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Dr: BENJAMIN FRANKLIN.
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THE Works of the late Dr. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN Consisting of HIS LIFE Written by himself Together with ESSAYS Humorous, Moral, & Literary, chiefly in the manner of the Spectator.

NEW-YORK Printed by Tiebout & Obrian for H. Guin, [...] Nutter, R. McGill, J. Allen, J. Read, E. Duyckinck & Co. and Edward Mitchell No:9. Maiden Lane.

Engraved by P. R. Mavorick. 65 Liberty Street.

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PREFACE.

THE volumes that are here presented to the Pub­lic, consist of two parts: the Life of Dr. Franklin; and a Collection of Miscellaneous Essays, the work of that Author.

It is already known to many, that Dr. Franklin a­mused himself, towards the close of his life, with wri­ting memoirs of his own history. These memoirs were brought down to the year 1757. Together with some other manuscripts they were left behind him at his death, and were considered as constituting a part of his posthumous property. It is a little ex­traordinary that, under these circumstances, interes­ting as they are, from the celebrity of the character of which they treat, and from the critical situation of the present times, they should so long have been with-held from the Public. A translation of them appeared in France near two years ago, coming down to the year 1731. There can be no sufficient reason, that what has thus been submitted to the perusal of Europe, should not be made accessible to those to whom Dr. Franklin's language is native. The first part of the history of his life is translated from that publication.

The style of these memoirs is uncommonly pleasing. The story is told with the most unreserved sincerity, and without any false colouring or ornament. We see, in every page, that the author examined his sub­ject with the eye of a master, and related no incidents, the springs and origin of which he did not perfectly [Page 6] understand. It is this that gives such exquisite and uncommon perspicuity to the detail and delight in the review. The translator has endeavoured, as he went along, to conceive the probable manner in which Dr. Franklin expressed his ideas in his English manuscript, and he hopes to be forgiven if this enquiry shall oc­casionally have subjected him to the charge of a style in any respect bald or low: to imitate the admirable simplicity of the author, is no easy task.

The Essays, which are now, for the first time, brought together from various resources, will be found to be more miscellaneous than any of Dr. Franklin's that have formerly been collected, and will therefore be more generally amusing. Dr. Franklin tells us, in his Life that he was an assiduous imitator of Addison; and from some of these papers it will be admitted that he was not an unhappy one. The public will be amused with following a great philosopher in his re­laxations, and observing in what respects philosophy tends to elucidate and improve the most common sub­jects. The editor has purposely avoided such papers as, by their scientifical nature, were less adapted for general perusal. These he may probably hereafter publish in a volume by themselves.

He subjoins a letter from the late celebrated and a­miable Dr. Price, to a gentleman in Philadelphia, up­on the subject of Dr. Franklin's memoirs of his own life.

DEAR SIR,

I am hardly able to tell you how kindly I take the letters with which you favour me. Your last, containing an account of the death of our excellent [Page 7] friend Dr. Franklin, and the circumstances attending it, deserves my particular gratitude. The account which he has left of his life will show, in a striking ex­ample, how a man, by talents, industry, and integrity, may rise from obscurity to the first eminence and con­sequence in the world; but it brings his history no lower than the year 1757, and I understand that since he sent over the copy, which I have read, he has been able to make no additions to it. It is with a melan­choly regret I think of his death; but to death we are all bound by the irreversible order of nature, and in looking forward to it, there is comfort in being able to reflect.—that we have not lived in vain, and that all the useful and virtuous shall meet in a better country beyond the grave.

Dr. Franklin, in the last letter I received from him, after mentioning his age and infirmities, ob­serves, that it has been kindly ordered by the Author of nature, that, as we draw nearer the conclusion of life, we are furnished with more helps to wean us from it, among which one of the strongest is the loss of dear friends. I was delighted with the account you gave in your letter of the honour shewn to his me­mory at Philadelphia, and by Congress; and yester­day I received a high additional pleasure, by being in­formed that the National Assembly of France had determined to go in mourning for him.—What a glorious scene is opened there! The an [...]ls of the world furnish no parallel to it. One of the honours of our departed friend is, that he has contributed much to it.

I am, with great respect, Your obliged and very humble servant, RICHARD PRICE.
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LIFE OF DOCTOR BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, &c.

MY DEAR SON,

I HAVE amused myself with collecting some lit­tle anecdotes of my family. You may remember the enquiries I made, when you were with me in England, among such of my relations as were then living; and the journey I undertook for that pur­pose. To be acquainted with the particulars of my parentage and life, many of which are unknown to you, I flatter myself, will afford the same plea­sure to you as to me. I shall relate them upon pa­per: it will be an agreeable employment of a week's uninterrupted leisure, which I promise myself du­ring my present retirement in the country. There are also other motives which induce me to the un­dertaking. From the bosom of poverty and obscu­rity, in which I drew my first breath and spent my earliest years, I have raised myself to a state of opu­lence and to some degree of celebrity in the world. A constant good fortune has attended me through [Page 10] every period of life to my present advanced age; and my descendants may be desirous 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 similar situation, derive some advantage from my narrative.

When I reflect, as I frequently do, upon the fe­licity I have enjoyed, I sometimes say to myself, that, were the offer made me, I would engage to run again, from beginning to end, the same career of life. All I would ask should be the privilege of an author, to correct, in a second edition, certain errors of the first. I could wish, likewise, if it were in my power, to change some trivial incidents and events for others more favourable. Were this however denied me, still would I not decline the offer. But since a repetition of life cannot take place, there is nothing which, in my opinion, so nearly resembles it, as to call to mind all its cir­cumstances, and to render their remembrance more durable, commit them to writing. By thus employing myself, I shall yield to the inclination, so natural to old men, to talk of themselves and their exploits, and may freely follow my bent, without being tiresome to those, who, from respect to my age, might think themselves obliged to listen to me; as they will be at liberty to read me or not, as they please. In fine, (and I may well avow it, since nobody would believe me were I to deny it,) I shall perhaps, by this employment gratify my vanity. Scarcely indeed have I ever heard or read the introductory phrase, "I may say without vani­ty," but some striking and characteristic instance [Page 11] of vanity has immediately followed. The generali­ty of men hate vanity in others, however strongly they may be tinctured with it themselves; for my­self, I pay obeisance to it wherever 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 to providence for the blessing.

And here let me with all humility acknowledge, that to divine providence I am indebted for the feli­city I have 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 exercised towards me, either by pro­longing the duration of my happiness to the close of life, or by giving me fortitude to support any melancholy reverse, which may happen to me, as to so many others. My future fortune is unknown but to him in whose hand is our destiny, and who can make our very afflictions subservient to our benefit.

One of my uncles, desirous, like myself, of col­lecting anecdotes of our family, gave me some notes, from which I have derived many particulars re­specting our ancestors. From these I learn, that they had lived in the same village (Eaton in North­amptonshire) upon a freehold of about thirty acres, for the space at least of three hundred years. How long they had resided there prior to that period, my uncle had been unable to discover; probably [Page 12] ever since the institution of surnames, when they took the appellation of Franklin; which had formerly been the name of a particular order of indi­viduals*.

This pretty estate would not have sufficed for their subsistence, had they not added the trade of black­smith, which was perpetuated in the family down to my uncles time, the eldest son having been uni­formerly [Page 13] brought up to this employment: a custom which both he and my father observed with respect to their eldest sons.

In the researches I made at Eaton, I found no account of their births, marriages, and deaths, ear­lier than in 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 of the family, counting five generations. My grandfather, Thomas, who was born in 1598, living at Eaton till he was too old to continue his trade, when he retired to Banbury in Oxfordshire, where his son John, who was a dyer, resided, and with whom my father was ap­prenticed. He died, and was buried there: we saw his monument in 1758. His eldest son lived in the family house at Eaton, which he bequeath­ed, with the land belonging to it, to his only daugh­ter; who, in concert with her husband, Mr. Fisher of Wellingborough, afterwards sold it to Mr. Est­ed, the present proprietor.

My grandfather had four surviving sons, Thomas John, Benjamin, and Josias. I shall give you such particulars of them as my memory will furnish, not having my papers here, in which you will find a more minute account, if they are not lost during my absence.

Thomas had learned the trade of blacksmith under his father; but possessing a good natural un­derstanding, he improved it by study, at the solici­tation of a gentleman of the name of Palmer, who was at that time the principal inhabitant of the vil­lage, and who encouraged in like manner all my uncles to improve their minds. Thomas thus ren­dered himself competent to the functions of a coun­try [Page 14] attorney; soon became an essential personage in the affairs of the village; and was one of the chief movers of every public enterprize, as well re­lative to the county as the town of Northampton. A variety of remarkable incidents were told us of him at Eaton. After enjoying the esteem and pa­tronage of Lord Halifax, he died, January 6, 1702, precisely four years before I was born. The re­cital that was made us of his life and character, by some aged persons of the village, struck you, I remember, as extraordinary, from its analogy to what you knew of myself, "Had he died," said you, "just four years later, one might have suppos­ed a transmigration of souls."

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

Benjamin served his apprenticeship in London to a silk-dyer. He was an industrious man; I re­member him well; for, while I was a child, he joined my father at Boston, and lived for some years in the house with us. A particular affection had always subsisted between my father and him and I was his godson: He arrived to a great age. He left behind him two quarto volumes of poems in manuscript, consisting of little fugitive pieces addressed to his friends. He had invented a short­hand, which he taught me, but having never made use of it, I have now forgotten it. He was a man of piety, and a constant 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 fond of poli­tics too much so perhaps for his situation. I lately found in London a collection which he had made [Page 15] of all the principal pamphlets relative to public af­fairs, from the year 1641 to 1717. Many volumes are wanting, as appears by the series of numbers; but there still remain eight in folio, and twenty four in quarto and octavo. The collection had fallen into the hands of a second-hand bookseller, who, knowing me by having sold me some books, brought it to me. My uncle, it seems, had left it behind him on his departure for America, about fifty years ago. I found various notes of his writing in the margins. His grandson, Samuel, is now living at Boston.

Our humble family had early embraced the Re­formation. They remained faithfully attached du­ring the reign of QUEEN MARY, when they were in danger of being molested on account of their zeal against Popery. They had an English Bible, and, to conceal it the more securely, they conceived the project of fastening it, open, with pack-threads a­cross the leaves, on the inside of the lid of a close-stool. When my great-grandfather wished to read to his family, he reversed the lid of the close-stool upon his knees, and passed the leaves from one side to the other, which were held down on each by the pack-thread. One of the children was stationed at the door to give notice if he saw the proctor (an offi­cer of the spiritual court) make his appearance: in that case, the lid was restored to its place with the Bible concealed under it as before. I had this anec­dote from my uncle Benjamin.

The whole family preserved its attachment to the Church of England till towards the close of the reign of Charles II. when certain ministers, who had been ejected as non-conformists, having held Conventicles in Northamptonshire, they were join­ed [Page 16] by Benjamin and Josias, who adheared 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. Conventicles 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 of 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. I remember to have seen thirteen seated together at his table, who all arrived to years of maturity, and were married. I was the last of the sons, and the youngest child, excepting two daughters. I was born at Boston in New Eng­land. My mother, the second wife, was Abiah Folger, daughter of Peter Folger, one of the first colonists of New England, of whom Cotton Ma­ther makes honourable mention, in his Ecclesiasti­cal History of that province, as a pious and learn­ed Englishman, if I rightly recollect his expres­sions. I have been told of his having written a variety of little pieces; but there appears to be on­ly one in print, which I met with many years ago. It was published in the year 1675, and is in fami­liar verse, agreeably to the taste of the times and the country. The author addresses himself to the governors for the time being, speaks for liberty of conscience, and in favour of the anabaptists, qua­kers, and other sectaries, who had suffered perse­cution. To this persecution he attributes the wars with the natives, and other calamities which afflict­ed [Page 17] the country, regarding them as the judgments of God in punishment of so odious an offence, and he exhorts the government to the repeal of laws so contrary to charity. The poem appeared to be written with a manly freedom and a pleasing sim­plicity. I recollect the six concluding lines, though I have forgotten the order of words of the two first; 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, I hate from my very soul dissimulation:

From Sherburne,* where I dwell,
I therefore put my name,
Your friend, who means you well.
PETER FOLGER.

My brothers were all put apprentice 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 the family. The promptitude with which from my infancy I had learned to read, for I do not remember to have been ever without this acquirement, and the en­couragement of his friends, who assured him that I should one day certainly become 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 sermons, written, as I have said, in the short-hand of his invention if I would take the pains to learn it.

I remained however scarcely a year at grammar school, although, in this short interval, I had ri­sen from the middle to the head of my class, from [Page 18] thence to the class immediately above, and was to pass, at the end of the year, to the one next in or­der. But my father, burthened with a numerous family, found that he was incapable, without sub­jecting himself to difficulties, of providing for the expence of a collegiate education, and considering besides, as I heard him say to his friends, that per­sons so educated were often poorly provided for, he renounced his first intentions, took me from the grammar school, and sent me to a school for writing and arithmetic, kept by a Mr. George Brownwel, 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 in arithmetic, and made therein no sort of progress.

At ten years of age I was called home to assist my father in his occupation, which was that of soap-boiler and tallow-chandler; a business to which he had served no apprenticeship, but which he embraced on his arrival in New England, be­cause he found his own, that of a dyer, in too lit­tle request to enable him to maintain his family. I was accordingly employed in 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, however, gave me frequent opportunities of venturing my­self both upon and within it, and I soon acquired the art of swimming, and of managing a boat.—When embarked with other children, the helm [Page 19] was commonly deputed to me, particularly on dif­ficult occasions; and, in every other project, I was almost always the leader of the troop, whom I sometimes involved in embarrassments. I shall give an instance of this, which demonstrates an early disposition of mind for public enterprises, though the one in question was not conducted by justice.

The mill-pond was terminated on one side by a marsh, upon the borders of which we were accus­tomed to take our stand, at high water, to angle for small fish. By dint of walking, we had con­verted the place into a perfect quagmire. My pro­posal was to erect a wharf that should afford us firm footing; and I pointed out to my companions a large heap of stones, intended for the building a new house near the marsh, and which were well adapted for our purpose. Accordingly, when the workmen retired in the evening, I assembled a number of my playfellows, and by labouring dili­gently, like ants, sometimes four of us uniting our strength to carry a single stone, we removed them all, and constructed our little quay. The work­men were surprised the next morning at not find­ing their stones, which had been conveyed to our wharf. Enquiries were made respecting the au­thors of this conveyance; we were discovered; complaints were exhibited against us; many of us underwent correction on the part of our parents; and though I strenuously defended the utility of the work, my father at length convinced me, that nothing which was not strictly honest could be useful.

It will not, perhaps, be uninteresting to you to know what sort of a man my father was. He had [Page 20] an excellent constitution, was of a middle size, but well made and strong, and extremely active in whatever he undertook. He designed with a de­gree of neatness, and knew a little of music. His voice was sonorious and agreeable; so that when he sung a psalm or hymn with 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 understanding and solid judgment in matters of prudence, both in public and private life. In the former indeed he never engaged, because his numerous family and the mediocrity of his fortune, kept him un­remittingly employed in the duties of his professi­on. But I very well remember that the leading men of the place used frequently to come and ask his advice respecting affairs of the town, or of the church to which he belonged, and that they paid much deference to his opinion. Individuals were also in the habit of consulting him in their private affairs, and he was often chosen arbiter between con­tending parties.

He was fond of having at his table, as often as possible, some friends or well informed neighbours capable of rational conversation, and he was al­ways careful to introduce useful or ingenious to­pics of discourse, which might tend to form the minds of his children. By this means he early attracted our attention to what was just, prudent, and beneficial in the conduct of life. He never talked of the meats which appeared upon the ta­ble, never discussed whether they were well or ill [Page 21] dressed, of good or bad flavour, high-seasoned or otherwise, preferable or inferior to this or that dish of a similiar kind. Thus accustomed, from my in­fancy, to the utmost inattention as to these ob­jects, I have always been perfectly regardless of what kind of food was before me; and I pay so little attention to it even now, that it would be a hard matter for me to recollect, a few hours after I had dined, of what my dinner had consisted. When travelling, I have particularly experienced the advantage of this habit; for it has often hap­pened to me to be in company with persons, who, having a more delicate, because a more exercised taste, have suffered in many cases considerable in­convenience; 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 I never heard either her or my father complain of any other disorder than that of which they died: my father at the age of eighty-seven, and mother at eighty-five. They are buried to­gether at Boston where, a few years ago, I placed a marble over their grave, with this inscription:

Here lie JOSIAS FRANKLIN and ABIAH his wife: They lived together with reciprocal affection for fifty-nine years; and without private fortune, with­out lucrative employment, by assiduous labour and honest industry, decently supported a nu­merous family, and educated with success, thir­teen children, and seven grand children. Let this example, reader, encourage thee diligently to discharge the duties of thy calling, and to re­ly on the support of divine providence.

[Page 22] He was pious and prudent, She discreet and virtuous. Their youngest son, from a sentiment of filial duty, consecrates this stone To their memory.

I perceive, by my rambling digressions, that I am growing old. But we do not dress for a private company as for a formal ball. This deserves per­haps the name of negligence.

To return. I thus continued employed in my father's trade for the space of two years; that is to say, till I arrived at twelve years of age. About this time my brother John, who had served his ap­prenticeship in London, having quitted my father, and being married and settled in business on his own account at Rhode-Island, I was destined, to all appearance, to supply his place, and be a can­dle-maker all my life: but my dislike of this occu­pation continuing, my father was apprehensive, that, if a more agreeable one were not offered me I might play the truant and escape to sea; as, to his extreme mortification, my brother Josias had done. He 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 pleasure from seeing skil­ful workmen handle their tools; and it has proved of considerable benefit, to have acquired [...] sufficient knowledge to be able to make little things for myself when I have had no mechanic at hand, and to construct small machines for my experi­ments, while the idea I have conceived has been [Page 23] fresh and strongly impressed on my imagination.

My father at length decided that I should be a cutler, and I was placed for some days upon trial with my cousin Samuel, son of my uncle Benja­min, who had learned this trade in London, and had established himself at Boston. But the pre­mium he required for my apprenticeship displeasing my father, I was recalled home.

From my earliest years I had been passionately fond of reading, and I laid out in books all the lit­tle money I could procure. I was particularly pleased with accounts of voyages. My first ac­quisition was Bunyan's collection in small separate volumes. These I afterwards sold in order to buy an historical collection by R. Burton, which con­sisted of small cheap volumes, amounting in all to about forty or fifty. My father's little library was principally made up of books of practical and polemical theology. I read the greatest part of them. I have since often regretted, that at a time when I had so great a thirst for knowledge, more eligible books had not fallen into my hands, as it was then a point de [...]d that I should not be edu­cated for the church. There was also among my father's books Plutarch's Lives, in which I read continually, and I still regard as advantageously employed 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 father to make me a printer, though he had alrea­dy a son in that profession. My brother had re­turned from England in 1717, with a press and [Page 24] types, in order to establish a printing-house at Bos­ton. This business pleased me much better than that of my father, though I had still a predilection for the sea. To prevent the effects which might result from this inclination, my father was impatient to see me engaged with my brother. I held back for some time; at length 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 apprentice to the age of twenty-one, and should receive journeyman's wages only during the last year.

In a very short time I made great proficiency in this business, and became very serviceable to my brother. I had now an opportunity of procuring better books. The acquaintance I necessarily formed with booksellers' apprentices, enabled me to borrow a volume now and then, which I never failed to return punctually and without injury. How often has it happened to me to pass the great­er part of the night in reading by my bed-side, when the book had been lent me in the evening, and was to be returned the next morning, lest it might, be missed or wanted.

At length, Mr. Matthew Adams, an ingenious tradesman, who had a handsome collection of books, and who frequented our printing-house, took notice of me. He invited me to see his library, and had the goodness to lend me any books I was desirous of reading. I then took a strange fancy for poetry, and composed several little 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 Tragedy, contained an ac­count of the shipwreck of captain Worth [...]lake and [Page 25] his two daughters; the other was a sailor's song on the capture of the noted pirate called Teach, or Black-beard. They were wretched verses in point of style, mere blind-men's ditties. When print­ed, he dispatched me about the town to sell them. The first had a prodigious run, because the event was recent, and had made a great noise.

My vanity was flattered by this success; but my father checked my exultation, by ridiculing my productions, and telling me that versifiers were al­ways poor. I thus escaped the misfortune of being, probably a very wretched poet. But as the faculty of writing prose has been of great service to me in the course of my life, and principally contributed to my advancement, I shall relate by what means, situated as I was, I acquired the small skill I may possess in that way.

There was in the town another young man, a great lover of books, of the name of John Collins, with whom I was intimately connected. We fre­quently engaged in dispute, and were indeed so fond of argumentation, that nothing was so agreea­ble to us as a war of words. This contentious temper, I would observe by the bye, is in danger of becoming a very bad habit, and frequently ren­ders a man's company insupportable, as being no otherwise capable of indulgence than by indiscri­minate contradiction. Independently of the acri­mony and discord it introduces into conversation, it is often productive of dislike, and even hatred, between persons to whom friendship is indispensi­bly necessary. I acquired it by reading, while I lived with my father, books of religious controver­sy. I have since remarked, that men of sense sel­dom fall into this error; lawyers, fellows of univer­sities, [Page 26] and persons of every profession educated at Edinburgh, excepted.

Collins and I fell one day into an argument rela­tive to the education of women; namely, whether it were 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 opposite opinion, a little perhaps for the pleasure of disputing. 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 seperated without coming to an agreement up­on this point: and as we were not to see each other again for some time, I committed my thoughts to paper, made a fair copy, and sent it 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 my adversary in correct spelling and pointing, which I owed to my occupation, I 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 remarks, became more attentive to language, and resolved to make every effort to improve my style. Amidst these resolves an odd volume of the Spectator fell into my hands. This was a publica­tion I had never seen. I bought the volume, and read it again and again. I was enchanted with it, thought the style excellent, and wished it were in [Page 27] my power to imitate it. With this view I selected some of the papers, made short summaries of the sense of each period, and put them for a few days aside. I then, without looking at the book endea­voured to restore the essays to their true form, and to express each thought at length, as it was in the original, employing the most appropriate words that occurred to my mind. I afterwards compared my Spectator with the original; I perceived some faults, which I corrected: but I found that I wanted a fund of words, if I may so express myself, and a fa­cility of recollecting and employing them, which I thought I should by that time have acquired, had I continued to make verses. The continual need of words of the same meaning, but of different lengths for the measure, or of different sounds for the rhyme, would have obliged me to seek for a variety of synonymes, and have rendered me mas­ter of them. From this belief, I took some of the tales of the Spectator, and turned them into verse; and after a time, when I had sufficiently forgotten them, I again converted them into prose.

Sometimes also I mingled all my summaries toge­ther; and a few weeks after, endeavoured to ar­range them in the best order, before I 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 performance with the original, many faults were apparent, which I corrected; but I had sometimes the satisfaction to think, that, in certain particulars of little importance, I had been fortu­nate enough to improve the order of thought or the style; and this encouraged me to hope that I should succeed, in time, in writing the English lan­guage, [Page 28] 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 father, he had insisted on my punctual attendance on public worship, and I still indeed considered it as a duty, but a duty which I thought I had no time to practise.

When about sixteen years of age, a work of Try­on fell into my hands, in which he recommends vegetable diet. I determined to observe it. My brother, being 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 make hasty puddings. I then said to my brother, that if he would allow me per week half what he paid for my board, I would undertake to maintain myself. The offer was in­stantly 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 dispatching 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 glass of water, I had the rest of the time, till their return, for study; and my progress therein was propor­tioned to that clearness of ideas, and quickness of [Page 29] conception, which are the fruit of temperance in eat­ing and drinking.

It was about this period, that, having one day been put to the blush for my ignorance in the art of calculation, which I had twice failed to learn while at school, I took Cocker's Treatise of Arithmetic, and went through it by 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 Understanding, and the Art of Thinking by Messrs. Du 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 latter I found a model of disputation after the manner of Socra­tes. Shortly after I procured Xenophon's work, entitled, Memorable Things of Socrates, in which are various examples of the same method. Charm­ed to a degree of enthusiasm with this mode of disputing, I adopted it, and renouncing blunt con­tradiction, and direct and positive argument, I as­sumed the character of a humble questioner. The perusal of Shaftsbury and Collins had made me a sceptic; and being previously so as to many doc­trines of Christianity, I found Socrates's 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; I incessantly practised it; and became very adroit in obtaining, even from persons of superior understanding, con­cessions of which they did not foresee the conse­quences. Thus I involved them in difficulties from [Page 30] 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 diffidence, and never making use, when I advanced any proposition which might be contro­verted, of the words certainly, undoubtedly, or any others that might give the appearance of being ob­stinately attached to my opinion. I rather said, I imagine, I suppose, or it appears to me, that such a thing is so or so, for such and such reasons; or it is so, if I am not mistaken. This habit has, I think, been of considerable advantage 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 to be informed, to please or to persuade, I could wish that intelligent and well-meaning men would not themselves diminish the powers they possess of be­ing useful, by a positive and presumptuous manner of expressing themselves, which scarcely ever fails to disgust the hearer and is only calculated to ex­cite opposition, and defeat every purpose for which the faculty of speech has been bestowed upon man. In short, if you wish to inform, a positive and dog­matical manner of advancing your opinion may provoke contradiction, and prevent your being heard with attention. On the other hand, if, with a desire of being informed, and of benefiting by the knowledge of others, you express yourselves as being strongly attached to your own opinions, mo­dest and sensible men, who do not love disputation, [Page 31] will leave you in tranquil possession of your errors. By following such a method, you can rarely hope to please your auditors, conciliate their good-will, or work conviction on those whom you may be de­sirous of gaining over to your views. Pope judici­ously observes,

Men must be taught as if you taught them not,
And things unknown propos'd as things forgot.

And in the same poem he afterwards advises us,

To speak, tho' sure, with seeming diffidence.

He might have added to these lines, one that he has coupled elsewhere, in my opinion, with less pro­priety. It is this:

For want of modesty is want of sense.

If you ask why I say with less propriety, I must give you the two lines together:

Immodest words admit of no defence,
For want of decency is want of sense.

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 been more accurate, if they had been constructed thus:

Immodest words admit but this defence,
That want of decency is want of sense.

But I leave the decision of this to better judges than myself.

In 1720, or 1721, my brother began to prin [...] new public paper. It was the second that made its appearance in America, and was entitled the New-England Courant. The only one that existed be­fore was the Boston News Letter. Some of his friends, I remember, would have dissuaded him from this undertaking, as a thing that was not like­ly to succeed; a single newspaper being, in their [Page 32] opinion, sufficient for all America. At present, how­ever, in 1777, there are no less than twenty-five. But he carried his project into execution, and I was employed in distributing the copies to his customers, after having assisted in composing and working them off.

Among his friends he had a number of literary characters, who, as an amusement, wrote short es­says for the paper, which gave it reputation and in­creased its sale. These gentlemen came frequently to our house. I heard the conversation that passed, and the accounts they gave of the favourable re­ception of their writings with the public. I was tempted to try my hand among them; but, being still a child as it were, I was fearful that my bro­ther might be unwilling to print in his paper any performance of which he should know me to be the aut [...]. I therefore contrived to disguise my hand, and having written an anonymous piece, I placed it at night under the door of the printing-house, where it was found the next morning. My brother communicated it to his friends, when they came as usual to see him, who read it, commented upon it within my hearing, and I had the exquisite pleasure to find that it met with their approbation, and that, in the various conjectures they made re­specting the author, no one was mentioned who did not enjoy a high reputation in the country for ta­lents and genius. I now supposed myself fortunate in my judges, and began to suspect that they were not such excellent writers as I had hitherto suppos­ed them. Be that as it may, encouraged by this little adventure, I wrote and sent to the press, in the same way, many other pieces, which were equal­ly approved; keeping the secret till my slender [Page 33] stock of information and knowledge for such perfor­mances was pretty completely exhausted, when I made myself known.

My brother, upon this discovery, began to en­tertain a little more respect for me; but he still re­garded himself as my master, and treated me like an apprentice. He thought himself entitled to the same services from me as from any other person. On the contrary, I conceived that, in many in­stances, he was too rigorous, and that, on the part of a brother, I had a right to expect greater in­dulgence. Our disputes were frequently brought before my father; and either my brother was ge­nerally in the wrong, or I was the better pleader of the two, for judgement 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 ap­prenticeship became insupportable to me, and I con­tinually sighed for an opportunity of shortening it, which at length unexpectedly offered.

An article inserted in our paper upon some poli­tical subject which I have now forgotten, gave of­fence to the Assembly. My brother was taken into custody, censured, and ordered into confine­ment for a month, because, as I presume, he would not discover the author. I was also taken up, and examined before the council; but, though I gave them no satisfaction, they contented themselves with reprimanding, and then dismissed me; con­sidering me probably as bound, in quality of ap­prentice, to keep my master's secrets.

[Page 34] The imprisonment of my brother kindled my resentment, notwithstanding our private quarrels. During its continuance the management of the pa­per was entrusted to me, and I was bold enough to insert some pasquerades against the governors; which highly pleased my brother, while others be­gan to look upon me in an unfavourable point of view, considering me as a young wit inclined to sa­tire and lampoon.

