If by any accident after 
 wards the xis should be changed, the dense internal 
 fluid, by altering its form, must burst the shell, and 
 throw all <it substance into the confusion in which w 
 find it. A will not trouble you at present with my 
 fancies cc&cerning the manner of forming the rest of 
 our system. Superior beings smile on our theories, 
 and at our presumption in making them. I will just 
 mention that your observation of the ferruginous na 
 ture 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 con 
 tained in the substance of the globe has made.it capa 
 ble 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 uni 
 verse, as well as of this globe; and thai if it were 
 possible for a man to fly from star to stir, he might 
 govern his course by the compass; that it was by the 
 I>ower of this general magnetism this globe be, ame a 
 particular magnet. In soft or hot iron ih* fluid of 
 magnetism is naturally diffused equally ; whtn with 
 in the influence of a magnet, it is drawn to OiW end of 
 the iron, 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 tha 
 situation, it becomes a permanent one, the magnetic 
 fluid not easily resuming its equilibrium. Perhap 
 it may be owing to the permanent magnetism of thii 
 globe, which it had not at first, that its axis is at pr 
 sent kept parallel to itself, and notliable to the changei 
 it formerly suffered, which occasioned the rupture o< 
 its shell, the submersions and emersions of its lands 
 and the confusion of its seasons. The present polai 
 and equatorial diameters differing from each othei 
 near ten leagues, it is easy to conceive, in case somi 
 
286 ESSAYS. 
 
 power should shift the axis gradually, and place U in 
 the present equator, and make the new equator pass 
 through the present poles, what a sinking of the wa 
 ters would happen in the present equatorial regions, 
 and what a rising in the present polar regions ; so that 
 vast tracts would be discovered that now are under 
 water, and others covered that now are dry, the water 
 rising and sinking in the differet extremes near live 
 leagues ! Such an operation as this po?sibjy occasion 
 ed much of Europe, and, among the rest, of thii 
 mountain of Passy, on which I live, and which is 
 composed of limestone, rock and sea shells, to be 
 abandoned by the sea, and to change its ancient cli 
 mate, which seems to have been a hot one. The globe 
 being now become a perfect magnet, we are perhaps 
 sale from any future change of its axis. But we are 
 still subject to the accidents on the surface, which 
 are occasioned by a wave in the internal ponderous 
 fluid : and. such a wave is produced by the sudden 
 violent explosion you mention, happening from the 
 junction of water and fire under the earth, which not 
 only lifts the incumbent earth that is over the explo 
 sion, but, impressing with the same force the fluid 
 under it, creates a wave that may run a thousand 
 leagues, lifting, and thereby shaking successively, all 
 the countries under which it passes. I know not 
 whether I have expressed myself so clearly, as not 
 to get out of your sight in these reveries. If they 
 occasion any new inquiries, and produce a better 
 * hypothesif, they will not be quite useless. You set 
 I nave given a loose to imagination, but I approve 
 much more your method of philosophising, which 
 proceeds upon actual observation, makes a collectioi 
 of facts, and concludes no farther than those facts wil 
 warrant. In my present circumstances, that mod 
 of studying the nature of the globe is out of my power 
 and therefore I have permitted myself to wander 
 little in the wilds of fancy. With great esteem, ) 
 bare the honour to be, 
 
 Sir, &c. 
 
 15. FJUNKLIN 
 
ESSAYS. 287 
 
 P. S. I have heard that chemists can by their 
 art decompose stone and wood, extracting a conside 
 rable quantity of water from the one, and air from 
 the other. It seems natural to conclude from this, 
 that water and air were ingredients in their original 
 composition : for men cannot make new matter of 
 any kind. In the same manner do we not suppose, 
 that when w consume combustibles of all kinds, 
 and produce heat or light, we do not .create the hea 
 cr light, we only decompose a substance which re 
 ceived it originally as a part of its composition. 
 Heat may thus be considered as originally in a flui 
 state ; but, attracted by organized bodies in their 
 growth, becomes a part of the solid. Besides this, 
 I can conceive that, in the first assemblage of the 
 particks of this earth is composed, each brought its 
 portior of the loose heat that had been connected 
 with i and the whole, when pressed together, pro 
 duced me internal fire which still subsists. 
 
 LOOSE THOUGHTS ON THE UNIVER 
 SAL FLUID, &c. 
 
 Passy, June 25, 1784. 
 