My brother's enlargement was accompanied with an arbitrary order from the house of assembly, ‘That James Franklin should no longer print the newspaper entitled the New-England Courant. In this conjuncture, we held a consultation of our friends at the printing-house, in order to deter­mine what was proper to be done. Some propos­ed to evade the order, by changing the title of the paper: but my brother foreseeing inconveniences that would result from this step, thought it better that it should in future be printed in the name of Benjamin Franklin; and to avoid the censure of the assembly, who might charge him with still printing the paper himself, under the name of his appren­tice, it was resolved that my old indentures should be given up to me, with a full and entire discharge written on the back, in order to be produced up­on an emergency: but that, to secure to my bro­ther the benefit of my service, I should sign a new contract, which should be kept secret during the remainder of the term. This was a very shallow arrangement. It was, however, carried into imme­diate execution, and the paper continued, in con­sequence, to make its appearance for some months in my name. At length a new difference arising between my brother and me, I ventured to take [Page 35] advantage of my liberty, presuming that he would not dare to produce the new contract. It was un­doubtedly dishonourable to avail myself of this cir­cumstance, and I reckon this action as one of the first errors of my life; but I was little capable of estimating it at its true value, embittered as my mind had been by the recollection of the blows I had received. Exclusively of his passionate treat­ment of me, my brother was by no means a man of an ill temper, and perhaps my manners had too much of impertinence not to afford it a very natural pretext.

When he knew that it was my determination to quit him, he wished to prevent my finding employ­ment elsewhere. He went to all the printing-houses in the town, and prejudiced the masters against me; who accordingly refused to employ me. The idea then suggested itself to me of going to New-York, the nearest town in which there was a printing-office. Farther reflection confirmed me in the design of leaving Boston, where I had al­ready rendered myself an object of suspicion to the governing party. It was probable, from the arbi­tary proceedings of the assembly in the affair of my brother, that, by remaining, I should soon have been exposed to difficulties, which I had the greater rea­son to apprehend, as, from my indiscreet disputes upon the subject of religion, I begun to be regarded, by pious souls, with horror, either as an apostate or an atheist. I came therefore to a resolution; but my father, in this instance, siding with my brother, I presumed that if I attempted to de­part openly, measures would be taken to prevent me. My friend Collins undertook [...] favour my [...]ight. He agreed for my passage with the captain [Page 36] of a New-York sloop, to whom he represented me as a young man of his acquaintance, who had had an affair with a girl of bad character, whose parents wished to compel me to marry her, and that of consequence I could neither make my appearance or go off publicly. I sold part of my books to procure a small sum of money, and went privately on board the sloop. By favour of a good wind, I found myself in three days at New-York, nearly three hundred miles from my home at the age only of seventeen years, without knowing an individual in the place, and with very little money in my pocket.

The inclination I had felt for a seafaring life was entirely subsided, or I should now have been able to gratify it; but having another trade, and believ­ing myself to be a tolerable workman, I hesitated not to offer my services to the old Mr. William Bradford, who had been the first Printer in Penn­sylvania, but had quitted that province on account of a quarrel with George Keith, the Governor. He could not give me employment himself, having lit­tle to do, and already as many persons as he wanted; but he told me that his son, printer at Philadelphia, had lately lost his principal workman, Aquila Rose, who was dead, and that if I would go thither, he believed that he would engage me. Philadelphia was a hundred miles farther. I hesitated not to embark in a boat in order to repair, by the shortest cut of the sea, to Amboy, leaving my trunk and effects to come after me by the usual and more te­dious conveyance In crossing the bay we met with a squall, which shattered to pieces our rotten [...]ails, prevented us from entering the Kill, and threw as upon Long-Island.

During the squall a drunken Dutchman, who [Page 37] like myself was a passenger in the boat, fell into the sea. At the moment that he was sinking, I seized him by the fore-top, saved him, and drew him on board. This immersion sober­ed him a little, so that he fell asleep, after having taken from his pocket a volume, which he request­ed me to dry. This volume I found to be my old favourite work, Bunyan's Voyages, in Dutch, a beautiful impression on fine paper, with copper­plate 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 Europe, and next to the Bible, I am persuaded, it is one of the books which has had the greatest spread. Honest John is the first, that I know of, who has mixed narrative and 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 has Richardson in his Pamela, &c.

In approaching the island we found that we had made a part of the coast where it was not possible to land, on account of the strong breakers produc­ed by the rocky shore. We cast anchor and veer­ed the cable towards the shore. Some men, who stood upon the brink, hallooed to us, while we did the same on our part; but the wind was so high, and the waves so noisy, that we could neither of us hear each other. There were some canoes upon the bank, and we called out to them, and made signs to prevail on them to come and take us up; but either they did not understand us, or they [Page 38] deemed our request impracticable, and withdrew: 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 I, to sleep if possible. For that purpose we went below the hatches along with the Dutchman, who was drench­ed with water. The sea broke over the boat, and reached us in our retreat, so that we were presently as completely drenched as he.

We had very little repose during the whole night; but the wind abating the next day, we succeeded in reaching Amboy before it was dark, after having passed thirty hours without provisions, and with no other drink than a bottle of bad rum, the water upon which we rowed being salt. In the evening I went to bed with a very violent fever. I had somewhere read that cold water, drank plentifully, was a remedy in such cases. I followed the pre­scription, was in a profuse sweat for the greater part of the night, and the fever left me. The next day I crossed the river in a ferry-boat, and continued my journey on foot. I had fifty miles to walk, in order to reach Burlington, where I was told I should find passage-boats that would convey me to Philadelphia. It rained hard the whole day, so that I was wet to the skin. Finding myself fa­tigued about noon, I stopped at a paltry inn, where I passed the rest of the day and the whole night, beginning to regret that I had quitted my home. I made besides so wretched a figure, that I was sus­pected to be some runaway servant. This I disco­vered by the questions that were asked me; and I felt that I was every moment in danger of being taken up as such. The next day, however, I con­tinued my journey, and arrived in the evening at [Page 39] 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 I had read a little, he expressed towards me considerable interest and friendship. Our acquaintance continued during the remainder of his life. I believe him to have been what is called an itinerant doctor; for there was no town in England, or indeed in Europe, of which he could not give a particular account. He was neither deficient in understanding nor literature, but he was a sad infidel; and, some years after, undertook to tra­vesty the Bible in burlesque verse, as Cotton has tra­vestied Virgil. He exhibited, by this means, many facts in a very ludicrous point of view, which would have given umbrage to weak minds, had his work been published, which it never was.

I spent the night at his house, and reached Bur­lington the next morning. On my arrival, I had the mortification to learn that the ordinary passage-boats had failed a little before. This was on a Saturday, and there would be no other boat till the Tuesday following. I returned to the house of an old woman in the town who had sold me some gin­gerbread to eat on my passage, and I asked her ad­vice. She invited me to take up my abode with her till an opportunity offered for me to embark. Fatigued with having travelled so far on foot, I ac­cepted her invitation. When she understood that I was a Printer, she would have persuaded me to stay at Burlington, and set up my trade: but she was little aware of the capital that would be neces­sary for such a purpose! I was treated while at her house with true hospitality. She gave me, with the [Page 40] utmost good-will, a dinner of beef-steaks, and would accept of nothing in return but a pint of ale.

Here I imagined myself to be fixed till the Tues­day in the ensuing week, but walking out in the evening by the river side, I saw a boat with a num­ber of persons in it approach. It was going to Philadelphia, and the company took me in. A [...] there was no wind, we could only make way with our oars. About midnight, not perceiving the town, some of the company were of opinion that we must have passed it, and were unwi [...]ling to row any farther; the rest not knowing where we were it was resolved that we should stop. We drew to­wards the shore, entered a creek, and landed near some old palisades, which served us for fire-wood it being a cold night in October. Here we stayed till day, when one of the company found the place in which we were to be 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 in the morning, and landed on Market-street wharf.

I have entered into the particulars of my voyage, and shall in like manner describe my first entrance into this city, that you may be able to compare beginnings so little auspicious, with the figure I have since made.

On my arrival at Philadelphia I was in my work­ing dress, my best cloathes being to come by sea. I was covered with dirt; my pockets were filled with shirts and stockings; I was unacquainted with a single soul in the place, and knew not where to seek for a lodging. Fatigued with walking, rowing, and having passed the night without sleep, I was [Page 41] extremely hungry, and all my money consisted of a Dutch dollar, and about a shilling's worth of coppers which I gave to the boatmen for my pas­sage. As I had assisted them in rowing, they re­fused it at first; but I insisted on their taking it. A man is sometimes more generous when he has little, than when he has much money; probably because, in the first case, he is desirous of conceal­ing his poverty.

I walked towards the top of the street, looking eagerly on both sides, till I came to Market-street where I met a child with a loaf of bread. Often had I made my dinner on dry bread. I enquired where he had bought it, and went straight to the baker's shop which he pointed out to me. I asked for some biscuits, expecting to find such as we had at Boston; but they made it seems, none of that sort at Philadelphia. I then asked for a three-pen­ny loaf. They made no loaves of that price. Find­ing myself ignorant of the prices, as well as of the different kinds of bread, I desired him to let me have three penny-worth of bread of some kind or other. He gave me three large rolls. I was sur­prized at receiving so much: I took them, how­ever, and having no room in my pockets, I walked on with a roll under each arm, eating the third. In this manner I went through Market-street to Fourth-street, and passed the house of Mr. Read, the father of my future wife. She was standing at the door, observed me, and thought, with reason, that I made a very singular and grotesque appearance.

I then turned the corner; and went through Chesnut-street, eating my roll all the way; and having made this round; I found myself again on Market-street wharf, near the boat in which I had [Page 42] arrived, I stepped into it to take a draught of the ri­ver water; and finding myself satisfied with my first roll, I gave the other two to a woman and her child, who had come down the river with us in the boat, and was waiting to continue her journey. Thus refreshe [...], I regained the street, which was now full of well dressed people, all going the same way. I joined them, and was thus led to a large Quakers' meeting-house near the market-place. I sat down with the rest, and after looking round me for some time, hearing nothing said, and being drowsy from my last night's labour and want of rest, I fell into a sound sleep. In this state I continued till the as­sembly dispersed, when one of the congregation had the goodness to wake me. This was consequently the first house I entered, or in which I slept at Phi­ladelphia.

I began again to walk along the street by the river side; and looking attentively in the face of every one I met, I at length perceived a young quaker, whose countenance pleased me. I accost­ed him, and begged him to inform me where a stranger might find a lodging. We were then near the sign of the Three Mariners. They receive tra­vellers here, said he, but it is not a house that bears a good character; if you will go with me, I will shew you a better one. He conducted me to the Crooked Billet, in Water-street. There I ordered something for dinner, and during my meal a number of curious questions were put to me; my youth and appearance exciting the suspicion of my being a runaway. After dinner my drowsiness returned, and I threw myself upon a bed without taking off my clothes, and slept till six o'clock in the even­ing, when I was called to supper▪ I afterwards [Page 43] went to bed at a very early hour, and did not awake till the next morning.

As soon as I got up I put myself in as decent a trim as I could, and went to the house of Andrew Bradford the printer. I found his father in the shop, whom I had seen at New-York. Having travelled on horseback, he had arrived at Philadel­phia before me. He introduced me to his son, who received me with civility, and gave me some break­fast; but told me he had no occasion for a journey­man, having lately procured one. He added, that there was another printer newly settled in the town, of the name of Keimer, who might perhaps employ me; and that in case of a refusal, I should be wel­come to lodge at his house, and he would give me a little work now and then, till something better should offer.

The old man offered to introduce me to the new printer. When we were at his house: "Neigh­bour," said he, "I bring you a young man in the printing business; perhaps you may have need of his services."

Keimer asked me some questions, put a compos­ing stick in my hand to see how I could work, and then said, that at present he had nothing for me to do, but that he should soon be able to employ me. At the same time taking old Bradford for an inhabitant of the town will-disposed towards him, he communicated his project to him, and the pros­pect he had of success. Bradford was careful not to discover that he was the father of the other printer: and from what Keimer had said, that he hoped shortly to be in possession of the greater part of the business of the town, led him by artful ques­tions, and by starting some difficulties, to disclose [Page 44] all his views, what his hopes were founded upon, and how he intended to proceed. I was present, and I heard it all. I instantly saw that one of the two was a cunning old fox, and the other a perfect novice. Bradford left me with Keimer, who was strangely surprised when I informed him who the old man was.

I found Keimer's printing materials to consist of an old damaged press, and a small cast of worn-out English letters, with which he was himself at work upon an elegy on Aquila Rose, whom I have men­tioned above, an ingenious young man, and of an excellent character, highly esteemed in the town, secretary to the assembly, and a very tolerable poet. Keimer also made verses, but they were indifferent ones. He could not be said to write in verse, for his method was to set the lines as they flowed from his muse; and as he worked without copy, had but one set of letter-cases, and the elegy would proba­bly occupy all his type, it was impossible 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 promis­ed to come and work off his elegy as soon as it should be ready, I returned to the house of Brad­ford, who gave me some trifle to do for the present, for which I had my board and lodging.

In a few days Keimer sent for me to print off his elegy. He had now procured another set of letter-cases, and had a pamphlet to reprint, upon which he set me to work.

The two Philadelphia printers appeared destitute of every qualification necessary in their profession. Bradford had not been brought up to it, and was [Page 45] very illiterate. Keimer, though he understo [...] a little of the business, was merely a compositor, and wholly incapable of working at the press. He [...] been one of the French prophets, and knew [...] to imitate their supernatural agitations. At the time of our first acquaintance he professed no par­ticular religion, but a little of all upon occasion. He was totally ignorant of the world, and a great knave at heart, as I had afterwards 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 he could not take me in. He procured me a lodging at Mr. Read's, his landlord, whom I have already mentioned. My trunk and effects being now ar­rived, I thought of making, in the eyes of Miss Read, a more respectable appearance than when chance exhibited me to her view, eating my roll, and wandering in the streets.

From this period I began to contract acquaint­ance with such young people of the town as were fond of reading, and spent my evenings with them agreeably, while at the same time I gained money by my industry, and, thanks to my frugality, lived contented. I thus forgot Boston as much as possi­ble, and wished every one to be ignorant of the place of my residence, except my friend Collins, to whom I wrote, and who kept my secret.

An incident, however arrived, which sent me home much sooner than I had proposed. I had a brother-in-law, of the name of Robert Holmes, master of a trading sloop from Boston to Delaware▪ Being at Newcastle, forty miles below Philadel­phia, [Page 46] he heard of me, and wrote to inform me of the chagrin which my sudden departure from Bos­ton had occasioned my parents, and of the affec­tion which they still entertained for me, assuring me that, if I would return, every thing should be adjusted to my satisfaction; and he was very pres­sing in his entreaties. I answered his letter, thank­ed him for his advice, and explained the reasons which had induced me to quit Boston with such force and clearness, that he was convinced I had been less to blame than he had imagined.

Sir William Keith, Governor of the province was at Newcastle at the time. Captain Holmes, being by chance in his company when he received my letter, took occasion to speak of me, and shewed it him. The Governor read it, and appeared sur­prised when he learned my age. He thought me, he said, a young man of very promising talents, and that, of consequence, I ought to be encourag­ed; that there were at Philadelphia none but very ignorant printers, and that if I were to set up for myself, he had no doubt of my success; that, for his own part, he would procure me all the public business, and would render me every other service in his power. My brother-in-law related all this to me afterwards at Boston; but I knew nothing of it at the time; when one day Keimer and I be­ing at work together near the window, we saw the Governor and another gentleman, Colonel French of Newcastle, handsomely 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 enquired for me, came up stairs, and, with [...] condescension and politeness to which I had not [Page 47] at all been accustomed, paid me many compliments, desired to be acquainted with me, obligingly re­proached me for not having made myself known to him on my arrival in the town, and wished me to accompany him to a tavern, where he and colonel French were going to taste some excellent Madeira wine.

I was, I confess, somewhat surprised, and 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 Madeira, he proposed to me to establish a printing-house. He set forth the probabilities of success, and himself and colonel French assured me that I should have their protection and influ­ence in obtaining the printing of the public papers of both governments; and as I appeared to doubt whether my father would assist me in this enterprise, Sir William said that he would give me a letter to him, in which he would represent the advantages of the scheme, in a light which he had no doubt would determine him. It was thus concluded that I should return to Boston by the first vessel, with the letter of recommendation from the governor to my father. Meanwhile the project was to be kept secret, and I continued to work for Keimer as before.

The Governor sent every now and then to invite me to dine with him. I considered this as a very great honour; and I was the more sensible of it, as he con­versed with me in the most affable, familiar, and friendly manner imaginable.

Towards the end of April 1724, a small vessel was ready to sail for Boston. I took leave of Kei­mer, upon the pretext of going to see my parents. [Page 48] The governor gave me a long letter, in which he said many flattering things of me to my father; and strongly recommended the project of my set­tling at Philadelphia, as a thing which could not fail to make my fortune.

Going down the bay we struck on a flat, and sprung a leak. The weather was very tempestu­ous, and we were obliged to pump without inter­mission; I took my turn. We arrived however safe and sound at Boston, after about a fortnight's passage.

I had been absent seven complete months, and my relations, during that interval, had received no intelligence of me; for my brother-in-law, Holmes, was not yet returned, and had not written about me. My unexpected appearance surprised the fa­mily; but they were all delighted at seeing me again, and, except by brother, welcomed me home. I went to him at the printing-office. I was better dressed than I had ever been while in his service: I had a complete suit of clothes, new and neat, a watch in my pocket, and my purse was fur­nished with nearly five pounds sterling in mo­ney. He gave me no very civil reception; and having eyed me from head to foot, resumed his work.

The workmen asked me with eagerness where I had been, what sort of a country it was, and how I liked it. I spoke in the highest terms of Phila­delphia, the happy life we led there, and expressed my intention of going back again. One of them asked what sort of money we had, I displayed be­fore them a handful of silver, which I drew from my pocket. This was a curiosity to which they were not accustomed, paper being the current mo­ney [Page 49] at Boston. I failed not after this to let them see my watch; and at last, my brother 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 forget or forgive it: in this, however, he was mistaken.

The governor's letter appeared to excite in my father some surprise; but he said little. After some days, Capt. Holmes being returned, he sh [...]w­ed it him, asking him if he knew Keith, and what sort of a man he was: adding, that, in his opini­on, it proved very little discernment to think of setting up a boy in business, who for three years to come would not be of an age to be ranked in the class of men. Holmes 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 enterprise, and which would require so considerable a sum of money.

My old comrade Collins, who was a clerk i [...] the post-office, charmed with the account I gave of my new residence, expressed a desire of going thither; and while I waited my father's determination, he set off before me, by land, for Rhode-Island, leaving his books which formed a handsome col­lection in mathematics and natural philosophy, [...] [Page 50] be conveyed with mine to New-York, where [...] purposed to wait for me.

My father, though he could not approve Sir William's proposal, was yet pleased that I had ob­tained so advantegeous a recommendation as that of a person of his rank, and that my industry and oeconomy had enabled me to equip myself so hand­somely in so short a period. Seeing no appearance of accommodating matters between my brother and me, he consented to my return to Philadel­phia, advised me to be civil to every body, to en­deavour to obtain general esteem, and avoid sa­tire and sarcasm, to which he thought I was too much inclined; adding, that, with perseverance and prudent oeconomy, I might, by the time I be­came of age, save enough to establish myself in bu­siness; and that if a small sum should then [...]e wanting he would undertake to supply it.

This was all I could obtain from him, except some trifling presents, in token of friendship from him and my mother. I embarked once more for New-York, furnished at this time with their appro­bation and blessing. The sloop having touched at Newport in Rhode Island, I paid a visit to my bro­ther John, who had for some years been settled there, and was married. He had always been at­tached to me, and received me with great affection. One of his friends, whose name was Vernon, hav­ing a debt of about thirty-six pounds due to him in Pennsylvania, begged me to receive it for him, and keep the money till I should hear from him: ac­cordingly he gave me an order for that purpose. This affair occasioned me, in the sequel, much un­easiness.

At Newport we took on board a number of [Page 51] passengers; among whom were two young women, and a grave and sensible quaker lady with her ser­vants. I had shewn an obliging forwardness in rendering the quaker some trifling services, which led her, probably, to feel some interest in my wel­fare; for when she saw a familiarity take place, and every day increase, between the two young wo­men and me, she took me aside and said, "Young man, I am in pain for thee. Thou hast no parent to watch over thy conduct, and thou seemest to be ignorant of the world, and the snares to which youth is exposed. Rely upon what I tell thee: those are women of bad characters; I perceive it in all their actions. If thou dost not take care, they will lead thee into danger. They are stran­gers to thee, and I advise thee, by the friendly in­terest I take in thy preservation, to form no con­nection with them." As I appeared at first not to think quite so ill of them as she did, she related many things she had seen and heard, which had escaped my attention, but which convinced me she was in the right. I thanked her for her obliging advice, and promised to follow it.

When we arrived at New-York, they informed me where they lodged, and invited me to come and see them. I did not however go, and it was well 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, procured a search warrant, found the stolen goods upon them, and had them punished. And thus, after having been saved from one rock concealed under water, upon which the [Page 52] 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 more time to reading and study, and an astonishing disposition for mathematics, in which he left me far behind him. When at Bos­ton, I had been accustomed to pass with him al­most all my leisure hours. He was then a sober and industrious lad; his knowledge had gained him [...] very general esteem, and he seemed to promise to make an advantageous figure in society. But, during my absence, he had unfortunately addicted himself to brandy, and I 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 expences at the inn, and to maintain him during the rest of the journey; a burthen that was very inconvenient to me.

The Governor of New-York, whose name was Burnet, hearing the Captain say that a young man who was a passenger in his ship had a great num­ber of books, begged him to bring me to his house, I accordingly went, and should have taken Collins with me, had he been sober. The Governor treat­ed me with great civility, shewed me his library▪ which was a very considerable one, and we talked for some time upon books and authors. This was the second Governor who had honoured me with [Page 53] his attention; and to a poor boy, as I then was these little adventures did not fail to be pleasing.

We arrived at Philadelphia. On the way I re­ceived Vernon's money, without which we should have been unable to have finished our journey.

Collins wished to get employment as a merchant's clerk; but either his breath or his countenance betrayed his bad habit; for, though he had re­commendations, he met with no success, and con­tinued to lodge and eat with me, and at my expence. Knowing that I had Vernon's money, he was con­tinually asking me to lend him some of it; pro­mising to repay me as soon as he should get employ­ment. At last he had drawn so much of this mo­ney, that I was extremely alarmed at what might become of me, should he fail to make good the deficiency. His habit of drinking did not all di­minish, and was a frequent source of discord be­tween 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 other young persons, he refused to take his turn in rowing. You shall row for me, said he, till we get home.—No, I replied, we will not row for you.—You shall, said he, or remain upon the water all night.—As you please.—Let us row, said the rest of the company: what signi­fies whether he assists or not. But, already angry with him for his conduct in other respects, I per­sisted in my refusal. He then swore that he would make me row, or would throw me out of the boat; and he made up to me. As soon as he was with­in my reach I took him by the collar, gave him a violent thrust, and threw him head-foremost into [Page 54] the river. I knew that he was a good swimmer, and was therefore under no apprehensions for his life. Before he could turn himself, we were able, by a few strokes of our oars, to place ourselves out of his reach; and whenever he touched the boat, we asked him if he would row, stricking his hands with the oars to make him let go his hold. He was nearly suffocated with rage, but obstinately refused 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 of a West-India ship, who was commissioned to procure a tutor for the children of a gentleman at Barbadoes, meeting with Collins, offered him the place. He accepted it, and took his leave of me, promising to discharge the debt he owed me with the first money he should receive; but I have heard nothing of him since.

The violation of the trust reposed in me by Ver­non, was one of the first great errors of my life; and it proves that my father was not mistakes when he supposed me too young to be entrusted with the management of important affairs. But Sir William, upon reading his letter, thought him too prudent. There was a difference, he said, between individuals: years of maturity were not always ac­companied with discretion, neither was youth in every instance devoid of it. Since your father, ad­ded he, will not 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. I am deter­mined to have a good printer here, and I am sure [Page 55] you will succeed. This was said with so much seeming cordiality, that I suspected not for an in­stant the sincerity of the offer. I had hitherto kept the project, with which Sir William had in­spired me, of settling in business a secret at Phi­ladelphia, and I still continued to do so. Had my reliance on the governor been known, some friend, better acquainted with his character than myself, would doubtless have advised me not to trust him; for I afterwards learned that he was universally known to be liberal of promises, which he had no intention to perform. But having never solicited him, how could I suppose his offers to be deceitful? On the contrary, I believed him to be the best man in the world.

I gave him an inventory of a small printing-of­fice; the expence of which I had calculated at a­bout a hundred pounds sterling. He expressed his approbation; but asked if my presence in Eng­land, that I might choose the characters myself, and see that every article was good in its kind, would not be an advantage. You will also be a­ble, said he, to form some acquaintance there, and establish a correspondence with 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 Ke [...] ­mer, unhappy respecting the sum which Collins had drawn from me, and almost in continual ago­ny at the thoughts of Vernon, who fortunately [Page 56] made no demand of his money till several years after.

In the account of my first voyage from Boston to Philadelphia, I omitted I believe a trifling cir­cumstance, which will not perhaps be out of place here. During a calm which stopped us above Block-island, the crew employed 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 Tryon, the capture of every fish as a sort of murder, committed without provocation, since these animals had neither done, nor were ca­pable of doing, the smallest injury to any one that should justify the measure. This mode of reason­ing I conceived to be unanswerable. Meanwhile I had formerly been extremely fond of fish; and when one of these cod was taken out of the frying­pan, 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 myself, If you eat one another, I see no reason why we may not eat you. I accordingly dined on the cod with no small degree of pleasure, and have since continued to eat like the rest of mankind, returning only occasionally 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 [Page 57] of his former enthusiasm; and being fond of ar­gument, we frequently disputed together. I was so much in the habit of using my Socratic method, and had so frequently puzzled him by my ques­tions, which appeared at first very distant from the point in debate, 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 fami­liar question without previously asking me—What would you infer from that? Hence he formed so high an opinion of my talents for refutation, that he seriously proposed to me to become his colleague in the establishment of a new religious sect. He was to propagate the doctrine by preaching, and I to re­fute every opponent.

When he explained to me his tenets, I found 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 shalt not mar the cor­ners of thy beard. He likewise observed the Sab­bath; and these were with him two very essential points. I disliked them both; but I consented to adopt them, provided he would abstain from ani­mal food. I doubt, said he, whether my constitu­tion will be able to support it. I assured him on the contrary, that he would find himself the bet­ter for it. He was naturally a glutton, and I wish­ed to amuse myself by starving him. He consent­ed to make trial of this regimen, if [...] would bear him company; and in reality we continued it for [Page 58] three months. A woman in the neighbourhood prepared and 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 expence of our li­ving did not exceed for each eighteen-pence a week.

I have since that period observed several Lents with the greatest strictness, and have suddenly re­turned again to my ordinary diet, without experi­encing the smallest inconvenience; which has led me to regard as of no importance the advice common­ly given, of introducing gradually such alterations of regimen.

I continued it cheerfully; but poor Keimer suf­fered terribly. Tired of the project, he sighed for the flesh pots of Egypt. At length he ordered a roast pig, and invited me and two of our female acquain­tance to dine with him; but the pig being ready a little too soon, he could not resist the temptation, and eat it all up before we arrived.

During the circumstances I have related, I had paid some 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 thought it prudent to prevent matters being carried too far for the present, judging that if marriage was our object, there would be more propriety in it after my return, when, as at least I expected, I should be established [Page 59] in my business. Perhaps also she thought that my expectations were not so well-founded as I ima­gined.

My most intimate acquaintance at this time were Charles Osborne, Joseph Watson, and James Ralph; young men who were all fond of reading. The two first were clerks to Mr. Charles Brock­don, one of the principal attornies in the town, and the other clerk to a merchant. Watson was an upright, pious and sensible young man: the others were somewhat more loose in their principles of religion, particularly Ralph, whose faith, as well as that of Collins, I had contributed to shake; each of whom made me suffer a very adequate pu­nishment. Osborne was sensible, and sincere and affectionate in his friendships, but too much inclin­ed to the critic in matters of literature. Ralph was ingenious and shrewd, genteel in his address, and extremely eloquent. I do not remember to have met with a more agreeable speaker. They were both enamoured of the muses, and had alrea­dy evinced their passion by some small poetical pro­ductions.

It was a custom with us to take a charming walk on Sundays, in the woods that border on the Skuylkill. Here we read together and afterwards conversed on what we read. Ralph was disposed to give himself up entirely to poetry. He flattered himself that he should arrive at great eminence in the art, and even acquire a fortune. The sublim­est poets, he pretended, when they first began to write, committed as many faults as himself. Os­borne endeavoured to dissuad him from it, by as­suring him that he had no genius for poetry, and [Page 60] advised him to stick to the trade in which he had been brought up. In the road of commerce, said he, you will be sure, by diligence and assiduity, though you have no capital, of so far succeeding as to be employed as a factor, and may thus, in time, acquire the means of setting up for yourself. I concured in these sentiments, but at the same time expressed my approbation of amusing ourselves sometimes with poetry, with a view to improve our style. In consequence of this it was proposed, that, at our next meeting, each of us should bring a copy of verses of his own composition. Our ob­ject in this competition was to benefit each other by our mutual remarks, criticisms, and corrections; and as style and expression were all we had in view, we excluded every idea of invention, by agreeing that our task should be a version of the eighteenth psalm, in which is described the descent of the deity.

The time of our meeting drew near, when Ralph called upon me, and told me his piece was ready. I informed him that I had been idle, and, not much liking the task, had done nothing. He showed me his piece, and asked what I thought of it. I expressed myself in terms of warm approbation; because it really appeared to have considerable me­rit. He then said: Osborne will never acknow­ledge the smallest degree of excellence in any pro­duction of mine. Envy alone dictates to him a thousand animadversions. Of you he is not so jea­lous: I wish therefore you would take the verses and produce them as your own. I will pretend not to have had leisure to write any thing. We shall then see in what manner he will speak of them. I agreed to this little artifice, and immediately transcribed the verses to prevent all suspicion.

[Page 61] We met. Watson's performance was the first that was read. It had some beauties, but many faults. We next read Osborne's, which was much better. Ralph did it justice, remarking a few im­perfections, and applauding such parts as were excellent. He had himself nothing to show. It was now my turn. I made some difficulty; seem­ed as if I wished to be excused; pretended that I had had no time to make corrections, &c. No excuse, however, was admissible, and the piece must be produced. It was read and re-read. Wat­son and Osborne immediately resigned the palm, and united in applauding it. Ralph alone made a few remarks, and proposed some alterations; but I defended my text. Osborne agreed with me, and told Ralph he was no more able to criticise than he was able to write.

When Osborne was alone with me, he expressed himself still more strongly in favour of what he considered as my performance. He pretended that he had put some restraint on himself before, ap­prehensive of my construing his commendation into flattery. But who would have supposed, said he, Franklin to be capable of such a composition? What painting, what energy, what fire! He has surpassed the original. In his common conversa­tion he appears not to have choice of words; he hesitates, and is at a loss; and yet, good God, how he writes!

At our next meeting Ralph discovered the trick we had played Osborne, who was rallied without mercy.

By this adventure Ralph was fixed in his reso­lution of becoming a poet. I left nothing unat­tempted to divert him from his purpose; but he [Page 62] persevered, till at last the reading of Pope* effected his cure: he became, however, a very tolerable prose writer. I shall speak more of him hereafter; but as I shall probably have no farther occasion to mention the other two, I ought to observe here, that Watson died a few years after in my arms. He was greatly regretted; for he was the best of our society. Osborne went to the islands, where he gained considerable reputation as a barrister, and was getting money; but he died young. We had seriously engaged, that whoever died first should return, if possible, and pay a friendly visit to the survivor, to give him an account of the other world; but he 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 point that was decided. I was to take with me let­ters of recommendation to a number of friends; and particularly a letter of credit, in order to obtain the ne­cessary sum for the purchase of my press, types, and paper. He appointed various times for me to come for these letters, which would certainly be ready; and when I came, always put me off to another day.

These successive delays continued till the vessel, whose departure had been several times deferred, was on the point of setting sail; when I again went to Sir William's house, to receive my letters and take leave of him. I saw his secretary, Dr. Bard, who told me that the governor was extremely bu­sy [Page 63] writing, but that he would be down at Newcas­tle before the vessel, and that the letters would be delivered to me there.

Ralph, though he was married and had a child, determined to accompany me in this voyage. His object was supposed to be the establishing a corre­spondence with some mercantile houses, in order to sell goods by commission; but I 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 inter­changed promises of fidelity with Miss Read, I quitted Philadelphia. At Newcastle the vessel came to anchor. The governor was arrived, and I went to his lodgings. His secretary received me with great civility, told me on the part of the go­vernor that he could not see me then, as he was engaged in affairs of the utmost importance, but that he would send the letters on board, and that he wished me, with all his heart, a good voyage and speedy return. I returned, somewhat astonish­ed, to the ship, but still without entertaining the slightest suspicion.

Mr. Hamilton, a celebrated barrister of Phila­delphia, had taken a passage to England for him­self and his son, and, in conjunction with Mr. Den­ham a quaker, and Messrs. Oniam and Russel, proprietors of a forge in Maryland, had agreed for the whole cabin, so that Ralph and I were obliged to take up our lodging with the crew. Being unknown to every body in the ship, we were looked upon as the common order of people: but Mr. Ha­milton and his son (it was James, who was [Page 64] afterwards governor) left us at Newcastle, and re­turned to Philadelphia, where he was recalled, [...] a very great expence, to plead the cause of a vessel that had been seized; and just as we were about to sail, colonel Finch came on board, and shewed me many civilities. The passengers upon this pai [...] me more attention, and I was invited, together with my friend Ralph, to occupy the place in the cabin which the return of the Mr. Hamiltons had made vacant; an offer which we very readily ac­cepted.

Having learned that the dispatches of the gover­nor had been brought on board by colonel Finch, I asked the captain for the letters that were to be intrusted 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 opportunity of taking them out. I was satisfied with this answer, and we pursued one 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. Ha­milton'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 we had much bad weather.

When we arrived in the river, the captain was as good as his word, and allowed me to search the bag for the governor's letters. I could not find a single one with my name written on it, as commit­ted to my care; but I selected six or seven, which I judged from the direction to be those that were intended for me; particularly one to Mr. Basket [Page 65] the King's printer, an another to a stationer, who was the first person I called upon. I delivered him the letter as coming from Governor Keith. ‘I have no acquaintance (said he) with any such person;’ and opening the letter, ‘Oh, it is from Riddlesden!’ he exclaimed. ‘I have lately disco­vered him to be a very arrant knave, and I wish to have nothing to do either with him or his letters.’ He instantly put the letter into my hand, turned upon his heel, and left me to serve some cus­tomers.

I was astonished at finding these letters were not from the Governor. Reflecting and putting cir­cumstances together, I then began to doubt his sincerity. I rejoined my friend Denham, and re­lated the whole affair to him. He let me at once into Keith's character, told me there was not the least probability of his having written a single let­ter; that no one who knew him ever placed any reliance on him, and laughed at my credulity in supposing that the Governor would give me a letter of credit, when he had no credit for himself. As I showed some uneasiness respecting what step I should take, he advised me to try to get employment in the house of some printer. You may there, said he, improve yourself in business, and you will be able to settle yourself the more advantageously when you return to America.

We knew already, as well as the stationer, at­torney Riddlesden to be a knave. He had nearly ruined the father of Miss Read, by drawing him in to be his security. We learned from his letter, that he was secretly carrying on an intrigue, in concert with the Governor, to the prejudice of Mr. Hamilton, who it was supposed would by this time [Page 66] be in Europe. Denham, who was Hamilton friend, was of opinion that he ought to be made acquainted with it; and in reality, the instant be arrived in England, which was very soon after, I waited on him, and, as much from good-will to him as from resentment against the Governor, put the letter into his hands. He thanked me very sincerely, the information it contained being of consequence to him; and from that moment bestow­ed on me his friendship, which afterwards proved [...] many occasions serviceable to me.

But what are we to think of a Governor who could play so scurvy a trick, and thus grossly de­ceive a poor young lad, wholly destitute of expe­rience? It was a practice with him. Wishing to please every body, and having little to bestow, [...] 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 f [...]r the proprietaries, whose instructions he frequently disregarded. Many of our best laws were his work, and established during his administration.

Ralph and I were inseperable companions. We took a lodging together at three-and-sixpence 1 week, which was as much as we could afford. He met with some relations in London, but they were poor, and not able to assist him. He now, for the first time, informed me of his intention to remain in England, and that he had no thoughts of ever returning to Philadelphia. He was totally without money; the little he had been able to raise hav­ing barely sufficed for his passage. I had still fif­teen pistoles remaining; and to me he had from time to time recourse, while he tried to get em­ployment.

[Page 67] At first, believing himself possessed of talents for the stage, he thought of turning actor; but Wilkes, to whom he applied, frankly advised him to renounce the idea, as it was impossible to suc­ceed. He next proposed to Roberts, a bookseller in Paternoster-Row, to write a weekly paper in the manner of the Spectator, upon terms to which Roberts would not listen. Lastly, he endeavoured to procure employment as a copyist, and applied to the lawyers and stationers about the Temple; but he could find no vacancy.

As to myself, I immediately got engaged at Palmer's, at that time a noted printer in Bartho­lomew Close, with whom I continued nearly a year. I applied very assiduously to my work; but I ex­pended with Ralph almost all that I earned. Plays, and other places of amusement which we frequent­ed together, having exhausted my pistoles, we liv­ed after this from hand to mouth. He appeared to have entirely forgotten his wife and child, as I also, by degrees, forgot my engagements with Miss Read, to whom I never wrote more than one let­ter, and that merely to inform her that I was not likely to return soon. This was another grand er­ror of my life, which I should be desirous of cor­recting, were I to begin my career again.

I was employed at Palmer's on the second edi­tion of Woolaston's Religion of Nature. Some of his arguments appearing to me not to be well founded, I wrote a small metaphysical treatise, in which I animadverted on those passages. It was entitled a Dissertation on Liberty and Necessity, Pleasure and Pain. I dedicated it to my friend Ralph, and printed a small number of copies. Pal­mer upon this treated me with more consideration. [Page 68] and regarded me as a young man of talents; tho' 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 ac­quaintance with a bookseller of the name of W [...] ­cox, whose shop was next door to me. Circulating libraries were not then in use. He had an immense collection of books of all sorts. We agreed that, for a reasonable retribution, of which I have now forgotten the price, I should have free access to his library, and take what books I pleased, which I was to return when I had read them. I consider­ed this agreement as a very great advantage; and I derived from it as much benefit as was in my power.

My pamphlet falling into the hands of a surgeon, of the name of Lyons, author of a book entitled Infallibility 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 Fable of Bees, who had instituted a club [...] a tavern in Cheapside, of which he was the [...] he was a facetious and very amusing character. He also introduced me, at Baston's coffee-house, to Dr. Pemberton, who promised to give me an op­portunity of seeing Sir Isaac Newton, which I ve­ry ardently desired; but he never kept his word.

I had brought some curiosities with me from A­merica; the principal of which was a purse made of asbestos, which fire only purifies. Sir [...] Sl [...]ane hearing of it, called upon me, and invited [Page 69] me to his house in Bloomsbury square, where, af­ter showing me every thing that was curious, he prevailed on me to add this piece to his collection; for which he paid me very handsomely.

There lodged in the same house with us a young woman, a milliner, who had a shop by the side of the Exchange. Lively and sensible, and having received an education somewhat above her rank, her conversation was very agreeable. Ralph read plays to her every evening. They became inti­mate. She took another lodging, and he follow­ed her. They lived for some time together; but Ralph being without employment, she having a child, and the profits of her business not sufficing for the maintenance of three, he resolved to quit London, and try a country school. This was a plan in which he thought himself likely to succeed, as he wrote a fine hand, and was versed in arith­metic and accounts. But considering the office as beneath him, and expecting some day to make a better figure in the world, when he should be a­shamed of its being known that he had exercised a profession so little honourable, he changed his name, and did me the honour of assuming mine. He wrote to me soon after his departure, informing me that he was settled at a small village in Berk­shire. In his letter he recommended Mrs. T***, the milliner, to my care, and requested an answer, directed to Mr. Franklin, schoolmaster at N***.

He continued to write to me frequently, send­ing me large 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. [Page 70] Young had just published one of his Satires. I copied and sent him a great part of it; in which the author demonstrates the folly of cultivating the Muses, from the hope, by their instrumentality, of rising in the world. It was all to no purpose; paper after paper of his poem continued to arrive every post.

Meanwhile Mrs. T*** having lost, on his ac­count, both her friends and her business, was fre­quently in distress. 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 fondness 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, he gave me to understand that he considered all the obligations he owed me as annihilated by this pro­ceeding; whence I concluded that I was never to expect the payment of what money I had lent him, or advanced on his account. I was the less afflict­ed at this, as he was unable to pay me; and as, by losing his friendship, I was relieved at the same time from a very heavy burden.

I now began to think of laying by some money. The printing-house of Watts, near Lincoln's Inn-Fields, being a still more considerable one than that in which I worked, it was probable I might find it more advantageous to be employed there. I offered myself, and was accepted; and in this house I continued during the remainder of my stay in London.

[Page 71] 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 drank nothing but water. The other workmen, to the number of about fifty, were great drinkers of beer. I carried occasionally a large form of letters in each hand, up and down stairs, while the rest employed both hands to carry one. They were surprised to see, by this and many other examples, that the American Aquatic, as they used to call me, was stronger than those who drank por­ter. The beer-boy had sufficient employment dur­ing the whole day in serving that house alone.—My fellow-pressman drank every day a pint of beer before breakfast, a pint with bread and cheese for breakfast, one between breakfast and dinner, one at dinner, one again about six o'clock in the after­noon, and another after he had finished his day's work. This custom appeared to me abominable; but he had need, said he, of all this beer, in order to acquire strength to work.

I endeavoured to convince him that bodily strength furnished by the beer, could only be in proportion to the solid part of the barley dissolved in the water of which the beer was composed; that there was a larger portion of flour in a penny loaf, and that consequently if he eat this loaf, and drank a pint of water with it, he would derive more strength from it than from a pint of beer. This reasoning, however, did not prevent him from drinking his accustomed quantity of beer, and pay­ing every Saturday night a score of four or five shillings a week for this cursed beverage; an ex­pence [Page 72] from which I was wholly exempt. Thus do these poor devils continue all their lives in a state of voluntary wretchedness and poverty.

At the end of a few weeks, Watts having occa­sion for me above stairs as a compositor, I quitted the press. 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 the fra­ternity. I was consequently looked upon as ex­communicated; and whenever I was absent, no little trick that malice could suggest was left un­practised upon me. I found my letters mixed, my pages transposed, my matter broken, &c. &c. all which was attributed to the spirit that haunted the chapel*, and tormented those who were not regular­ly admitted. I was at last obliged to submit to pay, notwithstanding the protection of the master; con­vinced of the folly of not keeping up a good under­standing with those among whom we are destined to live.

After this I lived in the utmost harmony with my fellow-labourers, and soon acquired considera­ble influence among them. I proposed some al­terations in the laws of the chapel, which I carried without opposition. My example prevailed with several of them to renounce their abominable prac­tice of bread and cheese with beer; and they pro­cured, like me, from a neighbouring house, a good bason of warm gruel, in which was a small slice of butter, with toasted bread and nutmeg. This was a much better breakfast, which did not cost more [Page 73] than a pint of beer, namely, three-halfpence, and at the same time preserving the head clearer. Those who continued to gorge themselves with beer, of­ten lost their credit with the publican, from ne­glecting to pay their score. They had then recourse to me, to become security for them; their light, as they used to call it, being out. I attended at the pay-table every Saturday evening, to take up the little sum which I had made myself answerable for; and which sometimes amounted to nearly thir­ty shillings a week.

This circumstance, added to my reputation of being a tolerable good gabber, or, in other words, skilful in the art of burlesque, kept up my impor­tance in the chapel. I had besides recommended myself to the esteem of my master by my assiduous application to business, never observing Saint Mon­day. My extraordinary quickness in composing always procured me such work as was most urgent, and which is commonly best paid; and thus my time passed away in a very pleasant manner.

My lodging in Little Britain being too far from the printing-house, I took another in Duke-street, opposite the Roman Chapel. It was at the back of an Italian warehouse. The house was kept by a widow, who had a daughter, a servant, and a shop boy; but the latter slept out of the house. After sending to the people with whom I lodged in Little Britain, to enquire into my character, she agreed to take me in at the same price, three-and-sixpence a week; contenting herself, she said, with so little, be­cause of the security she would derive; [...]s they were all women, from having a man lodge in the house.

She was a woman rather advanced in life, the daughter of Clergyman. She had been educated [Page 74] a Protestant; but her husband, whose memory she highly revered, had converted her to the Catholic religion. She had lived in habits of intimacy with persons of distinction; of whom she knew various anecdotes as far back as the time of Charles II. Be­ing subject to sits of the gout, which often confined her to her room, she was sometimes disposed to see company. Hers was so amusing to me, that I was glad to pass the evening with her as often as she desired it. Our supper consisted only of half an anchovy a-piece, upon a slice of bread and butter, with a half a pint of ale between us. But the enter­tainment was in her conversation.

The early hours I kept, and the little trouble I occasioned in the family, made her loath to part with me; and when I mentioned another lodging I had found, nearer the printing-house, at two shil­lings a week, which fell in with my plan of saving, she persuaded me to give it up, making herself an abatement of two shillings: and thus I continued to lodge with her, during the remainder of my abode in London, at eighteen-pence a week.

In a garret of the house there lived, in the most retired 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 monasteries, she made a vow to lead a monastic life, in as rigid a manner as cir­cumstances would permit. She accordingly dis­posed of all her property to be applied to charitable uses, reserving to herself only twelve pounds a [Page 75] year; and of this small pittance she gave a part to the poor, living on water-gruel, and never making use of fire but to boil it. She had lived in this garret a great many years, without paying rent to the successive Catholic inhabitants that had kept the house; who indeed considered her abode with them as a blessing. A priest came every day to confess her. I have asked her, said my landlady, how, living as she did, she could find so much em­ployment for a confessor? To which she answered, that it was impossible to avoid vain thoughts.

I was once permitted to visit her. She was cheerful and polite, and her conversation agreea­ble. Her apartment was neat; but the whole furniture consisted of a mattrass, a table, on which were a crucifix and a book, a chair, which she gave me to sit on, and over the mantle-piece a picture of St. Veronica displaying her handkerchief, on which was seen the miraculous impression of the face of Christ, which she explained to me with great gravity. Her countenance was pale, but she had never experienced sickness; and I may adduce her as another proof how little is sufficient to maintain life and health.

At the printing-house I contracted an intimacy with a sensible young man of the name of Wygate, who, as his parents were in good circumstances, had received a better education than is common with printers. He was a tolerable Latin scholar, spoke French fluently, and was fond of reading.—I taught him, as well as a friend of his, to swim, by taking them twice only into the river; after which they stood in need of no farther assistance. We one day made a party to go by water to Chel­sea [Page 76] in order to see the College, and Don Soltero's curiosities. On our return, at the request of the company, whose curiosity Wygate had excited, I undressed myself, and leaped into the river. I swam from near Chelsea the whole way to Black, friars Bridge, exhibiting, during my course, a varie­ty of feats of activity and address, both upon the surface of the water, as [...]ell as under it. This sight occasioned much astonishment and pleasure to those to whom it was new. In my youth I took great delight in this exercise. I knew, and could execute, all the evolutions and positions of The▪ venot; and I added to them some of my own in­vention, in which I endeavoured to unite grace­fulness and utility. I took a pleasure in displaying them all on this occasion, and was highly flattered with the admiration they excited.

Wygate, besides his being desirous of perfecting himself in this art, was the more attached to me from there being, in other respects, a conformity in our tastes and studies. He at length proposed to me to make the tour of Europe with him, main­taining ourselves at the same time by working [...] our profession. I was on the point of consenting, when I mentioned it to my friend Denham, with whom I was glad to pass an hour whenever I had leisure. He dissuaded me from the project, and advised me to return to Philadelphia, which he was about to do himself. I must relate in this place▪ a trait of this worthy man's character.

He had formerly been in business at Bristol, but failing, he compounded with his creditors, and de­parted for America, where, by assiduous applica­tion as a merchant, he acquired in a few years a very considerable fortune. Returning to England [Page 77] in the same vessel with myself, as I have related above, he invited all his old creditors to a feast. When assembled, he thanked them for the readiness with which they had received his small composition; and, while they expected nothing more than a sim­ple entertainment, each found under his plate, when it came to be removed, a draft upon a banker for the residue of his debt, with interest.

He told me it was his intention to carry back with him to Philadelphia a great quantity of goods, in order to open a store; and he offered to take me with him in the capacity of clerk, to keep his books, in which he would instruct me, copy let­ters, and superintend the store. He added, that, as soon as I had acquired a knowledge of mercan­tile transactions, he would improve my situation, by sending me with a cargo of corn and flour to the American islands, and by procuring me other lucrative commissions; so that, with good manage­ment and oeconemy, I might in time begin business with advantage for myself.

I relished these proposals. London began to tire me; the agreeable hours I had passed at Phi­ladelphia presented themselves to my mind, and I wished to see them revive. I consequently engag­ed myself to Mr. Denham, at a salary of fifty pounds a year. This was indeed less than I earned as a compositor, but then I had a much fairer prospect. I took leave, therefore, as I believed forever, of printing, and gave myself up entirely to my new occupation, spending all my time either in going from house to house with Mr. Denham to purchase goods, or in packing them up, or in expediting the workmen, &c. &c. When every thing however was on board, I had at last a few days leisure.

[Page 78] During this interval, I was one day sent for by a Gentleman, whom I knew only by name, It was Sir William Wyndham. I went to his house. He had by some means heard of my performances be­tween Chelsea and Blackfriars, and that I had taught the art of swimming to Wygate and ano­ther young man in the course of a few hours. His two sons were on the point of setting out on their travels; [...] was desirous that they should previously learn to swim, and offered me a very liberal reward if I would undertake to instruct them. They were not yet arrived in town, and the stay I should make my­self was uncertain; I could not therefore accept his proposal. I was led however to suppose from this in­cident, that if I had wished to remain in London and open a swimming-school, I should perhaps have gained a great deal of money. This idea struck me so forcibly, that, had the offer been made sooner, I should have dismissed the thought of returning as yet to America. Some years after, you and I had a more important business to settle with one of the sons of Sir William Wyndham, then Lord Egremont. But let us not anticipate events.

I thus passed about eighteen months in London, working almost without intermission at my trade, avoiding all expence on my own account, except going now and then to the play, and purchasing a few books. But my friend Ralph kept me poor. He owed me about twenty-seven pounds, which was so much money lost; and when considered as taken from my little savings, was a very great sum. I had, notwithstanding this, a regard for him, as he possessed many amiable qualities. But though I had done nothing for myself in point of fortune, I had increased my stock of knowledge, either by [Page 79] the many excellent books I had read, or the con­versation of learned and literary persons with whom I was acquainted.

We sailed from Gravesend the 23d of July 1726. For the incidents of my voyage I refer you to my Journal, where you will find all the circumstances minutely related. We landed at Philadelphia on the 11th of the following October.

Keith had been deprived of his office of gover­nor, and was succeeded by Major Gordon. I met him walking in the streets as a private individual. He appeared a little ashamed at seeing me, but passed on without saying any thing.

I should have been equally ashamed myself at meeting Miss Read, had not her family, justly de­spairing of my return after reading my letter, advis­ed her to give me up, and marry a potter, of the name of Rogers; to which she consented; but he never made her happy, and she soon separated from him, refusing to cohabit with him, or even bear his name, on account of a report which prevailed, of his having another wife. His skill in his profes­sion had seduced Miss Read's parents; but he was as bad a subject as he was excellent as a workman. He involved himself in debt, and fled, in the year 1727 or 1728, to the West Indies, where he died.

During my absence Keimer had taken a more considerable house, in which he kept a shop, that was well supplied with paper, and various other articles. He had procured some new types, and a number of workmen; among whom, however, there was not one who was good for any thing; and he appeared not to want business.

Mr. Denham took a warehouse in Water-street, where we exhibited our commodities. I applied [Page 80] myself closely, studied accounts, and became [...] short time very expert in trade. We lodged and eat together. He was sincerely attached to me and acted towards me as if he had been my father▪ On my side, I respected and loved him. My [...] ­ation was happy; but it was a happiness of no long duration.

Early in February 1727, when I entered in [...] my twenty second year, we were both taken [...] I was attacked with a pleurisy, which had near [...] carried me off; I suffered terribly, and consider [...] it as all over with me. I felt indeed a sort of dis­appointment when I found myself likely to rece­ver, and regretted that I had still to experience sooner or later, the same disagreeable scene a­gain.

I have forgotten what was Mr. Denham's dis [...] ­der; but it was a tedious one, and he at last [...] under it. He left me a small legacy in his [...] as a testimony of his friendship; and I was [...] more abandoned to myself in the wide world; the warehouse being confided to the care of the te [...] ­mentary executor, who dismissed me.

My brother-in-law, Holmes, who happened [...] be at Philadelphia, advised me to return to [...] former profession, and Keimer offered me a [...] considerable salary if I would undertake the [...] ­nagement of his printing-office, that he might de­vote himself entirely to the superintendance of [...] shop. His wife and relations in London had giv [...] me a bad character of him; and I was loath, [...] the present, to have any concern with him. I [...] deavoured to get employment as a clerk to a mer­chant; but not readily finding a situation, I [...] induced to accept Keimer's proposal.

[Page 81] The following were the persons I found in his printing-house:

Hugh Meredith, a Pennsylvanian, about thirty­five years of age. He had been brought up to husbandry, was honest, sensible, had some experi­ence, and was fond of reading; but too much addict­ed to drinking.

Stephen Potts, a young rustic, just broke from school, and of rustic education, with endowments rather above the common order, and a competent portion of understanding and gaiety; but a little idle. Keimer had engaged these two at very low wages, which he had promised to raise every three months a shilling a week, provided their improve­ment in the typographic art should merit it. This future increase of wages was the bait he made use of to ensnare them. Meredith was to work at the press, and Potts to bind books, which he had en­gaged to teach them, though he understood neither himself.

John Savage, an Irishman, who had been brought up to no trade, and whose service, for a period of four years, Keimer had purchased of the captain of a ship. He was also to be a pressman.

George Webb, an Oxford scholar, whose time he had in like manner bought for four years, inten­ding him for a compositor. I shall speak more of him presently.

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

I soon perceived that Keimer's intention, in en­gaging me at a price so much above what he was accustomed to give, was, that I might form all these raw journeymen, and apprentices who s [...]arcely cost him any thing, and who, being len­tured, [Page 82] would as soon as they should be sufficiently instructed, enable him to do without me. I never­theless adhered to my agreement. I put the office in order, which was in the utmost confusion, and brought his people, by degrees, to pay attention to their work, and to execute it in a more masterly manner.

It was singular to see an Oxford scholar in the condition of a purchased servant. He was [...] more than eighteen years of age; and the follow­ing are the particulars he gave me of himself Born at Gloucester, he had been educated at a grammar school, and had distinguished himself among the scholars by his superior style of acting when they represented dramatic performance▪ 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 Oxford, where he remained about a year; but he was not content­ed, and wished above all things to see London, and become an actor. At length, having received fif­teen guineas to pay his quarter's board, he deca [...] ­ed with the money from Oxford, hid his gown in a hedge, and travelled to London. There, having no friend to direct him, he fell into bad company, soon squandered his fifteen guineas, could find no way of being introduced to the actors, became con­temptible, pawned his clothes, and 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 whoever was disposed to serve in America. He instantly repaired to the house of rendezvous, [...] [Page 83] listed himself, was put on board a ship and con­veyed to America, without ever writing to inform his parents what was become of him. His mental vivacity, and good natural disposition, made him an excellent companion; but he was indolent, thought­less, and to the last degree imprudent.

John, the Irishman, soon ran away. I began to live very agreeably with the rest. They respected me, and the more so as they found Keimer incapa­ble of instructing them, and as they learned some­thing from me every day. We never worked on a Saturday, it being Keimer's sabbath; so that I had two days a week for reading.

I increased my acquaintance with persons of knowledge and information in the town. Keimer himself treated me with great civility and apparent esteem; and I had nothing to give me uneasiness but my debt to Vernon, which I was unable to pay, my savings as yet being very little. He had the goodness, however, not to ask me for the money.

Our press was frequently in want of the necessary quantity of letter; and there was no such trade as that of letter-founder in America. I had seen the practice of this art at the house of James, in Lon­don; but had at the same time paid it very little attention. I however contrived to fabricate a mould. I made use of such letters as we had for punches, [...]ounded new letters of lead in matrices of clay, and thus supplied, in a tolerable manner, the wants that were most pressing.

I also, upon occasion, engraved various orna­ments, made ink, gave an eye to the shop; in short, I was in every respect the factotum. But useful as I made myself, I perceived that my services became [Page 84] every day of less importance, in proportion at the other men improved; and when Keimer paid [...] my second quarter's wages, he gave me to under­stand that they were too heavy, and that he thought I ought to make an abatement. He became by degrees less civil, and assumed more the tone of master. He frequently found fault, was difficult [...] please, and seemed always on the point of coming to an open quarrel with me.

I continued, however, to bear it patiently, [...] ­ceiving that his ill-humour was partly occasi [...] by the derangement and embarrassment of his [...] fairs. At last a slight incident broke our co [...] ­tion. Hearing a noise in the neighbourhood, I [...] my head out of the window to see what was the matter. Keimer being in the street, observed [...] and in a loud and angry tone told me to [...] work; adding some reproachful words, which [...] ­qued me the more as they were uttered in the street; and the neighbours, whom the [...] noise had attracted to the windows, were witness­es of the manner in which I was treated. He immediately came up to the printing-room, and continued to exclaim against me. The [...] became warm on both sides, and he gave me [...] ­tice to quit him at the expiration of three months as had been agreed between us; regretting [...] he was obliged to give me so long a term. I tell him that his regret was superfluous, as I was ready to quit him instantly; and I took my hat [...] came out of the house, begging Meredith to take care of some things which I left, and bring the [...] [...] my lodgings.

Meredith came to me in the evening. We talk­ed for some time upon the quarrel that had [...] [Page 85] place. He had conceived a great veneration for me, and was sorry I should quit the house while he remained in it. He dissuaded me from returning to my native country, as I began to think of doing. He reminded me that Keimer owed more than he possessed; that his creditors began to be alarmed; that he kept his shop in a wretched slate, often selling things at prime cost for the sake of ready money, and continually giving credit without keep­ing any accounts; that of consequence he must very soon fail, which would occasion a vacancy from which I might derive advantage. I objected my want of money. Upon which he informed me that his father had a very high opinion of me, and, from a conversation that had passed between them, he was sure that he would advance whatever might be necessary to establish us, if I was willing to enter into partnership with him. "My time with Keimer," added he, "will be at an end next spring. In the mean time we may send to Lon­don for our press and types. I know that I am no workman; but if you agree to the proposal, your skill in the business will be balanced by the capital I will furnish, and we will share the profits equally." His proposal was reasonable, and I fell in [...] it. His father, who was then in the town, approved of it. He knew that I had some ascen­dency over his son, as I had been able to prevail on him to abstain a long time from drinking bran­dy; and he hoped that, when more closely con­nected with him, I should cure him entirely of this unfortunate habit.