 UNIYERSAL space, as for as we know of it, seems t 
 be filled with a subtle fluid, whose motion, or vibra. 
 ion, is called light. 
 
 This fluid may possibly be the same with that 
 which, being attracted by and entering into other 
 more solid matter, dilates (he substance, by sepa 
 rating the constituent particles, and so rendering 
 ome solids fluid, and maintaining the fluidity of 
 
88 ttSSAYS 
 
 others : of which fluid when our bodies are totally 
 deprived, they are said to be frozen ; when they 
 have a proper quantity, they are in health, and fit 
 to perform all their functions \ it is then called natu 
 ral 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 des 
 troying the flesh, and is then called burning ; and th 
 fluid so entering and acting is called fire. 
 
 While organized bodies, animal or vegetable, ar 
 augmenting in growth, or are supplying their con 
 tinual waste, is not this done by attracting and con 
 golidating this fluid called fire, so as to form of it a 
 part of their substance? and it is not a separation of 
 the parts of such substance, which, dissolving its 
 solid state, sets that subtle fluid at liberty, when it 
 again makes its appearance as fire ? 
 
 For the power of a man relative to matter seems 
 limited to the dividing it, or mixing the various kindi 
 of it, or changing its form and appearance by differ 
 ing compositions of it; but does not extend to thi 
 making or creating of new matter, or annihilating 
 the old : thus, if fire be an original element, or kind 
 of matter, its quantity is fixed and permanent in th< 
 world. We cannot destroy any part of it, or makt 
 addition to it; we can only separate it from that 
 which confines 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 another, as when we make lime by 
 burning stone, a part of the fire dislodged from the 
 wood being left in the stone. May not this fluid, 
 when at liberty, be capable of penetrating and enter 
 ing into all bodies, organized or not ; quitting easilj 
 n totally those not organized ; and quitting easily it 
 art those which are ; the part assumed and fixe<- 
 remaining till the body is dissolved ? 
 
 Is it not this fluid which keeps asunder the parti 
 cles of air, permitting them to approach, or separat* 
 mg them more, in proportion as its quantity is dimin 
 ished or augmented ? Is it not the greater gravity of 
 the^ particles of air, which forces the particles of 
 
ESSAYS. 289 
 
 this fluid to mount with the matters to which it is 
 attached, as smoke or vapour? 
 
 Does it not seem to have a great effinity with 
 water, since it will quit a solid to unite with that 
 fluid, and go off with it in vapour, leaving the solid 
 cold to the touch, and the degree measurable by the 
 thermometer ? 
 
 The vapour rises attached to this fluid ; but at 
 a certain height they separate, and the vapour de 
 cends in rain, retaining but little of it, in snow or 
 hail less. What becomes of that fluid? Does it riso 
 above our atmosphere, and mix equally with tho 
 universal mass of the same kind ? Or does a spheri 
 cal stratum of it, denser, or less mixed with air, at 
 tracted by this globe, and repelled 01 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 com 
 munication of this fluid through the air quite down to 
 Ihe earth, is ii not by the vibrations given to it by the 
 *un that light appears to us ; and may it not be. that 
 every one of the infinitely small vibrations, striking 
 common matter with a certain force,enter its substance, 
 %re held there by attraction, and augmented by suc 
 ceeding vibrations, till the matter has received as 
 much as their force can drive into it ? 
 
 Is it not thus that the surface of this globe is con 
 tinually heated by such repeated vibrations in the 
 day, and cooled by the escape of that heat when 
 those vibrations are discontinued in the night, or in 
 tercepted and reflected bv 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, and it* 
 original particles took their place at certain distances 
 from the centre, in proportion to their greater or les i 
 gravity, fhe fluid lire, attracted towards that ceMre, 
 might in great part be obliged, as lightest, to taka 
 place above the rest, and thus form the sphere ol firtl 
 above supposed, which would afterwards be coniimi* 
 ally diminishing by the substance it afforded to organ 
 
f90 ESSAYS. 
 
 ized bodies; and the quantity restored Jo it again by 
 ihe burning or other separating of the parts of those 
 todies. 
 
 Is not the natural heat of auimals thus produced, 
 by separating in digestion the parts of food, and set 
 ting their fire at liberty ? 
 
 Is it not thlr sphere of fire which kindles the waa 
 tiering globes that sometimes pass through it in ow 
 Bourse round the sun, have their surface kindled by 
 t, and burst when their included air is greatly rari 
 fed by the heat on tho burning surfaces ? 
 

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