I gave the father a list of what it would be ne­cessary to import from London. He took it to a merchant, and the order was given. We agreed [Page 86] to keep the secret till the arrival of the materials and I was in the mean time to procure work, if pos­sible, in another printing-house; but there was no place vacant, and I remained idle. After some days▪ Keimer having the expectation of being employed to print some New-Jersey money-bills, that would require types and engravings which I only could furnish, and fearful that Bradford, by engaging me might deprive him of the undertaking, sent me a very civil message, telling me that old friends ought not to be disunited on account of a few words, which were the effect only of a momentary passion, and inviting me to return to him. Meredith per­suaded me to comply with the invitation, particu­larly as it would afford him more opportunities [...] improving himself in the business by means of any instructions. I did so, and we lived upon better terms than before our separation.

He obtained the New-Jersey business; and, it order to execute it, I constructed a copper-plate printing-press; the first that had been seen in the country. I engraved various ornaments and vig­nettes for the bills; and we repaired to Burlington together, where I executed the whole to the gene­ral satisfaction; and he received a sum of money for this work, which enabled him to keep his head above water for a considerable time longer.

At Burlington I formed acquaintance with the principal personages of the province; many [...] whom were commissioned by the assembly to su­perintend the press, and to see that no more [...] were printed than the law had prescribed. Ac­cordingly they were constantly with us, each in his turn; and he that came commonly brought [...] him a friend or two to bear him company. [...] [Page 87] 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 common modes of life; apt to oppose with rudeness generally 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 Bus­ [...], secretary of the province, Isaac Pearson, Joseph Cooper, several of the Smiths, all members of the assembly, and Isaac Deacon, inspector general. The last was a shrewd and subtle old [...]. 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 till he was somewhat advanced in life; that he was afterwards employ­ed as an underling to a surveyor, who taught him his trade, and that by industry he had at last acquired a competent fortune, "I fore [...]" 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 ig­norant at the time of my intention of establishing myself there, or any where else. These friends were very serviceable to me in the end, as was I also, upon occasion, to some of them; and they have continued ever since their esteem for me.

Before I relate the particulars of my entrance into business, it may be proper to inform you what [Page 88] was at that time the state of my mind as to moral principles, that you may see the degree on influence they had upon the subsequent events of my life.

My parents had given me betimes religious im­pressions; and I received from my infancy a pious education in the principles of Calvinism. But scarcely was I arrived at fifteen years of age, when, after having doubted in turn of different tenets, according as I found them combated in the differ­ent books that I read, I began to doubt of revela­tion itself. Some volumes against deism fell into my hands. They were said to be the substance of sermons preached at Boyle's Lecture. It hap­pened that they produced on me an effect precise­ly the reverse of what was intended by the writers; for the arguments of the deists, which were cited in order to be refuted, appeared to me much more forcible than the refutation itself. In a word, I soon became a perfect deist. My arguments per­verted some other young persons; particularly Collins and Ralph. But in the sequel, when I recollected that they had both used me extremely ill, without the smallest remorse; when I consi­dered the behaviour of Keith, another freethinker, and my own conduct towards Vernon and Miss Read, which at times gave me much uneasiness, I was led to suspect that this doctrine, though it might be true, was not very useful. I began to entertain a less favourable opinion of my London pamphlet, to which I had prefixed, as a motto, the following lines of Dryden;

Whatever is, is right; tho' purblind man
Sees but part of the chain, the nearest link,
His eyes not carrying to the equal beam
That poises all above.

[Page 89] and of which the object was [...] prove, from the attributes of God, his goodness, wisdom, and power that there could be no such thing as evil in the world; that vice and virtue did not in reality exist, and were nothing more than vain distinctions. I no longer regard­ed it as so blameless a work as I had formerly ima­gined; and I suspected that some error must have imperceptibly have glided into my argument, by all the inferences I had drawn from it had been af­fected, as it 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 life; and I resolved from that moment, and wrote the resolution in my [...]nal, to practise them as long as I lived.

Revelation indeed, as such, had no influence on my mind; but I was of opinion that, though cer­tain actions could not be bad merely because reve­lation prohibited them, or good because it enjoin­ed them, yet it was probable that those actions were prohibited because they were bad for us, or enjoin­ed because advantageous in their nature, all things considered. This persuasion, divine providence, or some guardian angel, and perhaps a concurrence of favourable 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 myself, among strangers, and at a distance from the eye and admonitions of my fa­ther. I may say voluntary, because the errors in­to which I had fallen, had been in a manner the [Page 90] forced result either of my own inexperience, or the dishonesty of others. Thus, before I entered [...] my new career. I had imbibed solid principles, and a character of probity. I knew their value; and I made a solemn engagement with myself never in 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 [...] with his own consent, before he had any know­ledge of our plan. We found a house to let new the market. We took it; and to render the [...] less burthensome (it was then twenty-four pou [...] a year, but I have since known it let for seve [...] [...] we admitted Thomas Godfrey, a glazier, with [...] fam [...] who eased us of a considerable part of [...] and with him we agreed to board.

We had no sooner unpacked our letter, and [...] our press in order, than a person of my acquaint­ance, George House, brought us a countryman whom he had met in the streets enquiring for [...] printer. Our money was almost exhausted by the number of things we had been obliged to procure. The five shillings we received from this country­man, the first fruit of our earnings, coming so sea­sonably, gave me more pleasure than any sum I have since gained; and the 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 encourage young beginners in trade.

There are in every country morose beings, who are always prognosticating ruin. There was [...] of this stamp in Philadelphia. He was a man of fortune, declined in years, had an air of wisdom [Page 91] and a very grave manner of speaking. His name was Samuel Mickle. I knew him not; but he stopped one day at my door, and asked me if I was the young man who had lately opened a new print­ing-house. Upon my answering in the affirmative, he said that he was very sorry for me, as it was an expensive undertaking; and the money that had been laid out upon it would be loft, 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 [...] us to suppose the contrary, such as new build­ [...], and the advanced price of rent, to be deceit­ [...] 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 take place, that he left me almost in a state of despair. Had I known this man before I entered into trade, I should doubtless never have ventured. He however continued to live in this place of de­cay, and to declaim in the same style, refusing for many years to buy a house, because all was going to wreck? and in the end I had the satisfaction to see him pay five times as much for one as it would cost him had he purchased it when he first began his lamentations.

I ought to have related, that, during the autumn of the preceding year, I had united the majority of well-informed persons of my acquaintance into a club, which we called by the name of the Junt [...], and the object of which was to improve our un­derstandings. We met every Friday evening. The regulations I drew up, obliged every member to propose, in his turn, one or more questions upon [Page 92] some point of morality, politics, or philosophy, which were to be discussed by the society; and to read, once in three months, an essay of his own composition, on whatever subject he pleased. Our debates were under the direction of a president, and were to be dictated only by a sincere desire of truth; the pleasure of disputing, and the va [...] ­ty of triumph having no share in the business and in order to prevent undue warmth, every ex­pression which implied obstinate adherence to [...] opinion, and all direct contradiction, were prohibi­ted, under small pecuniary penalties.

The first members of our club were Joseph Breintnal, whose occupation was that of a scri­vener. He was a middle-aged man, of a good natural disposition, strongly attached to his friends, a great lover of poetry, reading every thing that came in his way, and writing tolerably well, in­genious in many little trifles, and of an agreeable conversation.

Thomas Godfrey, a skilful, though self-taught mathematician, and who was afterwards the in­ventor of what now goes by the name of Hadley's dial; but he had little knowledge out of his own line, and was insupportable in company, always requiring, like the majority of mathematicians that have fallen in my way, an unusual precision in every thing that is said, continually contradict­ing, or making trifling distinctions; a sure way of defeating all the ends of conversation. He very soon left us.

Nicholas Scull, a surveyor, and who became afterwards surveyor-general. He was fond of books, and wrote verses.

[Page 93] William Parsons, brought up to the trade of a shoe-maker, but who, having a taste for reading, had acquired a profound knowledge of mathematics. He first studied them with a view to astrology, and was afterwards the first to laugh at his folly. He also became surveyor-general.

William Mawgridge, a joiner, and very excellent mechanic; and in other respects a man of solid un­derstanding.

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

Robert Grace, a young man of fortune; gene­rous, animated, and witty; fond of epigrams, but move fond of his friends.

And lastly, William Coleman, at that time a merchant's clerk, and nearly of my own age. He had a cooler and clearer head, a better heart, and more scrupulous morals, than almost any other person I have ever met with. He became a very respectable merchant, and one of our provincial judges. Our friendship subsisted, without inter­ruption, for more than forty years, till the period of his death; and the club continued to exist almost as long.

This was the best school of politics and philoso­phy that then existed in the province; for our questions, which were read a week previous to their discussion, induced us to peruse attentively such books as were written upon the subjects pro­posed, that we might be able to speak upon them more pertinently. We thus acquired the habit of conversing more agreeably; every object being discussed conformably to our regulations, and in a manner to prevent mutual disgust. To this cir­cumstance may be attributed the long duration of [Page 94] 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 Quakers, the print­ing of forty sheets of their history; of which the rest was to be done by Keimer. Our execution of this work was by no means masterly; as the price was very low. It was in folio, upon pro p [...] ­tria paper, and in the pica letter, with heavy notes in the smallest type. I composed a sheet a day, and Meredith put it to the press. It was frequent­ly eleven o'clock at night sometimes later, before I had finished my distribution for the next day's task; for the little things which our friends occa­sionally sent us, kept us back in this work: but I was so determined to compose a sheet a day, that one evening, when my form was imposed, and my day's work, as I thought, at an end, an acci­dent having broken this form, and arranged two complete folio pages, I immediately distributed, and composed them anew before I went to bed.

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 the subject of con­versation at a club of merchants, who met every evening, it was the general opinion that it would fail; there being already two printing-houses i [...] the town, Keimer's and Bradford's. But Dr. [...] whom you and I had occasion to see, many [...] after, at his native town of St. Andrew's in Scot [...] land was of a different opinion. "The industry [Page 95] of this Franklin (said he) is superior to any thing of the kind I have ever witnessed. I see him still at work when I return from the club at night, and he is at it again in the morning before his neigh­bours are out of bed." This [...] struck the [...]est of the assembly, and shortly after one of its members came to our house, and offered to supply [...] with articles of stationary; but we wished not [...] yet to embarrass ourselves with keeping a shop. It is not for the sake of applause that I enter so free­ly into the particulars of my industry, but that such of my descendants as shall read these memoirs may know the use of this virtue, by seeing in the recital of my life the effects it operated in my sa­ [...]our.

George Webb, having found a friend who lent him the necessary sum to buy out his time of Kei­mer, came one day to offer himself to us as a jour­neyman. We could not employ him immediately; but I foolishly told him, under the rose, that I in­ [...]ended shortly to publish a new periodical paper, and that we should then have work for him. My hopes of success, which I imparted to him, were founded on the circumstance, that the only paper we had in Philadelphia at that time, and which Brandford printed, was a paltry thing, 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 success. Webb betrayed my sec [...]et to Keimer, who, to prevent me, immediately published the prospectus of a paper that he intended to institute himself, and in which Webb was to be engaged.

I was exasperated at this proceeding, and, with a view to counteract them, not being able at present [Page 96] to institute my own paper, I wrote some humourous pieces in Bradford's, under the title of the Busy Body* and which was continued for several months by Breint [...]al. I hereby fixed the attention of the public upon Bradford's paper; and the prospectus of Keimer, which we turned into ridicule, was treated with contempt. He began, notwithstanding, [...] paper; and after continuing it for nine months, having at most not more than ninety subscribers, he offered it me for a mere trifle. I had for sometime been ready for such an engagement; I therefore instant [...] took it upon myself, and in a few years it proved extremely profitable to me.

I perceive that I am apt to speak in the first per­son, though our partnership still continued. It is, perhaps, because, in fact, the whole business devolved upon me. Meredith was no compositor, and but an indifferent pressman; and it was rarely that he abstained from hard drinking. My friends were sorry to see me connected with him; but I con­trived to derive from it the utmost advantage the case admitted.

Our first number produced no other effect than any other paper which had appeared in the pro­vince, as to type and printing; but some remarks, in my peculiar style of writing, upon the dispute which then prevailed between governor Burnet, and the Massachusett assembly, struck some persons as above mediocrity, caused the paper and its edi­tors to be talked of, and in a few weeks induced them to become our subscribers. Many others fol­lowed [Page 97] their example; and our subscription conti­nued to increase. This was one of the first good effects of the pains I had taken to learn to put my ideas on paper. I derived this farther advantage from it, that the leading men of the place, seeing in the author of this publication a man so well able to use his pen, thought it right to patronise and en­courage me.

The votes, laws, and other public pieces, were printed by Bradford. An address of the house of assembly to the governor had been executed 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 the following year.

Among these friends I ought not to forget one member in particular, Mr. Hamilton, whom I have mentioned in a former part of my narrative, and who was now returned from England. He warm­ly interested himself for me on this occasion, as he did likewise on many others afterwards; having continued his kindness to me till his death.

About this period Mr. Vernon reminded me of the debt I owed him, but without pressing me for payment. I wrote him a handsome letter on the occasion, begging him to wait a little longer, to which he consented; and as soon as I was able I paid him, principal and interest, with many expres­sions of gratitude; so that this error of my life was in a manner atoned for.

But another trouble now happened to me, which I had not the smallest reason to expect. Mere­dith's father, who, according to our agreement, [Page 98] was to defray the whole expence of our printing materials, had only paid a hundred pounds. As other hundred was still due, and the merchant be­ing tired of waiting, commenced a suit against [...] We bailed the action, but with the melanch [...] prospect, that, if the money was not forthcomi [...] at the time fixed, the affair would come to [...] judgment be put in execution, our delightful [...] be annihilated, and ourselves entirely ruined; as [...] types and press must be sold, perhaps at half their [...] ­lue, to pay the debt.

In this distress, two real friends, whose gener [...] conduct I have never forgotten, and never [...] forget while I retain the remembrance of any thi [...] came to me separately, without the knowledge [...] each other, and without my having applied to the [...] Each offered me whatever sum might be necessary to take the business into my own hands, if the thing was practicable, as they did not like I should continue in partnership with Meredith, who, [...] said, was frequently seen drunk in the streets, [...] gambling at ale-houses, which very much [...] our credit. These friends were William Cole [...] and Robert Grace. I told them that while [...] remained any probability that the Merediths [...] fulfil their part of the compact, I could not [...] ­pose a separation; as I conceived myself to be [...] ­der obligations to them for what they had [...] already, and were still disposed to do if they [...] the power: but in the end should they fail [...] their engagement, and our partnership be differ­ed, I should then think myself at liberty to [...] the kindness of my friends.

Things remained for some time in this [...] At last I said one day to my partner, "Your father [Page 99] is perhaps dissatisfied with your having a share only in the business, and is unwilling to do for two, what he would do for you alone. Tell me frankly if that be the case, and I will resign the whole to you, and do for myself as well as I can."—"No (said he) my father has really been disappointed in his hopes; he is not able to pay, and I wish to put him to no further inconvenience. I see that I am not at all calculated for a printer; I was edu­cated as a farmer, and it was absurd in me to come here, at thirty years of age, and bind myself apprentice to a new trade. Many of my country­men are going to settle in North-Carolina, where the soil is exceedingly favourable. I am tempted to go with them, and to resume my former occu­pation. You will doubtless find friends who [...] that 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."

I accepted this proposal without hesitation. It [...] committed to paper, and signed and sealed without delay. I gave him what he demanded and he departed soon after for Carolina, from whence he [...] me, in the following year, two long letters, co [...]ining the best accounts that had yet been given of that country, as to climate, soil, agriculture, &c. for he was well versed in these matters. I published them in my newspaper, and they were received with great satisfaction.

As soon as he was gone I applied to my two friends, and not wishing to give a disobliging pre­feren [...] to either of them, I accepted from each [Page 100] half what he had offered me, and which it [...] necessary I should have. I paid the partnership debts, and continued the business on my own ac­count; taking care to inform the public, by ad­vertisement, of the partnership being dissolved. This was, I think, in the year 1729, or ther [...] ­bout.

Nearly at the same period the people demanded a new emission of paper money: the existing and only one that had taken place in the province, and which amounted to fifteen thousand pound, be­ing soon to expire. The wealthy inhabita [...] prejudiced against every sort of paper curren [...] from the fear of its depreciation, of which th [...] had been an instance in the province of New En­gland, to the injury of its holders, strongly [...] ­sed the measure. We had discussed this affair [...] our junto, in which I was on the side of the [...] ­emission; convinced that the first small sum, fabri­cated in 1723, had done much good in the pro­vince, by favouring commerce, industry and popu­lation, since all the houses were now inhabi [...] and many others bulding; whereas I remembered to have seen, when first I paraded the streets of Philadelphia eating my roll, the majority of th [...] in Walnut-street, Second-street, Fourth-street, [...] well as a great number in Chesnut and other streets, with papers on them signifying that they were to be; let which made me think at the time that the inhabitants of the town were deserting [...] one after another.

Our debates made me so fully master of the [...] ­ject, that I wrote and published an anony [...] pamphlet, entitled An Enquiry into the [...] and Necessity of a Paper Currency. It was [...] [Page 101] well received by the lower and middling class of people; but it displeased the opulent, as it increas­ed the clamour in favour of the new emission.—Having, however, no writer among them capable of answering it, their opposition became less vio­lent; and their being in the house of assembly a majority for the measure, it passed. The friends I had acquired in the house, persuaded that I had done the country essential service on this occasion, rewarded me by giving me the printing of the bills. It was a lucrative 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 the utility of paper currency, that it never after expe­rienced any considerable opposition; so that it [...] amounted to 55,000l. and in the year 17 [...] 80,000l. It has since risen, during the last war, to 350,000l. trade, buildings and population ha­ving in the interval continually increased: but I am now convinced that there are limits beyond which paper money would be prejudicial.

I soon after obtained, by the influence of my friend Hamilton, the printing of the Newcastle paper money, another profitable work, as I then thought it, little things appearing great to persons of moderate fortune; and they were really great to me, as proving great encouragements. He also procured me the printing of the laws and votes of that government which I retained as long as I con­tinued in the business.

I now opened a small stationer's shop. I kept bonds and agreements of all kinds, drawn up in a more accurate form than had yet been seen in that [Page 102] part of the world; a work in which I was assisted by my friend Brientnal. I had also paper, par [...] ­ment, pasteboard, books, &c. One Whitema [...] an excellent compositor, whom I had known is London, came to offer himself. I engaged him and he continued constantly and diligently to [...] with me. I also took an apprentice, the son of Aquil [...] Rose.

I began to pay, by degrees, the debt I had contracted; and in order to insure my credit and character as a tradesman, I took care not only to be really industrious and frugal, but also to [...] every appearance of the contrary. I was plai [...] dressed, and never seen in [...]any place of public amusement. I never went a fishing or hunting. A book indeed enticed me sometimes from my work, but it was seldom, by stealth, and occasion­ed [...] scandal; and to show that I did not think myself above my profession, I conveyed home sometimes in a wheelbarrow the paper I purcha­sed at the warehouses.

I thus obtained the reputation of being an in­dustrious young man, and very punctual in his payments. The merchants who imported artic [...] of stationary solicited my custom; others offered [...] furnish me with books, and my little trade went [...] prosperously.

Meanwhile the credit and business of Keimer diminished every day, he was at last forced to [...] his stock to satisfy his creditors; and he bet [...] himself to Barbadoes, where he lived for some time in a very impoverished state. His appren­tice, David Harry, whom I had instructed wh [...] I worked with Keimer, having bought his ma [...] ­rials, succeeded him in the business. I was appre­hensive [Page 103] at first, of finding in Harry a powerful competitor, as he was allied to an opulent and respectable family; I therefore proposed a partner­ship, which, happily for me, he rejected with dis­da [...]. He was extremely proud, thought himself a fine gentleman, lived extravagantly, and pursu­ed amusements which suffered him to be scarcely ever at home; of consequence he became in debt neglected his business, and business neglected [...]. Finding in a short time nothing to do in the country, he followed Keimer to Barbadoes, carrying his printing materials with him. There the apprentice employed his old matter 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 to manage the business; but he died a few years after.

I had now at Philadelphia no competitor but Bradford, who, being in easy circumstances, did not engage in the printing of books, except now and then as workmen chanced to offer themselves; and was [...] [...]xious to extend his trade. He had, however, one advantage over me, as he had the direction of the post-office, and was of consequence supposed to have better opportunities of obtaining news. His paper was also supposed to be more advantageous to advertising customers; and in consequence of that supposition, his advertisements were much more numerous than mine; this was a source of great profit to him, and disadvantage­ous to me. It was to no purpose that I really pro­c [...]ed other papers, and distributed my own, by [Page 104] means of the post; the public took for granted my inability in this respect; and I was indeed unable to conquer it in any other mode than by bribing the post-boys, who served me only by stealth, Brad­ford being so illiberal as to forbid them.—Th [...] treatment of his excited my resentment; and [...] disgust was so rooted, that, when I afterwards succeeded him in the post-office, I took care to avoid copying his example.

I had hitherto continued to board with Godfrey who, with his wife and children, occupied part of my house, and half of the shop for his business▪ at which indeed he worked very little, being al­ways absorbed by mathematics. Mrs. Godfrey formed a wish of marrying me to the daughter [...] one of her relations. She contrived various op­portunities of bringing us together, till she [...] that I was captivated; which was not difficult the lady in question possessing great personal [...] ­rit. The parents encouraged my addresses, by in­viting me continually to supper, and leaving [...] together, till at last it was time to come to [...] explanation. Mrs. Godfrey undertook to negociate our little treaty. I gave her to understand, that I expected to receive with the young lady a sum of money that would enable me at least to dis­charge the remainder of my debt for my printing materials. It was then, I believe, not more than a hundred pounds. She brought me for answer, that they had no such sum at their disposal. I observed that it might easily be obtained, by a mortgage on their house. The reply of this was, after a few days interval, that they did not ap­prove of the match; that they had consulted Bradford, and found that the business of a printer [Page 105] was not lucrative; that my letters would soon be worn out, and must be supplied by new ones; that Keimer and Harry had failed, and that, probably, I should do so too. Accordingly they forbade me the house, and the young lady was confined. I know not if they had really changed their minds, or if it was merely an artifice, supposing our af­fections to be too far engaged for us to desist, and that we should contrive to marry secretly, which would leave them at liberty to give or not as they pleased. But, suspecting this motive, I never went again to their house.

Some time after Mrs. Godfrey informed me that they were favourably disposed towards me, and wished me to renew the acquaintance; but I de­clared a firm resolution never to have any thing more to do with the family. The Godfreys ex­pressed some resentment at this; and as we could no longer agree, they changed their residence, leaving me in possession of the whole house. I then resolved to take no more lodgers. This af­fair having turned my thoughts to marriage, I looked around me, and made overtures of alliance in other quarters; but I soon found that the pro­fession of a printer being generally looked upon as a poor trade, I could expect no money with a wife at least if I wished her to possess any other charm. Meanwhile, that passion of youth, so difficult to govern, had often drawn me into in­trigues with despicable women who fell in my way; which were not unaccompanied with ex­pence and inconvenience, besides the perpetual risk of injuring my health, and catching a disease which I dreaded above all things. But I was for­tunate enough to escape this danger.

[Page 106] As a neighbour and old acquaintance, I kept up a friendly intimacy with the family of Miss Re [...]. Her parents had rétained an affection for me from the time of my lodging in their house. I was of­ten invited thither; they consulted me about their affairs, and I had been sometimes serviceable to them. I was touched with the unhappy situation of their daughter, who was almost always melan­choly, and continually seeking solitude. I regard­ed my forgetfulness and inconstancy, during up abode in London, as the principal cause of his misfortune; though her mother had the cand [...] to attribute the fault to herself, rather than to [...] because, after having prevented our marriage pre­vious to my departure, she had induced her to [...] another in my absence.

Our mutual affection revived; but there [...] great obstacles to our union. Her marriage was considered, indeed, as not being valid, the [...] having, it was said, a former wife still living [...] England; but of this it was difficult to obtain [...] proof at so great a distance: and though a [...] prevailed of his being dead, yet we had no [...] ­tainty of it; and supposing it to be true, he [...] left many debts, for the payment of which his [...] ­cessor might be sued. We ventured neverthe­less, in spite of all these difficulties, and I [...] her on the first of September 1730. None [...] inconveniences we had feared happened to [...] She proved to me a good and faithful compa [...] and contributed essentially to the success of [...] shop. We prospered together, and it was [...] mutual study to render each other happy. [...] I corrected, as well as I could, this great error [...] my youth.

[Page 107] Our club was not at that time established at a tavern. We held our meetings at the house of Mr. Grace, who appropriated a room to the pur­pose. Some members observed one day, that as our books were frequently quoted in the course of our discussions, it would be convenient to have them collected in the room in which we assembled, in order to be consulted upon occasion; and that, by thus forming a common library of our indivi­dual collections, each would have the advantage of using the books of all the other members, which would nearly be the same as if he possessed them all himself. The idea was approved, and we ac­cordingly brought such books as we thought we could spare, which were placed at the end of the club-room. They amounted not to so many as we expected; and though we made considerable use of them, yet some inconveniences resulting, from want of care, it was agreed, after about a year, to destroy the collection; and each took away such books as belonged to him.

It was now that I first started the idea of establish­ing by subscription, a public library. I drew up the proposals, had them ingrossed in form by Brock­den the attorney, and my project succeeded, as will be seen in the sequel **************

[The life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself, so far as it has yet been communicated to the world, breaks off in this place. We understand that it wa [...] continued by him somewhat further and we hope that the remainder will, at some future period, be communicated to the public. We have no hesita­tion in supposing that every reader will find himself greatly interested by the frank simplicity and the [Page 108] philosophical discernment by which these pages are so eminently characterised. We have therefore thought proper, in order as much as possible to relieve his regret, to subjoin the following conti­nuation, by one of the doctor's intimate friends. It is extracted from an American periodical publi­cation, and was written by the late Dr. Stuber* of Philadelphia.]

THE promotion of literature had been little attended to in Pennsylvania. Most of the inha­bitants were too much immersed in business to think of scientific pursuits; and those few, whose inclinations led them to study, found it difficult to gratify them, from the want of sufficiently large [Page 109] libraries. 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." Several other companies were formed in this city in imitation of it. These were all at length united with the li­brary company of Philadelphia, which thus receiv­ed a considerable accession of books and property. It now contains about eight thousand volumes on all subjects, a philosophical apparatus, and a good beginning towards a collection of natural and arti­ficial curiosities, besides landed property of consi­derable value. The company have lately built an elegant house in Fifth-street, in the front of which will be erected a marble statue of their foun­der, Benjamin Franklin.

This institution was greatly encouraged by the friends of Literature in America and in Great Britain. The Penn family distinguished them­selves by their donations. Amongst the earliest friends of this institution must be mentioned the late Peter Collinson, the friend and correspondent of Dr. Franklin. He not only made considerable presents himself, and obtained others from his friends, but voluntarily undertook to manage the business of the company in London, recommend­ing books, purchasing and shipping them. His extensive knowledge, and zeal for the promotion of science, enabled him to execute this impor­tant trust with the greatest advantage. He con­tinued to perform these services for more than [Page 110] thirty years, and uniformly refused to accept of any compensation: During this time, he commu­nicated to the directors every information relative to improvements and discoveries in the arts, agricul­ture, and philosophy.

The beneficial influence of this institution was soon evident. The cheapness of terms rendered it accessible to every one. Its advantages were not confined to the opulent. The citizens in the middle and lower walks of life were equally par­takers of them. Hence a degree of information was extended amongst all classes of people, which is very unusual in other places. The example was soon followed. Libraries were established [...] 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 security for maintaining our liberties. A nation of well-informed men, who have been taught to know and prize the rights which God has given them cannot be enslaved. It is in the regions of ignorance that tyranny reigns. It [...] before the light of science. Let the citizens of America, then, encourage institutions calcula­ted to diffuse knowledge amongst the people; and amongst these, public libraries are not the [...] important.

In 1732, Franklin began to publish Poor Rich­ard's Almanack. This was remarkable for the numerous and valuable concise maxims which i [...] contained, all tending to exhort to industry and frugality. It was continued for many years. In the almanack for the last year, all the maxims [Page 111] were collected in an address to the reader, entitled, The Way to Wealth. This has been translated in various languages, and inserted in different publications. It has also been printed on a large sheet, and may be seen framed in many houses in this city. This address contains, perhaps the best practical system of oeconomy that ever has appear­ed. It is written in a manner intelligible to every one, and which cannot fail of convincing every reader of the justice and propriety of the remarks and advice which it contains. The demand for this almanack was so great, that ten thousand have been sold in one year; which must be considered as a very large number, especially when we reflect, that this country was, at that time, but thinly peopled. It cannot be doubted that the salutary maxims contained in these almanacks must have made a favourable impression upon many of the readers of them.

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

Bradford was possessed of some advantages over Franklin, by being post-master, thereby having an opportunity of circulating [...] paper more exten­sively, and thus rendering it a better vehicle for advertisements, &c. Franklin, in his turn, enjoy­ed these advantages, by being appointed post-mas­ter of Philadelphia in 1737. Bradford, while in office, had acted ungenerously towards Franklin, preventing as much as possible the circulation of his paper. He had now an opportunity of retalia­ting; [Page 112] but his nobleness of soul prevented him from making use of it.

The police of Philadelphia had early appointed watchmen, whose duty it was to guard the citi­zens against the midnight robber, and to give an immediate alarm in case of fire. This duty is, per­haps, one of the most important that can be com­mitted to any set of men. The regulations, how­ever, were not sufficiently strict. Franklin saw the dangers arising from this cause, and suggested an alteration, so as to oblige the guardians of the night to be more watchful over the lives and pro­perty of the citizens. The propriety of this was immediately perceived, and a reform was affect­ed.

There is nothing more dangerous to growing cities than fires. Other causes operate slowly, and almost imperceptibly; but these in a moment render abortive the labours of ages. On this ac­count there should be, in all cities, ample provisi­ons to prevent fires from spreading. Franklin early saw the necessity of these; and, about the year 17 [...]8, formed the first fire-company in this city. Th [...] example was soon followed by others; and there [...] now numerous fire-companies in the city and liberties. To these may be attributed in a great degree the activity in extinguishing fires, for which th [...] citizens of Philadelphia are distinguished, and the inconsiderable damage which this city has sustained from this cause.—Some time after, Franklin suggested the plan of an association for insuring houses from losses by fire, which was adopted; and the association con­tinues to this day. The advantages experienced from it have been great.

[Page 113] From the first establishment of Pennsylvania, a spirit of dispute appears to have prevailed amongst its inhabitants. During the life-time of William Penn, the constitution had been three times alter­ed. After this period, the History of Pennsylva­nia is little else than a recital of the quarrels be­tween the proprietaries▪ or their governors, and the assembly. The proprietaries contended for the right of exempting their land from taxes; [...] which the assembly would by no means consent. This subject of dispute interfered in almost every question, and prevented the most salutary laws from being enacted. This at times subjected the people to great inconveniences. In the year 1744, during a war between France and Great Britain, some French and Indians had made inroads upon the frontier inhabitants of the province, who were unprovided for such an attack. It became necessary that the citizens should arm for their de­fence. Governor Thomas recommended to the assembly, who were then sitting to pass a militia law. To this they would agree only upon co [...] ­tion that he should give his assent to certain laws, which appeared to them calculated to promote the interest of the people. As he thought these laws would be injurious to the proprietaries, he refused his assent to them; and the assembly broke up without passing a militia [...] The situation of the province was at this time truly alarming: ex­posed, to the continual inroads of an enemy, and destitute of every means of defence. At this crisis Franklin stepped forth, and proposed to a meeting of the citizens of Philadelphia, a plan of a voluntary association for the defence of the pro­vince. This was approved of, and signed by twelve hundred persons immediately. [Page 114] Copies of it were circulated throughout the pro­vince; and in a short time the number of signers amounted to ten thousand. Franklin was chosen co­lonel of the Philadelphia regiment; but he did not think proper to accept of the honour.

Pursuits of a different nature now occupied the greatest part of his attention for some years. He engaged in a course of electrical experiments, with all the ardor and thirst for discovery which cha­racterized the philosophers of that day. Of all the branches of experimental philosophy, electricity had been least explored. The attractive power of amber is mentioned by Theophrastus and [...]liny, and, from them, by later naturalists. In the year 1600, Gilbert, an English physician, enlarged con­siderably the catalogue of substances which have the property of attracting light bodies. Boyle, Otto Guericke, a burgomaster of Magdeburg, ce­lebrated as the inventor of the air pump, Dr. Wall, and Sir Isaac Newton added some facts. Guericke first observed the repulsive power of electricity, and the light and noise produced by [...]. In 1709 Hawkesbec communicated some impor­tant observations and experiments to the world. For several years electricity was entirely neglect­ed, until Mr. Gray applied himself to it, in 1728, with great assiduity, He, and his friend Mr. Wheeler, made a great variety of experiments; in which they demonstrated, that electricity may be communicated from one body to another, even without being in contact, and in this way may be conducted to a great distance. Mr. Gray af­terwards found, that, by suspending rods of iron by silk or hair lines, and bringing an excited tube under them, sparks might be drawn, and a light [Page 115] perceived at the extremities in the dark. M. Du Faye, intendant of the French King's gardens, made a number of experiments, which added not a little to the science. He made the discovery of two kinds of electricity, which he called vitreous and resinous; the former produced by rubbing glass, the latter from excited sulphur, sealing-wax, &c. But this idea he afterwards gave up as erronious. Between the years 1739 and 1742, Desaguliers [...] a number of experiments, but added little of importance. He first used the terms conductors and electrics, per se. In 1742, several ingenious Ger­mans engaged in the subject. Of these the prin­cipal were, professor Boze of Wittembergh, pro­fessor Winkler of Leipfic, Gordon, a Scotch Bene­dictine monk, professor of philosophy at Erfurt, and Dr. Ludolf [...] Berlin. The result of their researches astonished the philosophers of Europe. Their apparatus was large, and by means of it they were enabled to collect large quantities of electricity, and thus to produce phenomena which had been hitherto unobserved. They killed small birds, and set spirits on fire. Their experiments ex­cited the c [...]sity of other philosophers. Collinson, about the year 1745, sent to the library company of Philadelphia an account of these experiments, together with a tube, and directions how to use it. Franklin, with some of his friends, immediately engaged in a course of experiments; the result of which is well known. He was enabled to make a number of important discoveries, and to propose theories to account for various phenomena; which have been universally adopted, and which bid fair to endure for ages. His observations he commu­nicated, in a series of letters, to his friend Collin­son; the first of which is dated March 28, 1747. In [Page 116] these he makes known the power of points in d [...] ­ing and throwing off the electrical matter, which had hitherto escaped the notice of electricians. He also made the grand discovery of a plus and minus, or of a positive and negative state of electricity. We gave him the honour of this, without hesita­tion; although the English have claimed it for their countryman Dr. Watson. Watson's paper is dated January 21, 1748; Franklin's July 11, 1747; several months prior. Shortly after, Frank­lin from his principles of plus and minus state, ex­plained, in a satisfactory manner, the phenomena of the Leyden phial, first observed by Mr. [...], or by professor Mus [...]henbroeck of Leyden, which had much perplexed philosophers. He shewed clearly that the bottle, when charged, contained no more electricity [...] before, but that as much was taken from the one [...] as was throw [...] on the other; and that, to discharge it, nothing was necessary but to make a communication be­tween the two sides, by which the equilibrium might be restored, and that then no signs of electri­city would remain. He afterwards demonstrated, by experiments, that the electricity did not reside in the coating, as had been supposed, but in the [...] of the glass itself. After a phial was charged [...] removed the coating, and found that upon apply­ing a new coating the shock might still be received. In the year 1749, he first suggested his idea of explaining the phenomena of thunder-gusts, and of the aurora borealis, upon electrical principles. He points [...]ut many particulars in which lightning and electricity agree; and he adduces many facts, and reasoning from facts, in support of his positions. In the same year he conceived the astonishingly [Page 117] bold and grand idea of ascertaining the truth of his doctrine, by actually drawing down the forked light­ning, by means of sharp pointed iron rods raised into the region of the clouds. Even in this un­certain state, his passion to be useful to mankind displays itself in a powerful manner. Admitting the identity of electricity and lightning, and know­ing the power of points in repelling bodies charged with electricity, and in conducting their fire silent­ly and imperceptibly, he suggests the idea of se­curing houses, ships, &c. from being damaged by lightning, by erecting pointed iron rods, which should rise some feet above the most elevated part, and descend some feet into the ground or the wa­ter. The effect of these, he concluded, would be either to prevent [...] stroke by repelling the cloud beyond the strik [...] [...] distance, or by drawing off the electrical fire which it contained; or, if they could not effect this, they would at least conduct the stroke to the earth, without any injury to the building.

It was not until the summer of 1752, that he was enabled to complete his grand and un­paralleled discovery by experiment. The plan which he had originally proposed, was, to erect [...] some high tower, or other elevated place, a [...]entry-box, from which should rise a pointed iron rod, insulated by being fixed in a cake of resin. Electrified clouds passing over this, would [...] conceived, impart to it a portion of their [...], which would be rendered evi­dent [...] by sparks being emitted, when a key, a [...], or other conductor, was presented to it, Philadelphia at this time afforded no op­portunity of trying an experiment of this kin [...]. [Page 118] Whilst Franklin was waiting for the erection of a spire, it occurred to him, that he might have more ready access to the region of clouds by means of a common kite. He prepared one by attaching two cross sticks to a silk handkerchief, which would not suffer so much from the rain as paper. To his upright stick was affixed an iron point. The string was, as usual, of hemp, except the low­er end, which was silk. Where the hempen string terminated, a key was fastened. With this appa­ratus, on the appearance of a thunder-gust ap­proaching, he went into the commons, accom­panied by his son, to whom alone he communicated his intentions, well knowing the ridicule which, too generally for the interest of science, awaits unsuccessful experiments in philosophy. He plac­ed himself under a shed to [...] the rai [...]. His kite was raised. A thunder clo [...] 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 the fate of his theory. If he succeeded, his name would rank▪ high amongst those who have 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 easily be conceived. Doubts and despair had begun to prevail, when the fact was ascertained in so clear a manner, that even the most incredulous could no longer with­hold [Page 119] their assent. Repeated sparks were drawn from the key, a vial was charged, a shock given, and all the experiments made, which are usually performed with electricity.

About a month before this period, some inge­nious Frenchmen had completed the discovery, in the manner originally proposed by Dr. Franklin. The letters which he sent to Mr. Collinson, it is said, were refused a place amongst the papers of the Royal Society of London. However this may be, Collinson published them in a separate vo­lume, under the title of New Experiments and Ob­servations on Electricity, made at Philadelphia in America. They were read with avidity, and soon translated into different languages. A very incor­rect French translation fell into the hands of the celebrated Buffon, who notwithstanding the dis­advantages under which the work laboured, was much pleased with it, and repeated the experiments with success. He prevailed upon his friend, M. D'Alibard, to give his countrymen a more correct translation of the work 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 Duc D'Aven, at St. Germain, by M. De Lor. The applauses which the King bestowed upon Franklin, excited in Buffon, D'Alibard, and De Lor, an earnest desire of ascertaining the truth of his theory of thunder-gusts. Buffon, erected his ap­paratus on the tower of Montbar. M. D'Alibard at Mary-la-ville, and De Lor at his house in the Estrapade at Paris, some of the highest ground in [Page 120] that capital. D'Alibard's machine first shewed signs of electricity. On the 10th of May, 1752, a thunder-cloud passed over it, in the absence of M. D'Alibard; and a number of sparks were drawn from it by Coiffier, a joiner, with whom D'Alibard had left directions how to proceed, and by M. Rau­let, the prior of Mary-la-ville. An account of this experiment was given to the Royal Academy of Sciences, in a memoir by M. D'Alibard, dated May 13th, 1752. On the 18th of May, M. De Lor proved equally successful with the apparatus erect­ed at his own house. These discoveries soon ex­cited the philosophers of other parts of Europe to repeat the experiment. Amongst these, none signa­lized themselves more than Father Becaria of Tu­rin, to whose observations science is much indebt­ed. Even the cold regions of Russia were penetra­ted by the ardour for discovery. Professor Richman bade fair to add much to the stock of knowledge on this subject, when an unfortunate flash from his rod put a period to his existence. The friends of science will long remember with regret the admirable martyr to electricity.

By these experiments Franklin's theory was established in the most firm manner. When the truth of it could no longer be doubted, the vanity of men endeavoured to detract from its merit. That an American, an inhabitant of the obscure city of Philadelphia, the name of which was hardly known, should be able to make disco­veries, and to frame theories, which had escaped the notice of the enlightened philosophers of Eu­rope was too mortifying to be admitted. He must certainly have taken the idea from somebody else. An American, a being of inferior order, make [Page 121] discoveries! Impossible. It was said, that the Abbe Nollet, in 1748, had suggested the idea of the similarity of lightning and electricity, in his Lecons de Physique. It is true, that the Abbe mentions the idea, but he throws it out as a bare conjec­ture, and proposes no mode of ascertaining the truth of it. He himself acknowledges, that Frank­lin first entertained the bold thought of bringing lightning from the heavens, by means of pointed rods fixed in the air. The similarity of electricity and lightning 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, while the science was in its infancy. But the honour of forming a regular theory of thunder-gusts, of sug­gesting a mode of determining the truth of it by experiments, and of putting these experiments in practice, and thus establishing his theory upon a firm and solid basis, is incontestibly due to Franklin. D'Alibard, who made the experiments in France, says, that he only followed the track which Franklin had pointed out.

It has been of late asserted, that the honour of completing the experiment with the electrical kite, does not belong to Franklin. Some late English paragraphs have attributed it to some Frenchman, whose name they do not mention; and the Abbe Bertholon gives it to M. De Romas, assessor to the presideal of Nerac; the English paragraphs probably refer to the same person. But a very slight attention will convince us of the injustice of this procedure; Dr. Franklin's experiment was made in June 1752; and his letter, giving an ac­count of it, is dated October 19, 1752, M. De [Page 122] Romas made his first attempt on the 14th of May 1753, but was not successful until the 7th of June; a year after Franklin had completed the discove­ry, and when it was known to all the philosophers in Europe.

Besides these great principles, Franklin's letters on electricity contain a number of facts and hints. which have contributed greatly towards reducing this branch of knowledge to a science. His fri [...]d. Mr. Kinnersly, communicated to him a discovery of the different kinds of electricity excited by rub­bing glass and sulphur. This, we have said, was first observed by M. Du Faye; but it was for many years neglected. The philosophers were disposed to account for the phenomena, rather from a dif­ference in the quantity of electricity collected; and even Du. Faye himself seems at last to have a­dopted this doctrine. Franklin at first entertained the same idea: but upon repeating the experiments, he perceived that Mr. Kinnersley was right; and that the vitreous and r [...]sin [...]s electricity of Du Faye were nothing more than the positive and negative states which he had before observed: that the glass globe charged positively, or increased the quantity [...]f electricity on the prime conductor, whilst the globe of sulphur diminished its natural quantity, or charged negatively. These experiments and observations opened a new field for investigation, upon which electricians entered with avidity; and their labours have added much to the stock of our knowledge.

In September, 1752, Franklin entered upon a course of experiments, to determine the state of electricity in the clouds. From a number of expe­riments he formed this conclusion: "that the [Page 123] clouds of a thunder-gust are most commonly in a negative state of electricity, but sometimes in a positive state;" and from this it follows, as a ne­cessary consequence, "that, for the most part, in thunder-strokes, it is the earth that strikes into the clouds, and not the clouds that strike into the earth." The letter containing these 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 Bertholon, who published his memoir on the sub­ject in 1776.

Franklin's letters have been translated into most of the European languages, and into Latin. In proportion as they have become known, his prin­ciples have been adopted. Some opposition was made to his theories, particularly by the Abbe Nollet, who was, however, but feebly supported, whilst the first philosophers of Europe stepped forth in defence of Franklin's principles; among whom D'Alibard and Beccaria were the most distinguish­ed. The opposition 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 introduction into Europe, notwith­standing the most undoubted proofs of their utili­ty have been given. But mankind can with dif­ficulty be brought to lay aside established practices, or to adopt new ones. And perhaps we have more reason to be surprised that a practice, however ra­tional, [Page 124] which was proposed about forty years ago should in that time have been adopted in so many places, than that it has not universally prevailed. It is only by degrees that the great body of man­kind can be led into new practices, however salu­tary their tendency. It is now nearly eighty years since inoculation was introduced into Europe and America; and it is so far from being general at present, that it will, perhaps, require one or two cen­turies to render it so.

In the year 1745, Franklin published an account of his new invented Pennsylvania fire-places, in which he minutely and accurately states the ad­vantages and disadvantages of different kinds of fire-places; and endeavours to shew that the one which he describes is to be preferred to any other. This contrivance has given rise to the open stoves now in general use, which however differ from it in construction, particularly in not having an air-box at the back, through which a constant supply of air, warmed in its passage, is thrown into the room. The advantages of this are, that as a stream of warm air is continually flowing into the room, less fuel is necessary to preserve a proper tempe­rature, and the room may be so tightened as that no air may enter through cracks; the consequences of which are colds, tooth-aches, &c.

Although philosophy was a principal object of Franklin's pursuit for several years, he confined himself not to this. In the year 1747, he became a member of the general assembly of Pennsylvania, as a burgess for the city of Philadelphia. Warm disputes at this time subsisted between the assem­bly and the proprietaries; each contending for what they conceived to be their just rights. Frank­lin, [Page 125] a friend to the rights of man from his infancy, soon distinguished himself as a steady opponent of the unjust schemes of the proprietaries. He was soon looked up to as the head of the opposition; and to him have been attributed 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 superior powers of eloquence; he spoke but seldom, and he never was known to make any thing like an elaborate harangue. His speeches often consisted of a single sentence, or of a well-told story, the moral of which was always obviously to the point. He ne­ver attempted the flowery fields of oratory. His manner was plain and mild. His style in speaking was▪ like that of his writings, 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 unprejudiced who had opposed him. With a single observation, he has rendered of no avail an elegant and lengthy discourse, and determined the fate of a question of importance.

But he was not contented with thus supporting the rights of the people. He wished to render them permanently secure, which can only be done by making their value properly known; and this must depend upon encreasing and extending in­formation to every class of men. We have alrea­dy seen that he was the founder of the public li­brary, which contributed greatly towards improv­ing the minds of the citizens. But this was not sufficient. The schools then subsisting were in ge­neral of little utility. The teachers were men ill-qualified [Page 126] for the important duty which they had undertaken; and, after all, nothing more could be obtained than the rudiments of a common En­glish education. Franklin drew up a plan of an Academy to be erected in the city of Philadelphia, suited to "the state of an infant country;" but i [...] this, as in all his plans, he confined not hi [...] [...] to the present time only. He looked forward to the period when an institution on an enlarged plan would become necessary. With this view he considered his Academy as "a foundation for posterity to erect a seminary of learning, more extensive, and suitable to future circumstances." In pursuance of this plan the constitutions were drawn up and signed on the 13th of November 1749. In these twen­ty-four of the most respectable citizens of Phila­delphia was named as trustees. In the choice of these, and in the formation of his plan, Franklin is said to have consulted chiefly with Thomas Hop­kinson, Esq. Rev. Richard Peters, then secretary of the province, Tench Francis, Esq. attorney­general, and Dr. Phineas Bond.

The following article shews a spirit of benevo­lence worthy of imitation; and, for the honour of our city, we hope that it continues to be in force.

"In case of the inability of the rector, or any master, (established on the foundation by receiving a certain salary) through sickness, or any other natural infirmity, whereby he may be reduced to poverty, the trustees shall have power to contribute to his support, in proportion to his distress and me­rit, and the stock in their hands."

The last clause of the fundamental rules is ex­pressed in language so tender and benevolent, so [Page 127] truly parental, that it will do everlasting honour to the hearts and heads of the founders.

"It is hoped and expected, that the trustees will make it their pleasure, and in some degree their business, to visit the academy often; to encourage and countenance the youth, countenance and assist the masters, and by all means in their power advance the usefulness and reputation of the design; that they will look on the students as, 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, preferable to all other per­sons whatsoever, even of equal merit."

The constitutions being signed and made public, with the names of the gentlemen proposing them­selves as trustees and founders, the design was so well approved of by the public-spirited citizens of Philadelphia, that the sum of eight hundred pounds per annum, for five years, was in the course of a few weeks subscribed for carrying the plan into execution; and in the beginning of January fol­lowing (viz. 1750) three of the schools were open­ed, namely, the Latin and Greek schools, the Mathematical, and the English schools. In pur­suance of an article in the original plan, a school for educating sixty boys and thirty girls (in the charter since called the Charitable School) was open­ed, and amidst all the difficulties with which the trustees have struggled in respect to their funds, has still been continued full for the space of forty years; so that allowing three years education for [Page 128] each boy and girl admitted into it, which is the general rule, at least twelve hundred children have received in it the chief part of their education who might otherwise, in a great measure, have been left without the means of instruction. And many of those who have been thus educated, are now to be found among the most useful and repu­table citizens of this state.

The institution, thus successfully begun, con­tinued daily to flourish, to the great satisfaction of Dr. Franklin; who, notwithstanding the multipli­city 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 mean [...] of his extensive correspondence abroad, to advance the reputation of the seminary, and to draw stu­dents and scholars to it from different parts of Ame­rica and the West Indies. Through the inter­position of his benevolent and learned friend, Pe­ter Collinson, of London, upon the application of the trustees, a charter of 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 original design, viz. the establishment of a perfect institution, upon the plan of the Eu­ropean colleges and universities; for which his aca­demy was intended as a nursery or foundation. To elucidate this fact, is a matter of considerable importance in respect to the memory and charac­ter of Dr. Franklin, as a philosopher, and as the [Page 129] 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, suitable to the state of an infant country, and laying a foundation for posterity to erect a semi­nary of learning more extensive, and suitable to their future circumstances;" yet it has been suggested of late, as upon Dr. Franklin's authority, that the Latin and Greek, or the dead languages, are an in­cumbrance upon a scheme of liberal education, and that the engranfting or founding a college, or more extensive seminary, upon his academy, was without his approbation or agency, and gave him discontent. If the reverse of this does not already appear, from what has been quoted above, the following letters will put the matter beyond dispute. They were written by him to a gentleman, who had at that time published the idea of a college, suited to the circumstances of a young country, (meaning New-York) a copy of which having been sent to Dr. Franklin for his opinion, gave rise to that correspon­dence which terminated about a year afterwards, in erecting the college upon the foundation of the aca­demy, and establishing that gentleman at the head of both, where he still continues, after a period of thir­ty-six years, to preside with distinguished reputation.

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

Sir,

I received your favour of the 11th instant, with your new* piece on Education which I shall care­fully [Page 130] peruse, and give you my sentiments of it, as you desire, by next post.

I believe the young gentlemen, your pupils, may be entertained and instructed here, in mathe­matics and philosophy to satisfaction. Mr. Ali­son* (who was educated at Glasgow) has been long accustomed to teach the latter, and Mr. 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 afford some hours [...] day for the instruction of those who are engaged in higher studies. The mathematical school is pretty well furnished with instruments. The English libra­ry is a good one; and we have belonging to it a middling apparatus for experimental philosophy, and purpose speedily to complete it. The Loga­nian library, one of the best collections in America, will shortly be opened; so that neither books nor instruments will be wanting; and as we are deter­mined always to give good salaries, we have reason to believe we may have always an opportunity of choosing good masters; upon which, indeed, the suc­cess of the whole depends. We are obliged to you for your kind offers in this respect, and when you are settled in England, we may occasionally make use of your friendship and judgment.

[Page 131] If it suits your conveniency to visit Philadel­phia before you return to Europe, I shall 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 of my greatest enjoyment.

I do not know whether you ever happened to see the first proposals I made for erecting the Aca­demy. I send them enclosed. They had (howe­ver imperfect) the desired success, being followed by a subscription of four thousand pounds, towards carrying them into execution. And as we are fond of receiving advice, and are daily improving by ex­perience, I am in hopes we shall in a few years, see a perfect institution.

I am very respectfully, &c. B. FRANKLIN.

Mr. W. Smith, Long-Island.

*
A general idea of the college of Marania.
*
The Rev. and learned Mr. Francis Alison, after­wards D. D. and Vice Provost of the College.
Mr. Theophilus Grew, afterwards Professor of Ma­thematics in the College.
Those assistants were at that time Mr. Charles Thompson, late Secretary of Congress, Mr. Paul Jackson and Mr. Jacob Duche.
Sir,

Mr. Peters has just now been with me, and we have compared notes on your new piece. We find nothing in the scheme of education, however excellent, but what is, in our opinion, very practi­cable. The great difficulty will be to find the Aratus*, and other suitable persons, to carry it into execution; but such may be had if proper encou­ragement be given. We have both received great pleasure in the perusal of it. For my part, I know [Page 132] [...] I have read a piece that has mo [...]e affected me—so noble and just are the sentiments, 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 those expressions of resentment against your adversaries, in pages 65 and 79. In such cases the noblest victory is obtained by neglect and by shining on.

Mr. Allen has been out of town these ten days; but before he went he directed me to procure him six copies of your piece. Mr. Peters has taken ten. He purposed to have written to you; but omits it, as he expects so soon to have the pleasure of seeing you here. He desires me to present his affectionate compliments to you, and to assure you that you will be very welcome to him. I shall only say, that you may depend on my doing all in my power to make your visit to Philadelphia agreea­ble to you.

I am, &c. B. FRANKLIN.

Mr. Smith.

*
The name given to the principal or head of the ideal college, the system of education in which hath nevertheless been nearly realized, or followed as a model, in the college and Academy of Philadelphia, and some other American seminaries, for many years past.
*
The quotation alluded to (from the London Monthly Review for 1749,) was judged to reflect too severely [...] the discipline and government of the English university of Oxford and Cambridge, and was expunged from the following editions of this work.
Dear Sir,

Having written you fully, via Bristol, I have now little to add. Matters relating to the Acade­my remain in slutu quo. The trustees would be [Page 133] glad to see a rector established there, but they dread entering into new engagements till they are got out of debt; and I have not yet got them wholly over to my opinion, that a good professor, or teacher of the higher branches of learning would draw so many scholars as to pay great part, if not the whole of his salary. Thus, unless the proprie­tors (of the province) shall think fit to put the finishing hand to our institution, it must, I fear, wait some few years longer before it can arrive at that state of perfection, which to [...]he it seems now ca­pable of; and all the pleasure I promised myself in seeing you settled among us, vanishes into smoke.

But good Mr. Collinson writes me word, that no endeavours, of his shall be wanting; and he hopes, with the archbishop's assistance, to be able to to prevail with our proprietors*. I pray God grant them success.

My son presents his affectionate regards, with, dear sir,

Yours, &c. B. FRANKLIN.

P. S. I have not been favoured with a line from you since your arrival in England.

*
Upon the application of Archbishop Herring, and P. Collinson, Esq. at Dr. Franklin's request, (aided by the l [...]ters of Mr. Allen and Mr. Peters) the Hon. Thomas [...], Esq. subscribed an annual sum, and afterwards gave at least, 5000l. to the founding or engrafting the College upon the Academy.
Dear Sir,

I have had but one letter from you since your arrival in England, which was a short one, via [Page 134] Boston, dated October 18th, acquainting me that you had written largely by Capt. Davis—Davis was lost, and with him your letters, to my great disappointment.—Mesnard and Gibbon have since arrived here, and I hear nothing from you.—My comfort is, an imagination that you only omit writing because you are coming, and purpose [...] tell me every thing viva voce. So not knowing whether this letter will reach you, and hoping ei­ther to see or hear from you by the Myrtill [...], [...] Buddon's ship, which is daily expected, I only [...] that I am, with great esteem and affection,

Yours, &c. B. FRANKLIN

Mr. Smith.

About a month after the date of this last [...] the gentleman to whom it was addressed arrived in Philadelphia, and was immediately placed at the head of the seminary; whereby Dr. Franklin, and the other trustees were enabled to prosecute their plan, for perfecting the institution, and open­ing the College upon the large and liberal foundation on which it now stands; for which purpose they obtained their additional charter, dated May 27th, 1755.

Thus far we thought it proper to exhibit in one view Dr. Franklin's services in the foundation and establishment of this seminary. He soon afterward embarked for England, in the public service of his country; and having been generally employed abroad, in the like service, for the greatest part of the remainder of his life (as will appear in our subsequent account of the same) he had but few opportunities of taking any further active part i [...] the affairs of the seminary, until his sinal return i [...] [Page 135] the year 1785, when he found its charters viola­ted, and his ancient colleagues, the original found­ers, deprived of their trust, by an act of the legis­lature; and although his own name had been in­serted among the new trustees, yet he declined to take his seat among them, or any concern in the management of their affairs, till the institution was restored by law to its original owners. He then assembled his old colleagues at his own house, and being chosen their president, all their future meetings were, at his request, held there, till within a few months of his death, when with reluctance, and at their desire, lest he might be too much injured by his attention to their business, he suffered them to meet at the college.

Franklin not only gave birth to many useful institutions himself, but he was also instrumental in promoting those which had originated with other men. About the year 1752, an eminent phy­sician of this city, Dr. Bond, considering the deplorable state of the poor, when visited with disease, conceived the idea of establishing an hospi­tal. Notwithstanding very great exertions on his part, he was able to interest few people so far in his benevolent plan, as to obtain subscriptions from them. Unwilling that his scheme should prove abortive, he sought the aid of Franklin, who readily engaged in the business, both by using his influence with his friends, and by stating the advantageous influence of the proposed insti­tution in his paper. These efforts were attend­ed with success. Considerable sums were subscri­bed; but they were still short of what was necessa­ry. Franklin now made another exertion. He applied to the assembly; and, after some opposi­tion, [Page 136] obtained leave to bring in a bill, specifying, that as soon as two thousand pounds were subscri­bed, the same sum should be drawn from the trea­sury by the speaker's warrant, to be applied to the purposes of the institution. The opposition, [...] the sum was granted upon a contingency which they supposed would never take place, were silent, and the bill passed. The friends of the plan now redoubled their efforts, to obtain subscriptions to the amount stated in the bill, and were soon suc­cessful. This was the foundation of the Pennsyl­vania Hospital, which, with the Bettering-house and Dispensary, bears ample testimony of the hu­manity of the citizens of Philadelphia.

Dr. Franklin had conducted himself so well [...] 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 [...] raise him to a more dignified station. In 1753 [...] was appointed deputy post-master-general for the British colonies. The profits arising from the postage of the revenue, which the crown of Great Britain derived from the colonies. In the hands of Franklin, it is said, that the post-office in A­merica yielded annually thrice as much as that of Ireland.

The American colonies were much exposed to depredations on their frontiers, by the Indians; and more particularly whenever a war took place between France and England. The colonies, individually, were either too weak to take efficient measures for their own defence, or they were un­willing to take upon themselves the whole [...] of erecting forts and maintaining garrisons, [...] their neighbours, who partook equally with them­selves, [Page 137] of the advantages, contributed nothing to the expence. Sometimes also the disputes, which subsisted between the Governors and Assemblies, prevented the adoption of means of defence; as we have seen was the case in Pennsylvania in 1745. To devise a plan of union between the Colonies, to regulate this and other matters, appeared a desira­ble object. To accomplish this, in the year 1754, commissioners from New-Hampshire, Massachusetts, Rhode-Island, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Mary­land, met at Albany. Dr. Franklin attended here, as a commissioner from Pennsylvania, and produced a plan, which, from the place of meeting, has been usually termed "The Albany Plan of Union." This proposed, that application should be made for an act of Parliament, to establish in the colonies a general government, to be administered by a president-general, appointed by the crown, and by a grand-council, con­sisting of members chosen by the representatives of the different colonies; their number 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 representatives. The whole execu­tive authority was committed to the president- gene­ral. The power of legislation was lodged in the grand council and president-general jointly; his con­sent being made necessary to passing a bill into a law. The power vested in the president and council were, to declare war and peace, and to conclude treaties with the Indian nations; to regulate trade with, and to make purchases of vacant lands from them, either in the name of the crown, or of the union; to settle new colonies, to make laws for governing these until they should be erected in seperate governments, and [Page 138] to raise troops, build forts, fit out armed vessels, and use other means for the general defence: and, to effect these things, a power was given to make laws, [...]aying such duties, imposts, or taxes, as they should find necessary, and as would be least bur­densome to the people. All laws were to be sent to England for the King's approbation; and un­less disapproved of within three years, were to re­main in force. All officers in the land or sea ser­vice were to be nominated by the president-gene­ral, and approved of by the general council; civil officers were to be nominated by the council, and approved by the president. 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. The fate of it was singular. It was disapproved of by the ministry of Great Britain, because it gave too much power to the representatives of the people; and it was rejected by every assembly, as giving to the president-general, the representative of the crown, an influence greater than appeared to them proper, in a plan of government intended for freemen. Perhaps this rejection, on both sides, is the strongest proof that could be adduced of the excellence of it, as suited to the situation of Ame­rica and Great Britain at that time. It appears to have steered exactly in the middle, between the opposite interests of both.

Whether the adoption of this plan would have prevented the separation of America from Great Britain, is a question which might afford much room for speculation. It may be said, that, by [Page 139] enabling the colonies to defend themselves, it would have removed the pretext upon which the stamp-act, tea-act, and other acts of the British parliament, were passed: which excited a spirit of opposition, and laid the foundation for the se­paration of the two countries, But, on the other hand, it must be admitted, that the restriction laid by Great Britain upon our commerce, obliging us to sell our produce to her citizens only, and to take from them various articles, of which, as our manufactures were discouraged, we stood in need, at a price greater than that for which they could have been obtained from other nations, must ine­vitably 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▪ and would, therefore, refuse his assent to any laws, however salutary to the community, which had the most remote tendency to injure the interests of his sovereign. Even should they re­ceive his assent, the approbation of the king was to be necessary; who would indubitably, in every instance, prefer the advantage of his home domi­nions to that of his colonies. Hence would ensue perpetual disagreements between the council and the president-general, and thus, between the peo­ple of America and the crown of Great Britain: While the colonies continued weak, they would be obliged to submit, and as soon as they acquired strength they would become more urgent in their demands, until, at length, they would shake off the yoke, and declare themselves independent.

[Page 140] 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 British claimed as their own. Independent of the injury to the fur­trade, which was considerable, the colonies suffer­ed this further inconvenience, that the Indians were frequently instigated to commit depredations on their frontiers. In the year 1753, encroach­ments were made upon the boundaries of Virginia. Remonstrances had no effect. In the ensuing year, a body of men was sent out under the com­mand of Mr. Washington, who, though a very young man, had, by his conduct in the preceding year, shewn 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 marched against him. He fortified himself as strongly as time and circumstances would admit. A superiority of numbers soon obliged him to sur­render Fort Necessity. He obtained honourable terms 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 French of the posts upon which they had seized. After the men were all ready, a diffi­culty occurred, which had nearly prevented the expedition. This was the want of waggons. Frank­lin now stepped forward, and with the assistance [Page 141] of his son, in a little time procured a hundred and fifty. Braddock unfortunately fell into an ambus­cade, and perished, with a number of his men.—Washington, who had accompanied him as an aid­de-camp, and had warned him, in vain, of his dan­ger, now displayed great military talents in effect­ing a retreat of the remains of the army, and in forming a juction with the rear, under Colonel Dunbar, upon whom the 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 their falling into the hands of the enemy. For the waggons which he had furnished, Franklin had given bonds to a large amount. The owners declared their intentions of obliging him to make a restitution of their property. Had they put their threats into execution, ruin must inevitably have been the consequence. Governor Shirley, finding that he had incurred these debts for the service of government, made arrangements to have them discharged, and released Franklin from his disagree­able situation.

The alarm spread through the colonies, after the defeat of Braddock, was very great. 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 intro­duced into the assembly a bill for organizing a militia, by which every man was allowed to take arms or not, as to him should appear fit. The quakers, being thus left at liberty, suffered the bill to pass; for although their principles would not [Page 142] suffer them to fight, they had no objections 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 consisted of 1200 men.

The north-western frontier being invaded by the enemy, it became necessary to adopt measures for its defence. Franklin was directed by the governor to take charge of this business. A power of raising men and of appointing officers to command them, was vested in him. He soon levied a body of troops, with which he repaired to the place at which their pre­sence was necessary. Here he built a fort, and pla­ced the garrison in such a posture of defence, as would enable them to withstand the inroads, to which the inhabitants had previously been exposed. He re­mained here for some time, in order the more com­pletely to discharge the trust committed to him. Some business of importance rendered his presence necessary in the assembly, and he returned to Phila­delphia.

The defence of her colonies was a great expence to Great Britain. The most effectual mode of lessening this was, to put arms into the hands of the inhabitants, and to teach them their use. But England wished not that the Americans should become acquainted with their own strength. She was apprehensive, that, as soon as this period ar­rived, they would no longer submit to that mono­poly of their trade, which to them was highly in­jurious, but extremely advantageous to the mother country. In comparison with the profits of this, the expence of maintaining armies and fleets to defend them was trifling. She sought to keep [Page 143] them dependent upon her for protection, the best plan which could be devised for retaining them in peaceable subjection. The least appearance of a military spirit was therefore to be guarded against, and, although a war then raged, the act organizing a militia was disapproved of by the ministry. The regiments which had been formed under it were disbanded, and the defence of the province entrusted to regular troops.

The disputes between the proprietaries and the people continued in full force, although a war was raging on the frontiers. Not even the sense of danger was sufficient to reconcile, for ever so short a time, their jarring interests. The assembly still insisted upon the justice of taxing the proprietary estates, but the governors constantly refused to give their assent 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 opponents, the assembly at length determined to apply to the mother country for relief. A petition was addressed to the King in council, stating the inconveniencies under which the inhabitants laboured, from the attention of the proprietaries to their private interests, to the ne­glect of the general welfare of the community, and praying for redress. Franklin was appointed to present this address, as agent for the province of Pennsylvania, and departed from America in June 1757. In conformity to the instructions which he had received from the legislature, he held a con­ference with the proprietaries, who then resided in England, and endeavoured to prevail upon them to give up the long-contested point. Finding that they would hearken to no terms of accom­modation, [Page 144] he laid his petition before the council. During this time governor 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 intelligence, and Franklin's exertions, used their utmost exertions to prevent the royal sanction being given to this law, which they represented as highly iniquitous, designed to throw the burden of supporting go­vernment on them, and calculated to produce the most ruinous consequences to them and their po­sterity. The cause was amply discussed before the privy council. The Penns found here some stre­nuous advocates; nor were there wanting some who warmly espoused the side of the people. Af­ter some time spent in debate, a proposal was made, that Franklin should solemnly engage, that the assessment of the tax should be so made, as that the proprietary estates should pay no more than a due proportion. This he agreed to perform, the Penn family withdrew their opposition, and tran­quility was thus once more restored to the pro­vince.

The mode in which this dispute was terminated is a striking proof of the high opinion entertained of Franklin's integrity and honour, even by those who considered him as inimical to their views. Nor was their confidence ill-founded. The assess­ment was made upon the strictest principles of equi­ty; and the proprietary estates bore only a pro­portionable share of the expences 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 [Page 145] extensive knowledge which he possessed of the [...]u­ation of the colonies, and the regard which he always manifested for their interests, occasioned his appointment to the same office by the colonie [...] of Massechusetts, Maryland, and Georgia. His conduct, in this situation, was such as rendered him still more dear to his countrymen.

He had now an opportunity of indulging in the society of those friends, whom his merits had pro­cured him while at a distance. The regard which they had entertained for him was rather encrease [...] by a personal acquaintance. The opposition which had been made to his discoveries in philosophy gradually ceased, and the rewards of leterary me­rit were abundantly conferred upon him. The Royal Society of London, which had at first refus­ed his performances admission into its transactions, now thought it an honour to rank him among its fellows. Other societies of Europe were equally ambitious of calling him a member. The uni­versity of St. Andrew's in Scotland, conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws. Its ex­ample was followed by the Universities of Edin­burgh and of 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 time in the possession of the French, who had originally set­tled it. The trade with the Indians, for which its situation was very convenient, was exceeding­ly lucrative. The French traders here found a market for their commodities, and received in re­turn large quantities of rich furs, which they dis­posed [Page 146] of at a high price in Europe. Whilst the possession of this country was highly advantageous to France, it was a grevious inconvenience to the inhabitants of the British colonies. The Indians were almost generally desirous to cultivate the friendship of the French; by whom they were abun­dantly supplied with arms and ammunition. When­ever a war happened, the Indians were ready to fall upon the frontiers: and this they frequently did; even when Great Britain and France were at peace. From these considerations, it appeared to be the in­terest of Great Britain to gain the possession of Cana­da. But the importance of such an acquisition was not well understood in England. Franklin about this time published his Canada pamphlet, in which he, in a very forcible manner, pointed out the advan­tages which would result from the conquest of this province.

An expedition against it was planned, and the command given to General Wolfe. His success is well known. At the treaty in 1762, France ceded Canada to Great Britain, and by her cession of Louisiana, at the same time relinquished all her possessions on the continent of America.

Although Dr. Franklin was now principally oc­cupied with political pursuits, he found time for philosophical studies. He extended his electrical researches, and made a variety of experiments, particularly on the tourmalin. The 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 experiments on the cold produced by eva­poration, made by Dr. Cullen, had been commu­nicated [Page 147] to Dr. Franklin by Professor Simpson of Glasgow. These he repeated, and found, that, by the evaporation of ether in the exhausted receiver of an air-pump, so great a degree of cold was pro­duced in a summer's day, that water was converted into ice. This discovery he applied to the solu­tion of a number of phenomena, particularly a sin­gular fact, which philosophers had endeavoured in vain to account for, viz. that the temperature of the human body, when in health, never exceeds 96 degrees of Farenheit's thermometer, although the atmosphere which surrounds it may be heated to a much greater degree. This he attributed to the increased perspiration, and consequent evaporati­on produced by the heat.

In a letter to Mr. Small of London, dated in May 1760, Dr. Franklin makes a number of ob­servations, tending to shew that, in North Ameri­ca, north-east storms begin in the south-west parts. It appears, from actual observation, 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 rarefaction takes place about the Gulph of Mexico, that the air further north being cooler rushes in, and is succeeded by the cooler and denser air still further north, and that thus a continued current is at length produced.

The tone produced by rubbing the brim of a drinking glass with a wet finger had been gene­rally known. A Mr. 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 [Page 148] capable of playing tunes. He was prevented by an untimely end, from bringing his invention to any degree of perfection. After his death some improvements were made upon his plan. The sweetness of the tones induced Dr. Franklin to make a variety of experiments; and he at length formed that elegant instrument, which he has called the Armonica.

In the summer of 1762 he returned Ame­rica. On his passage he observed the singular ef­fect produced 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 explanation 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 compensation of 5000l. Pennsylva­nia currency, was also decreed him for his services during six years.

During his absence he had been annually elect­ed member of the assembly. On his return to Pennsylvania he again took his feat in this body, and continued a steady defender of the liberties of the people.

In December 1762, a circumstance which caus­ed great alarm in the province took place. A number of Indians had resided in the county of Lancaster, and conducted themselves uniformly as friends to the white inhabitants. Repeated de­predations on the frontiers had exasperated the [Page 149] inhabitants to such a degree, that they determined on revenge upon every Indian. A number of per­sons, to the amount of 120, principally inhabitants of Donnegal and Peckstang or Paxton townships, in the county of York, assembled; and, mounted on horseback, proceeded to the settlement of these harmless and defenceless Indians, whose number had now reduced to about twenty. The Indians received intelligence of the attack which was in­tended against them, but disbelieved it. Consi­dering the white people as their friends, they 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 Shahaes, who had been always distinguish­ed 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 conducted to Lancaster, and lodged in the gaol, as a place of security. The governor issued a pro­clamation expressing the strongest disapprobation of the action, offering a reward for the discovery of the perpetrators of the deed, and prohibiting all injuries to the peaceable Indians in future. But, notwithstanding this, a party of the same men shortly after marched to Lancaster, broke open the gaol, and inhumanly butchered the innocent Indians who had been placed there for security. Another proclamation was issued, but had no ef­fect. A detachment marched down to Philadel­phia, [Page 150] for the express purpose of murdering some friendly Indians, who had been removed to the ci­ty for safety. A number of the citizens armed in their defence. The Quakers, whose principles are opposed to fighting, even in their own defence, were most active upon this occasion. The rioters came to Germantown. The governor fled for safe­ty to the house of Dr. Franklin, who, with some others, advanced to meet the Paxton boys, as they were called, and had influence enough to prevail upon them to relinquish their undertaking, and return to their homes.

The disputes between the proprietaries and the assembly, which, for a time, had subsided, were again revived. The proprietaries were dissatisfied with the concessions made in 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.

In 1763 the assembly passed a militia bill, to which the governor refused to give his assent, un­less the assembly would agree to certain amend­ments which he proposed. These consisted in in­creasing the fines, and, in some cases, substituting death for fines. He wished too that the officers should be appointed altogether by himself, and not be nominated by the people, as the bill had proposed. These amendments the assembly con­sidered as inconsistent with the spirit of liberty. They would not adopt them; the governor was obstinate, and the bill was lost.

These, and various other circumstances, increas­ed the uneasiness which subsisted between the pro­prietaries and the assembly, to such a degree, that, in 1764, a petition to the King was agreed to by the [Page 151] house, praying an alteration from a proprietary to a regal government. Great opposition was made to this measure, not only in the house but in the public prints. A speech of Mr. Dickenson, on the sub­ject, was published, with a preface by Dr. Smith, in which great pains were taken to 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. Dickenson's speech. This application to the throne produced no effect. The proprietary government was still continued.

At the election for a new assembly, in the fall of 1764, the friends of the proprietaries made great exertions to exclude those of the adverse party, and obtained a small majority in the City of Philadelphia. Franklin now lost his seat in the house, which he had held for fourteen years. On the meeting of the assembly, it 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 ad­mission upon the minutes, as being unprecedented. It was, however, published in the papers, and pro­duced a spirited reply from him, just before his de­parture for England.

The disturbances produced in America by Mr. Grenvill's stamp-act, and the opposition made to it are well known. Under the Marquis of Rock­ingham's administration, it appeared expedient to endeavour to calm the minds of the colonists; and [Page 152] the repeal of the odious tax was contemplated. Amongst other means of collecting information on the disposition of the people to submit to it, Dr. Franklin was called to the bar of the house of commons. The examination which he here un­derwent was published, and contains a striking proof of the extent and accuracy of his informa­tion, and the facility with which he communica­ted 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 opposition, was repeal­ed, about a year after it was enacted, and before it had ever been carried into execution.

In the year 1766, he made a visit to Holland and Germany, and received the greatest marks of attention from men of Science. In his passage through Holland, he learned from the watermen the effect which a diminution of the quantity of water in canals has, in impeding the progress of boats. Upon his return to England, he was led to make a number of experiments; all of which tended to confirm the observation. These, with an explana­tion of the phenomenon, he communicated in a let­ter to his friend, Sir John Pringle, which is contain­ed in the volume of his philosophical pieces.

In the following year he travelled into France, where he met with no less favourable reception than he had experienced in Germany. He was introduced to a number of literary characters, and to the King, Louis XV.

Several letters written by Hutchinson, Oliver, and others, to persons in eminent stations in Great Britain, came into the hands of Dr. Franklin.

These contained the most violent invectives [Page 153] against the leading characters of the state of Massa­chusetts, and strenuously advised the prosecution of vigorous measures, to compel the people to obedience to the measures of the ministry. These he transmitted to the legislature, by whom they were published. Attested copies of them were sent to Great Britain, with an address, praying the king to discharge from office persons who had ren­dered themselves so obnoxious to the people, and who had shewn themselves so unfriendly to their interests. The publication of these letters produced a duel between Mr. Whately and Mr. Temple; each of whom was suspected of having been instrumental in procuring them. To prevent any further dis­putes on this subject, Dr. Franklin, in one of the public papers, declared that he had sent them to America, but would give no information concern­ing the manner in which he had obtained them; nor was this ever discovered.

Shortly after, the petition of the Massachusetts assembly was taken up for examination, before the privy council. Dr. 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 council for Oliver and Hutchin­son. The petition was declared to be scandalous and vexatious, and the prayer of it refused.

Although the parliament of Great Britain had repealed the stamp-act, it was only upon the prin­ciple of expediency. They still insisted upon their right to tax the colonies; and, at the same time that the stamp-act was repealed, an act was passed, declaring the right of parliament to bind the colonies in all cases whatsoever. This language [Page 154] was used even by the most strenuous opposers of the stamp-act; and, amongst others, by Mr. Pitt. This right was never recognized by the colonists; but, as they flattered themselves that it would not be exercised, they were not very active in remon­strating against it. Had this pretended right been suffered to remain dormant, the colonists would cheerfully have furnished their quota of supplies, in the mode to which they had been accustomed; that is, by acts of their own assemblies, in conse­quence of requisitions from the secretary of state. If this practice had been pursued, such was the disposition of the colonies towards the mother country, that, notwithstanding the disadvantages under which they laboured from restraints upon their trade, calculated solely for the benefit of the commercial and manufacturing interests of Great Britain, a separation of the two countries might have been a far distant event. The Americans, from their earliest infancy, were taught to vene­rate a people from whom they were descended; whose language, laws, and manners, were the same as their own. They looked up to them as models of perfection; and, in their prejudiced minds, the most enlightened nations of Europe were consider­ed as almost barbarians, in comparison with En­glishmen. The name of an Englishman convey­ed to an American the idea of every thing good and great. Such sentiments instilled into them in early life, what but a repetition of unjust treat­ment could have induced them to entertain the most distant thought of separation! The duties on glass, paper, leather, painter's colours, tea, &c. the disfranchisement of some of the colonies: the obstruction to the measures of the legislature in [Page 155] others, by the King's governors; the contemptuous treatment of their humble remonstrances, stating their grievances and praying a redress of them, and other violent and oppressive measures, at length excited an ardent spirit of opposition. Instead of endeavouring to allay this by a more lenient con­duct, the ministry seemed resolutely bent upon re­ducing the colonies to the most slavish obedience to their decrees. But this tended only 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 carrying them into effect, and of the mischievous conse­quences which must ensue from a continuence of the attempt. They persevered, with degree of inflexibility scarcely paralleled.

The advantages which Great Britain derived from her colonies were so great, that nothing but a degree of infatuation, little short of madness, could have produced a continuance of measures calculated to keep up a spirit of uneasiness, which might occasion the slightest wish for a separation. When we consider the great improvements in the science of government, the general diffusion of the principles of liberty amongst the people of Europe, the effects which these have already pro­duced in France, and the probable consequences which will result from them elsewhere, all of which are the offspring of the American revolution, it cannot but appear strange, that events of so great moment to the happiness of mankind, should have been ultimately occasioned by the wickedness or ignorance of a British ministry.

Dr. Franklin left nothing untried to prevail upon the ministry to consent to a change of mea­sures. [Page 156] In private conversations, and in letters to persons in government, he continually expatiated upon the impolicy and injustice of their conduct towards America; and stated, that, notwithstand­ing the attachment of the colonists to the mother country, a repetition of ill treatment must ulti­mately alienate their affections. They listened not to his advice. They blindly persevered in their own schemes, and left to the colonists no al­ternative, but opposition or unconditional submis­sion. The latter accorded not with the principles of freedom, which they had been taught to revere. To the former they were compelled, though reluc­tantly, to have recourse.

Dr. Franklin, finding all efforts to restore har­mony between Great Britain and her colonies use­less, returned to America in the year 1775; just after the commencement of hostilities. The day after his return he was elected by the legislature of Pennsylvania a Member of Congress. Not long after his election a committee was appointed, con­sisting of Mr. Lynch, Mr. Harrison, and himself, to visit the Camp at Cambridge, and in conjunc­tion with the commander in chief, to endeavour to convince the troops, whose term of enlistment was about to expire, of the necessity of their con­tinuing in the field, and persevering in the cause of their country.

In the fall of the same year he visited Canada, to endeavour to unite them in the common cause of liberty; but they could not be prevailed upon to oppose the measures of the British Government. M. Le Roy, in a letter annexed to Abbe Fauchet's eulogium of Dr. Franklin, states that the ill success of this negociation was occasioned, in a great de­gree, [Page 157] by religious animosities, which subsisted be­tween the Canadians and their neighbours, some of whom had at different times burnt their cha­pels.

When Lord Howe came to America, in 1776, vested with power to treat with the colonists, a correspondence took place between him and Dr. Franklin, on the subject of a reconciliation. Dr. Franklin was afterwards appointed, together with John Adams and Edward Rutledge, to wait upon the commissioners, in order to learn the extent of their power. These were found to be only to grant pardons upon submission. These were terms which would not be accepted; and the object of the commissioners could not be obtained.

The momentous question of Independence was shortly after brought into view, at a time when the fleets and armies, which were sent to enforce obedience, were truly formidable. With an ar­my, numerous indeed, but ignorant of discipline, and entirely unskilled in the art of war, without money, without a fleet, without allies, and with nothing but the love of liberty to support them, the colonists determined to separate from a coun­try, from which they had experienced a repetition of injury and insult. In this question, Dr. Frank­lin was decidedly in favour of the measure propos­ed, and had great influence in bringing over others to his sentiments.

The public mind had been pretty fully prepared for this event, by Mr. Paine's celebrated pamphlet, Common Sense. There is good reason to believe that Dr. Franklin had no inconsiderable share, at least, in furnishing materials for this work.

[Page 158] In the convention which assembled at Philadel­phia in 1776, for the purpose of establishing a new form of government for the state of Pensylvania, Dr. Franklin was chosen president. The late con­stitution of this state, which was the result of their deliberations, may be considered as a digest of his principles 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 ap­pointed to assist in the negociations which had been set on foot by Silas Deane at the court of France. A conviction of the advantages of a commercial intercourse with America, and a desire of weaken­ing the British empire by dismembering it, first in­duced the French court to listen to proposals of an alliance. But they shewed rather a reluctance to the measure, which, by Dr. Franklin's address, and particularly by the success of the American arms against general Burgoyne, was at length over­come; and in February 1778, a treaty of alliance, offensive and defensive, was concluded; in conse­quence of which France became involved in the war with Great Britain.

Perhaps no person could have been found, more capable of rendering essential services to the United States at the court of France, than Dr. Franklin. He was well known as a philosopher, and his cha­racter was held in the highest estimation. He was received with the greatest marks of respect by all the literary characters: and this respect was ex­tended amongst all classes of men. His personal influence was hence very considerable. To the effects of this were added those of various perform­ances which he published, tending to establish the [Page 159] credit and character of the United States. To his exertions in this way, may, in no small degree be ascribed the success of the loans 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 impos­sibility of reducing the Americans to subjection. The trading interest particularly became very cla­morous for peace. The ministry were unable longer to oppose their wishes. Provisionial articles of peace were agreed to, and signed at Paris on the 30th of November, 1782, by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, Mr. Jay, and Mr. Laurens, on the part of the United States; and by Mr. Oswald on the part of Great Britain. These formed the basis of the difinitive treaty, which was concluded the 30th of September 1783, and signed by Dr. Franklin, Mr. Adams, and Mr. Jay, on the one part, and by Mr. David Hartley on the other.

On the 3d of April 1783, a treaty of amity and commerce, between the United States and Sweden, was concluded at Paris, by Dr. Franklin and the Count Von Krutz.

A similar treaty with Prussia was concluded in 1785, not long before Dr. Franklin's departure from Europe.

Dr. Franklin did not suffer his political pursuits to engross his whole attention. Some of his per­formances made their appearance in Paris. The ob­ject of these was generally the promotion of industry and oeconomy.

In the year 1784, when animal magnetism made great noise in the world, particularly at Paris, it [Page 160] was thought a matter of such importance, that the King appointed commissioners to examine into the foundation of this pretended science. Dr. Frank­lin was one of the number. After a fair and dili­gent examination, in the course of which Mesmer repeated a number of experiments, in the presence of the commissioners, some of which were tried upon themselves, they determined that it was a mere trick, intended to impose upon the ignorant and credulous—Mesmer was thus interrupted in his career to wealth and same, and a most insolent attempt to impose upon the human understanding baffled.

The important ends of Dr. Franklin's mission being 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 succeed him, in 1785. Sometime in September of the same year, Dr. Franklin arrived in Philadel­phia. He was shortly after chosen member of the supreme executive council for the city; and soon after was elected president of the same.

When a Convention was called to meet in Phi­ladelphia, in 1787, for the purpose of giving more energy to the government of the union, by revising and amending the articles of confederation, Dr. Franklin was appointed a delegate from the State of Pennsylvania. He signed the Constitution which they proposed for the union, and gave it the most unequivocal marks of his approbation.

A society of political enquiries, of which Dr. Franklin was President, was established about this period. The meetings were held at his house.— [Page 161] Two or three essays read in the society were publish­ed. It did not long continue.

In the year 1787, two societies were established in Philadelphia, founded on principles of the most liberal and refined humanity—The Philadelphia So­ciety for alleviating the miseries of public prisons; and the Pennsylvania Society for promoting the abolition of slavery, the relief of free negroes unlawfully held in bondage, and the improvement of the condition of the African race. Of each of these Dr. Franklin was president. The labours of the these bodies have been crowned with great success; and they continue to prosecute, with unwearied diligence, the lauda­ble designs for which they were established.

Dr. Franklin's increasing infirmities prevented his regular attendance at the council-chamber: and, in 1788, he retired wholly from public life.

His constitution had been a remarkably good one. He had been little subject to disease, except an attack of the gout occasionally, until the year 1781, when he was first attacked with the symp­toms of the calculous complaint, which continued during his life. During the intervals of pain from this grievous disease, he spent many cheerful hours, conversing in the most agreeable and instructive manner. His faculties were entirely unimpaired, even to the hour of his death.

His name, as president of the Abolition Society, was signed to the memorial presented to the House of Representatives of the United States, on the 12th of February 1789, praying them to exert the full extent of power vested in them by the consti­tution, in discouraging the traffic of the human species. This was his last public act. In the de­bates to which this memorial gave rise, several at­tempts [Page 162] were made to justify the trade. In the Fe­deral Gazette of March 25th there appeared an essay, signed Historicus, written by Dr. Franklin, in which he communicated a speech, said to have been delivered in the Divan of Algiers in 1687, in opposition to the prayer of the petition of a sect called Erika, or purists, for the abolition of piracy and slavery. This pretended African speech was an excellent parody of one delivered by Mr. Jackson of Georgia. All the arguments urged in favour of negro slavery, are applied with equal force to justify the plundering and enslaving the 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 imitating the style of other times and nations, than his celebrated parable against per­secution. And as the latter led many to search the scriptures with a view to find it, so the former caus­ed many persons to search the book-stores and libraries, for the work from which it was said to be extracted.*

In the beginning of April following, he was at­tacked with a fever and complaint of his breast, which terminated his existence. The following account of his last illness was written by his friend and physician, Dr. Jones.

"The stone, with which he had been afflicted for several years, had for the last twelve months confined him chiefly to his bed; and during the extreme painful paroxysims, he was obliged to take large doses of laudanum to mitigate his tortures— [Page 163] still, in the intervals of pain, he not only amused himself with reading and conversing with his family, and a few friends who visited him, but as often em­ployed in doing business of a public as well as private nature, with various persons who waited on him for that purpose; and in every instance displayed, not on­ly that readiness and disposition of doing good, which was the distinguished characteristic 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 entertaining anecdotes, which were the delight of all who heard him.

"About sixteen days before his death, he was seized with a feverish indisposition, without any par­ticular symptoms attending it, till the third or fourth day, when he complained of pain in his left breast, which increased till it became extremely acute, at­tended with a cough and laborious breathing. Du­ring this state, when the severity of his pains some­times drew forth a groan of complaint, he would ob­serve—that he was afraid he did not bear them as he ought—acknowledged his greatful 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 among men—and made no doubt but his present afflictions were kindly intended to wean him from a world, in which he was no longer fit to act the part assigned him. In this frame of body and mind he contined 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 discharged a great quantity of matter, which he continued to throw up while he had [Page 164] strength to do it; but, as that failed, the orgaus of respiration became gradually oppressed—a calm le­thargic state succeeded, and, on the 17th of April, 1790, about eleven o'clock at night, he quietly expir­ed, closing a long and useful life of eighty four years and three months.

"It may not be amiss to add to the above account, that Dr. Franklin, in the year 1735, had a severe pleurisy, which 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 similiar nature happened some years after this, from which he soon recovered, and did not appear to suffer any inconvenience in his respira­tion from these diseases."

The following Epitaph on himself, was written by him many years previous to his death:

THE BODY of BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, Printer, (Like the cover of an old Book, Its contents torn out, And stript of its lettering and gilding) Lies here, food for worms; Yet the work itself shall not be lost, For it will (as he believed) appear once more, In a new And more beautiful edition Corrected and Amended by The Author.
[Page 165]

EXTRACTS from the last Will and Testament of Dr. FRANKLIN.

WITH regard to my Books, those I had in France, and those I left in Philadelphia, being now assembled together here, and a catalogue made of them, it is my intention to dispose of the same as follows:

My History of the Academy of Sciences, in sixty or seventy volumes quarto, I give to the philosophical so­ciety of Philadelphia, of which I have the honour to be president. My collection in folio of Les Arts & Les Metiers, I give to the philosophical society, established in New-England, of which I am a member. My quarto edition of the same Arts and Metiers, I give to the Library Company of Philadelphia. Such and so many of my books as I shall mark, in the said cata­logue, with the name of my grandson, Benjamin Franklin Bache, I do hereby give to him: and such and so many of my books as I shall mark in the said catalogue with the name of my grandson William Bache, I do hereby give to him: and such as shall be marked with the name of Jonathan Williams, I here­by give to my cousin of that name. The residue and remainder of all my books, manuscripts and pa­pers I do give to my grandson William Temple Franklin. My share in the library company of Phi­ladelphia I give to my grandson Benjamin Franklin Bache, confiding that he will permit his brothers and sisters to share in the use of it.

I was born in Boston, New-England, and owe my first instructions in literature to the free gram­mar-schools established there. I therefore give one hundred pounds sterling to my executors, to be by them, the survivors or survivor of them, paid over to the managers or directors of the free [Page 166] schools in my native town of Boston, to be by them, or the person or persons who shall have the super­intendance and management of the said schools, put out to interest, and so continued at interest for ever; which interest annually shall be laid out in silver medals, and given as honorary rewards annu­ally by the directors of the said free schools, for the encouragement of scholarship in the said schools, belonging to the said town, in such manner as to the discretion of the select men of the said town [...] seem meet.

Out of the salary that may remain due to [...] as president of the state, I give the sum of two thousand pounds to my executors, to be by them, the survivors or survivor of them, paid over to such person or persons as the legislature of this state, by an act of assembly, shall appoint to receive the same, in trust, to be employed for making the Schuylkill navigable.

During the number of years I was in business [...] a stationer, printer, and postmaster, a great many small sums became due to me, for books, adver­tisements, postage of letters, and other matters, which were not collected, when, in 1757, I was sent by the assembly to England as their agent—and, by subsequent appointments continued there till 1775—when, on my return, I was immediate­ly engaged in the affairs of congress, and sent to France in 1776, where I remained nine years, not returning till 1785; and the said debts not being demanded in such a length of time, are become in a manner obsolete, yet are nevertheless justly due—These, as they are stated in my great folio leger, E, I bequeath to the contributors of the Pennsylvania hospital; hoping that those debtors, [Page 167] and the descendants of such as are deceased, who now, as I find, make some difficulty of satisfying such antiquated demands as just debts, may how­ever be induced to pay or give them as charity to that excellent institution. I am sensible that much must inevitably be lost; but I hope something con­siderable may be recovered. It is possible too that some of the parties charged may have existing old unsettled accounts against me; in which case the managers of the said hospital will allow and deduct the amount, and pay the balance, if they find it against me.

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

I would have my body buried with as little ex­pence or ceremony as may be.

CODICIL.

I Benjamin Franklin, in the foregoing or an­nexed last will and testament, having further con­sidered the same, do think proper to make and publish the following codicil, or addition, thereto:

IT having long been a fixed political opinion of [...], that in a democratical state there ought to be no offices of profit, for the reasons I had given in an article of my drawing in our constitution, it was my intention, when I accepted the office of [Page 168] president, to devote the appointed salary to some public use: Accordingly I had already, before I made my last will, in July last, given large sums of it to colleges, schools, building of churches, &c. and in that will I bequeathed two thousand pounds more to the state, for the purpose of making the Schuylkill navigable; but understanding since, that such a sum will do but little towards accomplish­ing such a work, and that the project is not likely to be undertaken for many years to come—and having entertained another idea, which I hope may be found more extensively useful, I do hereby re­voke and annual the bequest, and direct that the certificates I have for what remains due to me of that salary, be sold towards raising the sum of two thousand pounds sterling, to be disposed of as I am now about to order.

It has been an opinion, that he who receives an estate from his ancestors, is under some obliga­tion to transmit the same to posterity. This obli­gation lies not on me, who never inherited [...] shil­ling from any ancestor or relation. I shall, howe­ver, if it is not diminished by some accident before my death, leave a considerable estate among my descendants and relations. The above observation is made merely as some apology to my family, for my making bequests that do not appear to have any immediate relation to their advantage.

I was born in Boston, New England, and owe my first instructions in literature to the free gram­mar-schools established there. I have therefore con­sidered those schools in my will.

But I am under obligations to the state of Massachusetts, for having, unasked, appointed me formerly their agent, with a handsome salary, [Page 169] which continued some years; and although I accidentally lost in their service, by transmitting Governor Hutchinson's letters, much more than the amount of what they gave me, I do not think that ought in the least to diminish my gratitude. I have considered that, among artisans, good ap­prentices are most likely to make good citizens; and having been myself bred to a manual art, print­ing, in my native town, and afterwards assisted to set up my business in Philadelphia by kind loans of money from two friends there, which was the foundation of my fortune, and of all the utility in life that may be ascribed to me—I wish to be use­ful even after my death, if possible, in forming and advancing other young men, that may be serviceable to their country in both these towns.

To this end I devote two thousand pounds ster­ling, which I give, one thousand thereof to the inhabitants of the town of Boston, in Massachu­setts, and the other thousand to the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia, in trust, to and for the uses, intents, and purposes, herein after mentioned and declared.

The said sum of one thousand pounds sterling, if accepted by the inhabitants of the town of Boston, shall be managed under the direction of the select men, united with the ministers of the oldest epis­copalian, congregational, and presbyterian church­es 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 faithfully fulfilled the duties required in [Page 170] their indentures, so as to obtain a good moral cha­racter, from at least two respectable citizens, who are willing to become sureties in a bond, with the applicants, for the repayment of the money so lent with interest, according to the terms 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 book, or books, wherein shall be entered the names of those who shall apply 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 institution: and as these loans are intended to assist young married artificers in setting up their bu­siness, they are to be proportioned by the discretion of the managers, so as not to exceed sixty pounds ster­ling to one person, nor to be less than fifteen pounds.

And if the number of appliers so entitled should be so large as that the sum will not suffice to afford to each as much as might otherwise not be improper, the proportion to each shall be diminished, so as to afford to every one some assistance. These aids may therefore be small at first, but as the capital in­creases by the accumulated interest, they will be more ample. And in order to serve as many as possible in their turn, as well as to make the repayment of the principal borrowed more ea­sy, each borrower shall be obliged to pay with the yearly interest one tenth part of the principal which sums of principal and interest so paid in, shall be again let out to fresh borrowers. And it is presumed, that there will be always found in Bos­ton virtuous and benevolent citizens, willing to bestow a part of their time in doing good to the [Page 171] rising generation, by superintending and managing this institution gratis; it is hoped that no part of the money will at any time lie dead, or be divert­ed to other purpose [...], but be continually augment­ing by the interest, in which case there may in time be more than the occasion in Boston shall 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 punctually the interest, and such proportions of the principal annually to the inhabitants of the town of Boston, if this plan is executed, and suc­ceeds, as projected, without interruption, for one hundred years, the sum will be then one hundred and thirty-one thousand pounds; of which I would have the managers of the donation to the town of Boston then lay out, at their discretion, one hun­dred thousand pounds in public works, which may be judged of most general utility to the inhabit­ants; such as fortifications, bridges, aqueducts, public buildings, baths, pavements, or whatever may make living in the town more convenient to its people, and render it more agreeable to stran­gers resorting thither for health, or a temporary 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 conduct of youth, and been of service to many wor­thy characters and useful citizens. At the end of this second term, if no unfortunate accident has prevented the operation, the sum will be four mil­lions and sixty-one thousand pounds sterling; of which I leave one million and sixty-one thousand [Page 172] pounds to the disposition and management of the in­habitants of the town of Boston, annd the three mil­lions to the disposition of the government of the state; not presuming to carry my views any farther.

All the directions herein given respecting the disposition and management of the donation to the inhabitants of Boston, I would have observed re­specting that to the inhabitants of Philadelphia; only, as Philadelphia is incorporated, I request the corporation of that city to undertake the manage­ment, agreeable to the said directions: and I do here­by vest them with full and ample powers for that purpose. And having considered that the cover­ing its ground-plat with buildings and pavements, which carry off most rain, and prevent its soaking into the earth, and renewing and purifying the springs, whence the water of the wells must gra­dually grow worse, and in time be unfit for use, as I find has happened in all old cities; I recom­mend, that, at the end of the first hundred years, if not done before, the corporation of the city em­ploy a part of the hundred thousand pounds in bringing by pipes the water of Wissahickon-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 Schuylkill complete­ly navigable. At the end of the second hundred years, I would have the disposition of the four mil­lions and sixty-one thousand pounds divided be­tween the inhabitants of the city of Philadelphia and the government of Pennsylvania, in the same manner as herein directed with respect to that of the inhabitants of Boston and the government of [Page 173] Massachusetts. It is my desire that this institution should take place, and begin to operate within one year after my decease; for which purpose due no­tice should be publicly given, previous to the ex­piration of that year, that those for whose benefit this establishment is intended may make their re­spective applications: and I 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 shall be duly appointed by the select men of Boston, and the corporation of Philadelphia, to receive and take charge of their respective sums of one thousand pounds each for the purposes afore­said. Considering the accidents to which all hu­man affairs and projects are subject in such a length of time, I have perhaps too much flattered myself with a vain fancy, that these dispositions, if carried into execution, will be continued without interrup­tion, and have the effects proposed; I hope, how­ever, that, if the inhabitants of the two cities should not think fit to undertake the execution, they will at least accept the offer of these donations, as marks of my good will, token of my gratitude, and testimony of my desire to be useful to them even after my departure. I wish, indeed, that they may both undertake to endeavour the execution of my project, because I think, that, though unfore­seen difficulties may arise, expedients will be found to remove them, and the scheme be found practicable. If one of them accepts the money with the condi­tions, and the other refuses, my will then is, that both sums be given to the inhabitants of the city accepting; the whole to be applied to the same purposes, and under the same regulations directed [Page 174] for the separate parts; and if both refuse, the money remains of course in the mass of my estate, and it is to be disposed of therewith, according to my will made the seventeenth day of July, 1788.

My fine crab-tree walking-stick, with a gold head curiously wrought in the form of the cap of Liberty, I give to my friend, and the friend of mankind, General Washington. If it were a sceptre, he has merited it, and would become it.

END OF VOL. I.
ESSAYS, HUMOUROUS, MORAL, and LITERARY, &c.
[Page]

THE Works of the late Dr. BENJAMIN FRANKLIN Consisting of HIS LIFE Written by himself Together with ESSAYS Humorous, Moral, & Literary, chiefly in the manner of the Spectator.

NEW-YORK Printed by Tiebout & Obrian for H. Gain, [...] Nutter, R. McGill, J. Allen, J. Read, E. Duyckinck & Co. and Edward Mitchell No: 9. Maiden Lane.

Engraved by P. R. Mavorick. 65 Liberty Street.

[Page] ESSAYS, HUMOUROUS, MORAL, and LITERARY, &c.

On EARLY MARRIAGES. TO JOHN ALLEYNS, ESQ.

DEAR JACK,

YOU desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on the subject of an early marriage, by way [...]f answer to the numberless objections that have [...] made by numerous persons to your own. You [...] 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 [...] under my observation, I am rather inclined [...] think, that early ones stand the best chance of happiness. The temper and habits of the young [...] not yet become so stiff and uncomplying, [...] when more advanced in life; they form more easily to each other, and hence many occasions of disgust are removed. And if youth has less of that prudence which is necessary to manage a family, yet the parents and elder friends of young married persons are generally at hand to offer their advice, which amply supplies that defect; and by early marriage, youth is sooner formed to regular and [Page 4] useful life; and possibly some of those accidents or connections, that might have injured the consti­tution, or reputation, or both, are thereby happily prevented. Particular circumstances of particular persons, may possibly sometimes make it prudent to delay entering into that state; but in general, when nature has rendered our bodies fit for it, the presumption is in nature's favour, that she has not judged amiss in making us desire it. Late-marri­ages are often attended, too, with this further in­convenience, that there is not the same chance that the parents shall live to see their offspring educated. "Late children," says the Spanish pro­verb, "are early orphans." A melancholy re­flection to those whose case it may be! With us in America marriages are generally in the morn­ing of life; our children are therefore educated and settled in the world by noon; and thus, our business being done, we have an afternoon and evening of cheerful leisure to ourselves, such as our friend at present enjoys. By these early marriages we are blessed with more children; and from the mode among us, founded by nature, of every mo­ther suckling and nursing her own child, more of them are raised. Thence the swift progress of 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 becoming a useful citizen; and you have escaped the unnatural state of celibacy for life—the fate of many here, who never intended it, [...] who having too long postponed the change of their condition, find, at length, that it is too late to think of it, and so live all their lives in a situation that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd vo­lume [Page 5] of a set of books bears not the value of its pro­portion to the set: what think you of the odd half of a pair of scissors? it can't well cut any thing; it may possibly serve to scrape a trencher.

Pray make my compliments and best wishes ac­ceptable to your bride. I am old and heavy, or I should ere this have presented them in person. I shall make but small use of the old man's pri­vilege, that of giving advice to younger friends. Treat your wife always with respect; it will pro­cure respect to you, not only from her, but from all that observe it. Never use a slighting expression to her, even in jest; for slights in jest, after fre­quent bandyings, are apt to end in anger earnest. Be studious in your profession, and you will be learned. Be industrious and frugal, and you will be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you will be healthy. Be in general virtuous, and you will be happy. At least, you will, by such conduct, stand the best chance for such consequences. I pray God to bless you both! being ever your affectionate friend,

B. FRANKLIN.

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 [Page 6] aside, when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embroy state, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born until he be dead. Why then should we grieve that a new child it born among the immortals, a new member added to their happy society? We are spirits. That bodies should be lent us, while they can afford [...] pleasure, assist us in acquiring knowledge, or do­ing good to our fellow-creatures, is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become un­fit for these purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid become an incumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some cases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled painful limb, which cannot be restored, we wil­lingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it: and [...] 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 were invited abroad on a party of pleasure, which is to last for ever. His chair was ready first; and he is gone before us. We could not all conveniently start together: and why should you and I be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find him?

Adieu.
B. FRANKLIN.
[Page 7]

TO THE LATE Doctor MATHER of BOSTON.

REV. SIR,

I RECEIVED your kind letter, with your ex­cellent advice to the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it will be duly re­garded. Such writings, though they may be lightly passed over by many readers, yet, if they make a deep impression on one active mind in a hundred, the effects may be considerable.

Permit me to mention one little instance, which, though it relates to myself, will not be quite unin­teresting to you. When I was a boy, I met with a book entitled, "Essays to do good," which I think was written by your father. It had been so little regarded by a former possessor, that several leaves of it were torn out; but the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking, as to have an influence on my conduct through life: for I have always set a greater value on the character of a doer of good, than any other kind of reputation; and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful citi­zen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book.

You mention your being in your seventy-eighth year. I am in my seventy-ninth. We are grown old together. It is now more than sixty years since I left Boston; but I remember well both your father and grandfather, having heard them both in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. The last time I saw your father was in the beginning [Page 8] of 1724, when I visited him after my first trip to Pennsylvania: he received me in his library; and on my taking leave, shewed me a shorter way out of the house, through a narrow passage, which was crossed by a beam over head. We were still talk­ing as I withdrew, he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly towards him, when he said hastily, "Stoop Stoop!" I did not understand him till I felt my head hit against the beam. He was a man who never missed any occasion of giv­ing instruction; and upon this he said to me: "You are young, and have the world before you: stoop as you go through it, and you will miss many hard thumps." This advice, thus beat into my heart, has frequently been of use to me; and I of­ten think of it, when I see pride mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying their heads too high.

I long much to see again my native place; and once hoped to lay my bones there. I left it in 1723. I visited it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 1763; and in 1773 I was in England. In 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not enter, it being in posses­sion of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783, but could not obtain my dismission from this employment here; and now I fear I shall ne­ver have that happiness. My best wishes howe­ver attend my dear country, "esto perpetua." It is now blessed with an excellent constitution: may it last for ever!

This powerful monarchy continues its friend­ship for the United States. It is a friendship of the utmost importance to our security, and should be carefully cultivated. Britain has not yet well digested the loss of its dominions over us; and has [Page 9] still at times some flattering hopes of recovering it. Accidents may increase those hopes, and encou­rage dangerous attempts. A breach between us and France would infallibly bring the English again upon our backs: and yet we have some wild beasts among our countrymen, who are endeavouring to weaken that connection.

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

With great and sincere esteem, I have the honour to be, Reverend Sir, Your most obedient and most humble servant, B. FRANKLIN.

THE WHISTLE. A TRUE STORY. WRITTEN TO HIS NEPHEW.

WHEN I was a child, at seven years old, my friends on a holiday, filled my pocket with cop­pers, I went directly to a shop where they sold toys for children; and being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered [Page 10] him all my money for one. I then came home, and went whistling all over the house, much pleas­ed with my whistle, but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understand­ing the 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 my money; and they laugh­ed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation; and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure.

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

As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I thought I met with many, very many, who gave too much for the whistle.

When I saw any one too ambitious of court fa­vours, sacrificing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends to attain it, I have said to myself, This man gives too much for his whistle.

When I saw another fond of popularity, con­stantly employing himself in political bustles, ne­glecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect: He pays indeed, says I, too much for his whistle.

If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem of his fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth: Poor man, says I, you do in­ [...]eed pay too much for your whistle.

[Page 11] When I meet a man of pleasure, sacrificing every 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 pleasure: you give too much for your whis­tle.

If I see one fond of fine clothes, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his career in prison; Alas, says I, he has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle.

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

In short, I conceive that great part of the mi­series of mankind were brought upon them by the false estimates they had made of the value of things, and by their giving too much for [...] whistles.

A PETITION TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE SUPER-INTENDENCY OF EDUCATION.

I ADDRESS myself to all the friends of youth, and conjure them to direct their compassionate regards to my unhappy fate, in order to remove the prejudices of which I am the victim. There are twin sisters of us: and the two eyes of man do not more resemble, nor are capable of being upon [Page 12] better terms with each other, than my sister and myself, were it not for the partiality of our parents, who make the most injurious distinctions between us. From my infancy I have been led to consider my sister as a being of a more elevated rank. I was suffered to grow up without the least instruction, while nothing was spared in her education. She had masters to teach her writing, drawing, music, and other accomplishments; but if by chance I touched a pencil, a pen, or a needle, I was bitterly rebuked; and more than once I have been beaten for being aukward, and wanting a graceful man­ner. It is true, my sister associated me with her upon some occasions▪ but she always made a point of taking the lead, calling upon me only from ne­cessity, or to figure by her side.

But conceive not, Sirs, that my complaints are instigated merely by vanity—No; my uneasiness is occasioned by one object much more serious. It is the practice in our family, that the whole busi­ness of providing for its subsistence falls upon my sister and myself. If any indisposition should at­tack my sister—and I mention it in confidence, upon this occasion, that she is subject to the gout, the rheumatism and cramp, without making men­tion of other accidents—what would be the fate of our poor family? Must not the regret of our pa­rents be excessive, at having placed so great a dif­ference between sisters who are so perfectly equal? Alas! we must perish from distress: for it would not be in my power even to scrawl a suppliant pe­tition for relief, having been obliged to employ the hand of another in transcribing the request which I have now the honour to prefer to you.

Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible [Page 13] of the injustice of an exclusive tenderness, and of the necessity of distributing their care and affection among all their children equally.

I am, with a profound respect, Sirs, Your obedient servant, THE LEFT HAND.

THE 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, becomes the one hap­py; and the other miserable. This arises very much from the different views in which they consider things, persons, and events; and the effect of those different views upon their own minds.

In whatever situation men can be placed, they may find conveniencies and inconveniencies: in whatever company, they may find persons and conversation more or less pleasing: at whatever table, they may meet with meats and drinks of better and worse taste, dishes better and worse dressed: in whatever climate they will find good and bad weather: un­der whatever government, they may find good and bad laws, and good and bad administration of those laws: in whatever poem, or work of genius, they may see faults and beauties: in almost every face, and every person, they may discover fine features and defects, good and bad qualities.

[Page 14] Under these circumstances, the two sorts of peo­ple above-mentioned, fix their attention, those who are disposed to be happy, on the conveniences of things, the pleasant parts of conversation, the well dressed dishes, the goodness of the wines, the fine weather, &c. and enjoy all with cheerfulness. Those who are to be unhappy, think and speak only of the contraries. Hence they are continu­ally discontented themselves, and, by their remarks, sour the pleasures of society; offend personally ma­ny people, and make themselves every where disa­greeable. If this turn of mind was founded in nature, such unhappy persons would be the more to be pitied. But as the disposition to criticise, and to be disgusted, is perhaps, taken up origi­nally by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into a habit, which, though at present strong, may ne­vertheless be cured, when those who have it are convinced of its bad effects on their felicity; I hope this little admonition may be of service to them, and put them on changing a habit, which, though in the exercise it is chiefly an act of ima­gination, yet has serious consequences in life, as it brings on real griefs and misfortunes. For as many are offended by, and nobody loves this sort of people; no one shews them more than the most common civility and respect, and scarcely that; and this frequently puts them out of humour, and draws them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or for­tune, nobody wishes them success, or will stir a step, or speak a word to favour their pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their misconduct, and render them completely odi­ous: [Page 15] If these people will not change this bad habit, and condescend to be pleased with what is pleasing, without fretting themselves and others about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid an acquaintance with them; which is always dis­agreeable, and sometimes very inconvenient, espe­cially when one finds one's self entangled in their quarrels.

An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from experience, very cautious in this particular, and carefully avoided any intimacy with such peo­ple. He had, like other philosophers, a thermo­meter to shew him the heat of the weather; and a barometer, to mark when it was likely to prove good or bad; but there being no instrument in­vented to discover, at first sight, this unpleasing disposition in a person, he, for that purpose, made use of his legs; one of which was remarkably handsome, the other, by some accident, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at the first interview, regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no notice of the handsome leg, that was sufficient to determine my philosopher to have no further ac­quaintance with him. Every body has not this two legged instrument; but every one, with a lit­tle attention, may observe signs of that carping, fault-finding disposition, and take the same resolu­tion of avoiding the acquaintance of those infected with it. I therefore advise those critical, queru­lous, discontented, unhappy people, that if they [...] to be respected and beloved by others, and happy in themselves, they should leave off looking at the ugly leg.

[Page 16]

CONVERSATION OF A COMPANY of EPHEMERAE; WITH THE SOLILOQUY OF ONE ADVANCED IN AGE.

TO MADAME BRILLIANT.

YOU may remember, my dear friend, that when we lately spent that happy day, in the delightful garden and sweet society of the Moulin Joly, I stopt a little in one of our walks, and staid some time behind the company. We had been shewn numberless skeletons of a kind of lit­tle fly, called an Ephemerae, whose successive ge­nerations, we were told, were bred and expired within the day. I happened to see a living com­pany of them on a leaf, who appeared to be engag­ed in conversation. You know I understand all the inferior animal tongues: my too great appli­cation to the study of them, is the best excuse I can give for the little progress I have made in your charming language. I listened through curiosity to the discourse of these little creatures; but as they, in their natural vivacity, spoke three or four together, I could make but little of their conver­sation. I found, however, by some broken expres­sions that I heard now and then, they were disput­ing warmly on the merit of two foreign [...] the one a cousin, the other a muscheto; in which dispute they spent their time, seemingly as regard­less of the shortness of life as if they had been sure [Page 17] of living a month. Happy people, thought I, you live certainly under a wise, just, and mild govern­ment, since you have no public grievances to com­plain of, nor any subject of contention, but the perfections or imperfections of foreign music. I turned my head from them to an old grey-headed one, who was single on another leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his soliloquy, I put it down in writing, in hopes it will likewise amuse her to whom I am so much indebted for the most pleasing of all amusements, her delicious company, and heavenly harmony.

"It was," says he, "the opinion of learned phi­losophers of our race, who lived and flourished long before my time, that this vast world the Moulin Jo­ly could not itself subsist more than eighteen hours: and I think there was some foundation for that opinion; since, by the apparent motion of the great luminary, that gives life to all nature, and which in my time has evidently declined considerably towards the ocean at the end of our earth, it must then finish its course, be extinguished in the waters that surround us, and leave the world in cold and darkness, necessarily producing universal death and destruction. I have lived seven of those hours; a great age, being no less than 420 minutes of time. How very few of us continue so long! I have seen generations born, flourish, and expire. My pre­sent friends are the children and grand-children of the friends of my youth, who are now, alas, no more! And I must soon follow them; for, by the course of nature, though still in health, I can­not expect to live above seven or eight minutes longer. What now avails all my toil and labour, in amassing honey-dew on this leaf, which I can­not [Page 18] live to enjoy! What the political struggles I have been engaged in, for the good of my com­patriot inhabitants of this bush, or my philosophi­cal studies, for the benefit of our race in general! for in politics (what can laws do without morals?) our present race of Ephemerae will in a course of minutes become corrupt, like those of other and older bushes, and consequently as wretched: And in philosophy how small our progress! Alas! art is long and life is short! My friends would com­fort me with the idea of a name, they say, I shall leave behind me; and they tell me I have lived long enough to nature and to glory. But what will same be to an Ephemerae who no longer exists? and what will become of all history in the eigh­teenth hour, when the world itself, even the whole Moulin Joly, shall come to its end, and be buried in universal ruin?"—

To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid plea­sures now remain, but the reflection of a long life spent in meaning well, the sensible conversation of a few good lady Ephemerae, and now and then a kind smile and a tune from the ever amiable Bril­liant.

B. FRANKLIN.

MORALS OF CHESS.

PLAYING at chess is the most ancient and most universal game known among men; for its original is beyond the memory of history, and [Page 19] it has, for numberless 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 part of America, and it begins lately to make its appearance in these states. It is so in­teresting in itself, as to not need the view of gain to induce engaging in it; and thence it is never played for money. Those, therefore, who have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one that is more innocent; and the following piece, written with a view to correct (among a few young friends) some little improprieties in the practice of it, shews, at the same time, that it may, in its effects on the mind, be not merely innocent, but advantageous, to the vanquished as well as the victor.

THE game of chess is not merely an idle amuse­ment. Several valuable qualities of the mind, use­ful in the course of human life, are to be acquired or strengthened by it, so as to become habits, rea­ [...] on all occasions. For life is a kind of chess, in which we have often points to gain, and competi­tors or adversaries to contend with, and in which there is a vast variety of good and ill events, that are, in some degree, the effects of prudence or the want of it. By playing at chess, then, we may learn,

I. Foresight, which looks a little into futurity, and considers the consequences that may attend an action: for it is continually occurring to the play­er, "If I move this piece, what will be the ad­vantage of my new situation? What use can my adversary make of it to annoy me? What other moves ca [...] I make to support it, and to defend my­self from [...]is attacks▪

[Page 20] II. Circumspection, which surveys the whole chess-board, or scene of action, the relations of the several pieces and situations, the dangers they are respectively exposed to, the several possibilities of their aiding each other, the probabilities that the adversary may take this or that move, and attack this or the other piece, and what different means can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its conse­quences against him.

III. Caution, not to make our moves too hasti­ly. This habit is best acquired by observing strictly the laws of the game, such as, ‘If you touch a piece, you must move it somewhere; if you set is down, you must let it stand;’ and it is therefore best that these rules should be ob­served, as the game thereby becomes more the image of human life, and particularly of war; in which, if you have incautiously put yourself into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot ob­tain your enemy's leave to withdraw your troops, and place them more securely, but you must abide all the consequences of your rashness.

And, lastly, we learn by chess the habit of not being discouraged by present bad appearances in the state of our affairs, the habit of hoping for a fa­vourable change, and that of persevering in the search of resources. The game is so full of events, there is such a variety of turns in it, the fortune of it is so subject to sudden vicissitudes, and one so frequently, after long contemplation, discovers the means of extricating oneself from a supposed insur­mountable difficulty, that one is encouraged to continue the contest to the last, in hopes of victo­ry by our own skill, or at least of giving a stale mate, by the negligence of our adversary. And [Page 21] whoever considers, what in chess he often sees in­stances of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce presumption, and its consequent inat­tention, by which the loss may be recovered, will learn not to be too much discouraged by the pre­sent success of his adversary, nor to despair of final good fortune, upon every little check he receives in the pursuit of it.

That we may, therefore, be induced more fre­quently to choose this beneficial amusement, in preference to others, which are not attended with the same advantages, every circumstance which may encrease the pleasures of it should be regard­ed; and every action or word that is unfair, disre­spectful, or that in any way may give uneasiness, should be avoided, as contrary to the immediate intention of both the players, which is to pass the time agreeably.

Therefore, first, if it is agreed to play ac [...]ord­ing to the strict rules; then those rules are to be exactly observed by both parties, and should not be insisted on for one side, while deviated from by the other—for this is not equitable.

Secondly, If it is agreed not to observe the rules exactly, but one party demands 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 practice.

Fourthly, if your adversary is long in playing, you ought not to hurry him, or express any unea­siness at his delay. You should not sing, nor whis­tle, nor look at your watch, nor take up a book to [Page 22] read, nor make a tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your fingers on the table, nor do any thing that may disturb his attention. For all these things displease, and they do not show your skill in playing, but your craftiness or your rudeness.

Fifthly, You ought not to endeavour to amuse and deceive your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying that you have now lost the game, in order to make him secure and care­less, and inattentive to your schemes; for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the game.

Sixthly, You must not, when you have gained a victory, use any triumphing or insulting expres­sion, nor show too much pleasure; but endeavour to console your adversary, and make him less dissa­tisfied with himself, by every kind of civil expres­sion that may be used with truth, such as, ‘You understand the game better than I, but you are a little inattentive;’ or, "You play too fast;" or, ‘you had the best of the game, but something happened to divert your thoughts, and that turned it in my favour.’

Seventhly, If you are a spectator while others play, observe the most perfect silence. For if you give advice, you offend both parties; him against whom you give it, because it may cause the loss of his game; him in whose favour you give it, be­cause, though it be good and he follows it, he los­es the pleasure he might have had, if you had per­mitted him to think until it had occurred to him­self. Even after a move, or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, show how it might have been placed better: for that displeases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about their true situ­ation. All talking to the players lessens or diverts [Page 23] their attention, and is therefore unpleasing. Nor should you give the least hint to either party, by any kind of noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or shew 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 moderate your desire of victory over your adversa­ry, and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage offered by his un­skilfulness or inattention; but point out to him kindly, that by such a move he places or leaves a piece in danger and unsupported; that by another he will put his King in a perilous situation, &c. By this generous civility (so opposite to the un­fairness above forbidden) you may, indeed, happen to lose the game to your opponent, but you will win what is better, his esteem, his respect, and his affection; together with the silent approbation and good-will of impartial spectators.

THE ART OF PROCURING PLEASANT DREAMS. INSCRIBED TO MISS ****, Being written at her request.

AS a great part of our life is spent in sleep, during which we have sometimes pleasing, and sometimes painful dreams, it becomes of some [Page 24] consequence to obtain the one kind, and avoid the other; for, whether real or imaginary, pain is pain, and pleasure is pleasure. If we can sleep without dreaming, it is well that paninful dreams are avoided. If, while we sleep, we can have any pleasing dreams, it is, as the French say, tunt gagnè, so much added to the pleasure of life.

To this end it is, in the first place, necessary to be careful in preserving health, by due exercise, and great temperance; for, in sickness, the ima­gination is disturbed; and disagreeable, sometimes terrible, ideas are apt to present themselves. Ex­ercise should precede meals, not immediately fol­low them: the first promotes, the latter, unless moderate, obstructs digestion. If, after exercise, we feed sparingly, the digestion will be easy and good, the body lightsome, the temper cheerful, and all the animal functions performed agreeably. Sleep, when it follows, will be natural and undis­turbed. While indolence, with full feeding, oc­casion nightmares and horrors inexpressible: we fall from precipices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murderers, and demons, and experience every va­riety of distress. Observe, however, that the quan­tities of food and exercise are relative things: those who move much may, and indeed ought to eat more; those who use little exercise, should eat little. In ge­neral, mankind, since the improvement of cookery, eat about twice as much as nature requires. Sup­pers are not bad, if we have not dined; but rest­less nights naturally follow hearty suppers, after full dinners. Indeed, as there is a difference in constitutions, some rest well after these meals; it costs them only a frightful dream, and an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing i [...] [Page 25] more common in the newspapers, than instances of people, who, after eating a hearty supper, are found dead a-bed in the morning.

Another means of preserving health, to be at­tended to, is the having a constant supply of fresh air in your bed-chamber. It has been a great mistake, the sleeping in rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded by curtains. No outward air, that may come into you, is so unwholsome as the unchanged air, often breathed, of a close cham­ber. As boiling water does not grow hotter by longer boiling, if the particles that receive greater heat can escape; so living bodies do not putrify, if the particles, as fast as they become putrid, can be thrown off. Nature expels them by the pores of the skin and lungs, and in a free open air, they are carried off; but, in a close room, we receive them again and again, though they become more and more corrupt. A number of persons crowded into a small room, thus spoil the air in a few mi­nutes, and even render it mortal, as in the Black Hole at Calcutta. A single person is said to spoil only a gallon of air per minute, and therefore re­quires a longer time to spoil a chamber-full; but it is done, however, in proportion, and many putrid disorders hence have their origin. It is recorded of Methusalem, who, being the longest liver, may be supposed to have best preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air; for, when he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to him: ‘Arise, Methusalem; and build thee an house, for thou shalt live yet five hundred years longer.’ But Methusalem answered and said: ‘If I am to live but five hundred years longer, it is not [Page 26] worth while to build me an house—I will sleep in the air as I have been used to do.’ Physici­ans, after having for ages contended that the sick should not be indulged with fresh air, have at length discovered that it may do them good. It is there­fore to be hoped that they may in time discover like­wise that it is not hurtful to those who are in health; and that we may be then cured of the aërophobia that at present distresses weak minds, and make them choose to be stifled and poisoned, rather than leave open the windows of a bed-chamber, or put down the glass of a coach.

Confined air, when saturated with perspirable matter* will not receive more; and that matter must remain in our bodies, and occasion diseases: but it gives some previous notice of its being a­bout to be hurtful, by producing certain uneasi­nesses, slight indeed at first, such as, with regard to the lungs, is a trifling sensation, and to the pores of the skin a kind of restlessness which is dif­ficult to describe, and few that feel it know the cause of it. But we may recollect, that sometimes, on waking in the night, we have, if warmly co­vered, found it difficult to get asleep again. We turn often without finding repose in any position. This figgettiness, 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 [Page 27] by an experiment, let a person keep his position in the bed, but throw off the bed-clothes, and suffer fresh air to approach the part uncovered of his body; he will then feel that part suddenly refresh­ed; for the air will immediately relieve the skin, by receiving, licking up, and carrying off, the load of perspirable matter that incommoded it. For every portion of cool air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its part of that vapour, receives therewith a degree of heat, that rarifies and ren­ders it lighter, when it will be pushed away, with its burthen by cooler, and therefore heavier fresh air; which, for a moment, supplies its place, and then, being likewise changed, and warmed, gives way to a succeeding quantity. This is the order of nature, to prevent animals being infected by their own perspiration. He will now be sensible of the difference between the part exposed to the air, and that which, remaining sunk in the bed, denies the air access: for this part now manifests its uneasiness more distinctly by the comparison, and the seat of the uneasiness is more plainly per­ceived, than when the whole surface of the body was affected by it.

Here then, is one great and general cause of un­pleasing dreams. For when the body is uneasy, the mind will be disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of various kinds, will, in sleep, be the natural consequences. The remedies, preventative, and curative, follow:

1. By eating moderately, (as before advised for health's sake) less perspirable matter is produced in a given time; hence the bed clothes receive it longer before they are saturated; and we may, [Page 28] therefore, sleep longer, before we are made uneasy by their refusing to receive any more.

2. By using thinner and more porous bed-clothes, which will suffer the perspirable matter more easily to pass through them, we are less incommoded, such being longer tolerable.

3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and find you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat up and turn your pillow, shake the bed­clothes well, with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open, and leave it to cool; in the meanwhile, continuing undrest, walk about your chamber, till your skin has had time to discharge its load, which it will do sooner as the air may be drier and colder. When you begin to feel the cold air unpleasant, then return to your bed; and you will soon fall asleep, and your sleep will be sweet and pleasant. All the scenes presented to your fancy, will be of the pleasing kind. I am often as agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery of an opera. If you happen to be too in­dolent to get out of bed, you may, instead of it, lift up your bed-clothes with one arm and leg, so as to draw in a good deal of fresh air, and, by letting them fall, force it out again. This, repeated twenty times, will so clear them of the perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to permit your sleeping well for some time afterwards. But this latter me­thod is not equal to the former.

Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to have two beds, will find great luxury in rising, when they wake in a hot bead, and going into the cool one. Such shifting of beds would also be of great service to persons ill of a fev [...]r, as it refresh­es and frequently procures sleep. A [...] large [Page 29] bed, that will admit a removal so distant from the first situation as to be cool and sweet, may in a degree answer the same end.

One or two observations more will conclude this little piece. Care must be taken, when you lie down, to dispose your pillow so as to suit your man­ner of placing your head, and to be perfectly easy; then place your limbs so as not to bear inconveni­ently hard upon one another, as, for instance, the joints of your ancles: for though a bad position may at first give but little pain, and be hardly noticed, yet a continuence will render it less tole­rable, and the uneasiness may come on while you are asleep, and disturb your imagination.

These are the rules of the art. But though they will generally prove effectual in producing the end intended, there is a case in which the most punc­tual observance of them will be totally fruitless. I need not mention the case to you my dear friend: but my account of the art would be imperfect without it. The case is, when the person who de­sires to have pleasant dreams has not taken care to preserve, what is necessary above all things, A GOOD CONSCIENCE.

[Page 30]

ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. WRITTEN ANNO 1748. To my Friead A. B.

As you have desired it of me, I write the following hints, which have been of service to me, and may, if observed, be so to you.

REMEMBER that time is money. He that can earn ten shillings a day by his labour, and goes abroad, or sits idle one half of that day, though he spends but sixpence during his diversi­on or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only expence; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides.

Remember that credit is money. If a man lets his money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so much as I can make of it during that time. This amounts to a considera­ble sum when a man has good and large credit, and makes good use of it.

Remember that money is of a prolific genera­ting nature. Money can beget money, and its offspring can beget more, and so on. Five shil­lings turned is six; turned again, it is seven and three pence; and so on till it becomes an hun­dred pounds. The more there is of it, the more it produces, every turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He that kills a breeding sow, destroys all her offspring to the thousandth generation. He that murders a crown, destroys [Page 31] all that it might have produced, even scores of pounds.

Remember that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. For this little sum, which may be daily wasted either in time or expence, 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 is lord of another man's purse." He that is known to pay punctually and exactly to the time he pro­mises, may at any time, and on any occasion, raise all the money his friends can spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry and fru­gality, nothing contributes more to the raising of a young man in the world, than punctuality and justice in all his dealings: therefore never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you promised, left a disappointment shut up your friend's purse for ever.

The most trifling actions that effect a man's credit are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer; but if he sees you at a billiard table, or hears your voice at a tavern, when you should be at work, he sends for his money the next day; de­mands it before he can receive it in a lump.

It shews, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe; it makes you appear a careful, as well as an honest man, and that still increases your credit.

Beware of thinking all your own that you pos­sess, and of living accordingly. It is a mistake [Page 32] that many people 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 trifling expences mount up to large sums, and will discern what might have been, and may for the future be saved, without occasioning any great inconvenience.

In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as the way to market. It depends chiefly on two words, industry and frugality; that is, waste neither time nor money, but make the best use of both. Without industry and frugali­ty nothing will do, and with them every thing. He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets, (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.

NECESSARY HINTS TO THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH. WRITTEN ANNO 1736.

THE use of money is all the advantage there is in having money.

[Page 33] For six pounds a year you may have the use of one hundred pounds, provided you are a man of known prudence and honesty.

He that spends a groat a day idly, spends idly above six pounds a year, which is the price for the use of one hundred pounds.

He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time per day, one day with another, wastes the privilege of using one hundred pounds each day.

He that idly loses five shillings worth of time, loses five shillings, and might as prudently throw five shillings into the sea.

He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but all the advantage 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 what he buys; and he that pays ready money, might let that money out to use: so that he that posses any thing he has bought, pays interest for the use of it.

Yet, in buying goods, it is best to pay ready money, because, he that sells upon credit, expects to lose five per cent. by bad debts; therefore he char­ges, on all he sells upon credit, an advance that shall make up that deficiency.

Those who pay for what they buy upon credit, pay their share of this advance.

He that pays ready money, escapes, or may escape, that charge.

A Penny sav'd is two-pence clear;
A pin a day's a groat a year.
[Page 34]

THE WAY TO MAKE MONEY PLENTY IN EVERY MAN's POCKET.

AT this time, when the general complaint is that—"money is scarce," it will be an act of kindness to inform the moneyless how they may reinforce their pockets. I will acquaint them with the true secret of money-catching—the certain way to fill empty purses—and how to keep them always full. Two simple rules, well observed, will do the business.

First, let honesty and industry be thy constant companions; and,

Secondly, spend one penny less than thy clear gains.

Then shall thy hide-bound pocket soon begin to thrive, and will never again cry with the emp­ty belly ache: neither will creditors insult thee, nor want oppress, nor hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will shine brighter, and pleasure spring up in every corner of thy heart. Now, therefore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live independent. Then shalt thou be a man, and not hide thy face at the ap­proach of the rich, nor suffer the pain of feeling little when the sons of fortune walk at thy right hand: for independency, whether with little or much, is good fortune, and placeth thee on even ground with the proudest of the golden fleece. Oh then, be wise, and let industry walk with thee [Page 35] in the morning, and attend thee until thou reachest the evening hour for rest. Let honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and never forget to have a penny, when all thy expences are enume­rated and paid: then shalt thou reach the point of happiness, and independence shall be thy shield and buckler, thy helmet and crown; then shall thy soul walk upright, nor stoop to the silken wretch because he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse because the hand which offers it wears a ring set with diamonds.

AN OECONOMICAL PROJECT.
[A Translation of this Letter appeared in one of the Daily Papers of Paris about the Year 1784. The following is the Original Piece, with some Additions and Corrections made in it by the Author.]

To the AUTHORS of the JOURNAL. MESSIEURS.

YOU often entertain us with accounts of new discoveries. Permit me to communicate to the public, through your 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, [Page 36] where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, and much admired for its splendor; but a general enquiry was made, whe­ther the oil it consumed, was not in proportion to the light it afforded, in which case there would be no saving in the use of it. No one present could satisfy us in that point, which all agreed ought to be known, it being a very desirable thing to lessen, if possible, the expence of lighting our apartments, when every other article of family ex­pence was so much augmented.

I was pleased to see this general concern for oe­conomy; for I love oeconomy exceedingly.

I went home, and to bed, three or four hours af­ter midnight, with my head full of the subject. An accidental sudden noise waked me about six in the morning, when I was surprised to find my room filled with light; and I imagined at first, that a number of those lamps had been brought into it: but, rubbing my eyes, I perceived the light came in at the windows. I got up and looked out to see what might be the occasion of it, when I saw the sun just rising above the horizon, from whence he poured his rays plentifully into my chamber, my domestic having negligently omitted the preceding evening to close the shutters.

I looked at my watch, which goes very well, and found that it was but six o'clock: and still think­ing it something extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I looked into the 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. [Page 37] Your readers, who with me have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and seldom regard the astronomical part of the almanack, will be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his rising so early; and especially when I assure them, that he gives light as soon as he rises. I am con­vinced of this. I am certain of the fact. One cannot be more certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And having repeated this observation the three following mornings, I found always pre­cisely the same result.

Yet so it happens, that when I speak of this dis­covery to others, I can easily perceive by their countenances, though they forbear expressing it in words, that they do not quite believe me. One indeed, who is a learned natural philosopher, has assured me that I must certainly be mistaken as to the circumstance of the light coming into my room: for it being well known, as he says, that there could be no light abroad at that hour, it follows that none could enter from without: and that of consequence, my windows being acci­dentally left open, instead of letting in the light, had only served to let out the darkness: and he used many ingenious arguments to shew me how I might, by that means, have been deceived. I own that he puzzled me a little, but he did not satisfy me; and the subsequent observations I made, as above mentioned, confirmed me in my first opi­nion.

This event has given rise, in my mind, to seve­ral serious and important reflections. I considered that, if I had not been awakened so early in the morning, I should have slept six hours longer by the light of the sun, and in exchange have lived [Page 38] six hours the following night by candle light; and the latter being a much more expensive light than the former, my love of oeconomy induced me to muster up what little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calculations, which I shall give you, after observing, that utility is, in my opinion, the test of value in matters of invention, and that a discovery which can be applied to no use, or is not good for something, is good for nothing.

I took for the basis of my calculation the suppo­sition that there are 100,000 families in Paris, and that these families consume in the night half a pound of bougies, or candles, per hour. I think this is a moderate allowance, taking one fa­mily with another; for though I believe some consume less, I know that many consume a great deal more. Then estimating seven hours per day, as the medium quantity between the time of the sun's rising and ours, he rising during the six fol­lowing months from six to eight hours before noon, and there being seven hours of course per night in which we burn candles, the account will stand thus—

  • In the six months between the twen­tieth of March and the twentieth of September, there are Nights 183
  • Hours of each night in which we burn candles 7
  • Multiplication gives for the total number of hours 1,281
  • These 1,281 hours multiplied by 100,000, the number of inhabitan [...] give 128,100,000
  • One hundred twenty eight millions [Page 39] and one hundred thousand hours, spent at Paris by candle-light, which, at half a pound of wax and tallow per hour, gives the weight of 64,050,000
  • Sixty-four millions and fifty thou­sand of pounds, which, estimat­ing the whole at the medium price of thirty sols the pound, makes the sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres tournois 96,075,000

An immense sum! that the city of Paris might save every year, by the oeconomy of using sunshine instead of candles.

If it should be said, that the people are apt to be obstinately attached to old customs, and that it will be difficult to induce them to rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be of little use; I answer, Nil desperandum. I believe all who have common sense, as soon as they have learnt from this paper that it is day-light when the sun rises, will contrive to rise with him; and, to compel the rest, I would propose the following regulations:

First. Let a tax be laid of a louis per window, on every window that is provided with shutters to keep out the light of the sun.

Second. Let the same salutary operation of po­lice be made use of to prevent our burning can­dles, that inclined us last winter to be more oeco­nomical in burning wood; that is, let guards be placed in the shops of the wax and tallow chand­lers, and no family be permitted to be supplied with more than one pound of candles per week.

Third. Let guards be posted to stop all the [Page 40] coaches, &c. that would pass the streets after sun-set, except those of physicians, surgeons and midwives.

Fourth. Every morning, as soon as the sun rises, let all the bells in every church be set ringing; and if that is not sufficient, let cannon be fired in every street, and wake the sluggards effectually, and make them open their eyes to see their true interest.

All the difficulty will be in the first two or three days; after which the reformation will be as na­tural and easy as the present irregularity: for, ce [...] que le pr [...]m [...]r pas qui coute. Oblige a man to rise to four in the morning, and it is more than probable he shall go willingly to bed at eight in the evening; and, having had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly at four the morning fol­lowing. But this sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres is not the whole of what may be saved by my oeconomical project. You may observe, that I have calculated upon only one half of the year, and much may be saved in the other▪ though the days are shorter. Besides, the immense stock of wax and tallow lest unconsumed during the summer, will probably make candles much cheaper for the ensuing winter, and contin [...]e cheap­er as long as the proposed reformation shall be sup­ported.

For the great benefit of this discovery, thus free­ly communicated and bestowed by me on the pub­lic, I demand neither place, pension, exclusive pri­vilege, nor any other reward whatever. I expect only to have the honour of it. And yet I know there are little envious minds who will, as usual, deny me this, and say that my invention was known to the ancients, and perhaps they may bring pas­sages [Page 41] out of the old books in proof of it. I will not dispute with these people that the ancients knew not the sun would rise at certain hours; they possibly had, as we have, almanacks that predicted it: but it does not follow from thence that they knew he gave light as soon as he rose. This is what I claim as my discovery. If the ancients knew it, it must have long since been forgotten, for it certainly was unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians; which to prove, I need use but one plain simple argument. They are as well instructed, judicious, and prudent a people as exist any where in the world, all professing, like myself, to be lovers of oeconomy; and, from the many heavy taxes required from them by the necessities of the state, have surely reason to be oeconomical. I say it is impossible that so sensible a people, under such circumstances, should have lived so long by the smoky, unwholesome, and enormously expensive light of candles, if they had really known that they might have had as much pure light of the sun for nothing. I am, &c.

AN ABONNE.
[Page 42]

On MODERN INNOVATIONS in the ENGLISH LANGUAGE, and in PRINTING.

DEAR SIR,

I RECEIVED, some time since, your Dissertations on the English Language. It is an excellent work, and will be greatly useful in turning the thoughts of our countrymen to correct writing. Please to ac­cept my thanks for it, as well as for the great honor you have done me in its dedication. I ought to have made this acknowledgement sooner, but much in­disposition prevented me.

I cannot but applaud your zeal for preserving the purity of our language both in its expression and pronunciation, and in correcting the popular errors several of our states are continually falling into with respect to both. Give me leave to men­tion some of them, though possibly they may alrea­dy have occurred to you. I wish, however, that in some future publication of yours you would set a discountenancing mark upon them. The first I remember, is the word improved. When I left New-England in the year 1723, this word had ne­ver been used among us, as far as I know, but in the sense of ameliorated, or made better, 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 read [...]at word in his book, used instead of the word [Page 43] employed, I conjectured that it was an error of the printer, who had mistaken a short l in the writing for an r, and a y with too short a tail for a v, whereby employed was converted into improved: but when I returned to Boston in 1733, I found this change [...] 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 to be sold, which had been many years improved as a tavern; and in the character of a deceased country gentlemen, that he had been, for more than thirty years, im­proved as a justice of the peace. This use of the word improve is peculiar to New-England, and not to be met with among any other speakers of En­glish, either on this or the other side of the water.

During my late absence in France, I find that several other new words have been introduced in­to our 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, &c. Also another verb, from the sub­stantive advocate; The gentleman who advocates, or who has advocated that motion, &c. Another from the substantive progress, the most awkward and abominable of the three: The committee hav­ing progressed, resolved to adjourn. The word op­posed, though not a new word, I find used in a new manner, as, The gentlemen who are opposed to this measure, to which I have also myself always been opposed. If you should happen to be of my opinion with respect to these innovations, you will use your authority in reprobating them.

[Page 44] The Latin language, long the vehicle used in distributing knowledge among the different nations of Europe, is daily more and more neglected; and one of the modern tongues, viz. French, seems in point of universality, to have supplied its place. It is spoken in all the courts of Europe; and most of the literati, those even who do not speak it, have acquired knowledge of it, to enable them ea­sily to read the books that are written in it. This gives a considerable advantage to that nation. It enables its authors to 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 common interests of mankind. It is, perhaps, owing to its being written in French, that 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 are struck off from one composition of types, the profits in­crease in a much greater proportion than they do in making a greater number of pieces in any other kind of manufacture. And at present there is no capital town in Europe without a French bookseller's shop corresponding with Paris. Our English bids fair to obtain the second place. The great body of excellent printed sermons in our language, and the freedom of our writings on political sub­jects, have induced a great number of divines of different sects and nations, as well as gentlemen concerned in public affairs to study it, so far at [Page 45] least as to read it. And if 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 themselves, operated as great ones in obstructing their progress. A book, for example, ill printed, or a pronunciation in speaking not well articulated, would render a sentence un­intelligible, which from a clear print, or a distinct speaker, would have been Immediately comprehend­ed. If therefore, we would have the benefit of seeing our language more generally known among mankind, we should endeavour to remove all the difficulties, however small, that discourage the learning of it. But I am sorry to observe, that of late years, those dff [...]iculties, instead of being dimi­nished, have been augmented.

In examining the English books that were print­ed between the restoration and the accession of George the Second, we may observe, that all sub­stantives were begun with a capital, in which we imitated our mother tongue, the German. This was more particularly useful to those who were not well acquainted with the English, there being such a prodigious number of our words that are both verbs and substantives, and spelt in the same man­ner, though often accented differntly in pronunciation. This method has, by the fancy of printers, of late years, been entirely laid aside; from an idea, that suppressing the capitals shews the character to greater advantage; those letters, prominent above the line, disturbing its even, re­gular [Page 46] appearance. The effect of this change is so considerable, that a learned man in France, who used to read our books, though not perfectly ac­quainted with our language, in conversation with▪ me on the subject of our authors attributed the greater obscurity he found in our modern books, compared with those written in the period above mentioned, to change of style for the worse in our writers; of which mistake I convinced him, by marking for him each substantive with a capital, in a paragraph, which he then easily understood, though before he could not comprehend it. This shews the inconvenience of that pretended improve­ment.

From the same fondness for an uniform and e­ven appearance of characters in the 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 another fancy has induced other printers to use the round s instead of the long one, which formerly served well to distinguish a word readily by its varied appearance. Certainly the omitting this prominent letter makes a line appear more even, but renders it less immediately legible; as the paring of all men's noses might smooth and level their faces, but would render their physiog­nomies less distinguishable. Add to all these im­provements backwards, another modern fancy, 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 [Page 47] Gentleman's Magazine, printed between the years. 1731 and 1740, with one of those printed in the last ten years, will be convinced of the much greater degree of perspicuity given by black than by the grey. Lord Chesterfield pleasantly remarked this difference to Faulkener, the printer of the Dublin Journal, who was vainly making encomiums on his own paper, as the most complete of any in the world. "But Mr. Faulkener," says my lord, ‘don't you think it might be still farther improved, by using paper and ink not quite so near of a colour.’—For all these reasons I cannot but wish that our Ame­rican printers would, in their editions, avoid these fancied improvements, and thereby render their works more agreeable to foreigners in Europe, to the great advantage of our bookselling commerce.

Farther, to be more sensible of the advantage of clear and distinct printing, let us consider the as­sistance it affords in reading well aloud to an au­ditory. In so doing the eye generally slides for­ward three or four words before the voice. If the sight clearly distinguishes what the coming words are, it gives time to order the modulation of the voice, to express them properly. But if they are obscurely printed, or disguised by omit­ing the capitals and long s's. or otherwise, the reader is apt to modulate wrong, and finding he has done so, he is obliged to go back and begin the sentence again; which lessens the pleasure of the hearers. This leads me to mention an old er­ror in our mode of printing. We are sensible that when a question is met with in the reading, there is a proper variation to be used in the management [Page 48] of the voice. We have, therefore, a point, called an interrogation, affixed to the question, in order to distinguish it. But this is absurdly placed at its end, so that the reader does not discover it till he finds that he has wrongly modulated his voice, and is therefore obliged to begin again the sentence. To prevent this, the Spanish printers, more sensi­bly, place an interrogation at the bgnining as well as at the end of the question. We have another error of the same kind in printing plays, where something often occurs that is marked as spoken aside. But the word aside is placed at the end of of the speech, when it ought to precede it, as a direc­tion to the reader, that he may govern his voice accordingly. The practice of our ladies in meet­ing five or six together, to form little busy parties, where each is employed in some useful work, while one reads to them, is so commendable in itself, that it deserves the attention of authors and printers to make it as pleasing as possible, both to the reader and hearers.

My best wishes attend you, being, with sincere esteem,

Sir,
Your most obedient and very humble servant, B. FRANKLIN.
[Page 49]

An ACCOUNT of the HIGHEST COURT of JUDICATURE in PENNSYLVANIA, viz. THE COURT OF THE PRESS.

Power of this Court.

IT may receive and promulgate accusations of all kinds, against all persons and characters among the citizens of the state, and even against all inferior courts; and may judge, sentence, and condemn to infamy, not only private individuals, but public bodies, &c. with or without enquiry or hearing, at the court's discretion.

Whose favour, or for whose emoluments this Court is established.

In favour of about one citizen in five hundred, who, by education, or practice in scribbling, has acquired a tolerable style as to grammar and con­struction, so as to bear printing; or who is possessed of a press and a few types. This five hundredth part of the citizens have the privilege of accusing and abusing the other four hundred and ninety-nine parts at their pleasure; or they may hire out their pens and press to others, for that purpose.

Practice of this Court.

It is not governed by any of the rules of the common courts of law. The accused is allowed no grand jury to judge of the truth of the accusa­tion before it is publicly made; nor is the name [Page 50] of the accuser made known to him; nor has he an opportunity of confronting the witnesses against him, for they are kept in the dark, as in the Spa­nish court of inquisition. Nor is there any petty jury of his peers sworn to try the truth▪ of the charges. The proceedings are also sometimes so rapid, that an honest good citizen may find himself suddenly and unexpectedly accused, and in the same morning judged and condemned, and sentence pronounced against him that he is a rogue and a villain. Yet if an officer of this court receives the slightest check for misconduct in this his office, he claims immedi­ately the rights of a free citizen by the constitution, and demands to know his accuser, to confront the witnesses, and to have a fair trial by a jury of his peers.

The foundation of its authority.

It is said to be founded on an article in the state constitution, which establishes the liberty of the press—a liberty which every Pennsylvanian would fight and die for, though few of us, I believe, have distinct ideas of its 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, were understood merely the liberty of discussing the propriety of public measures and political opi­nions, let us have as much of it as you please; but if it means the liberty of affronting, calumniating, and defaming one another, I, for my part, own myself willing to part with my snare of it, whenever our legislators shall please so to alter the law and shall cheerfully consent to exchange my liber­ty [Page 51] of abusing others, for the privilege of not being abused myself.

By whom this court is commissioned or constituted.

It is not any commission from the supreme exe­cutive council, who might previously judge of the abilities, integrity, knowledge, &c. of the persons to be appointed to this great trust of deciding up­on the characters and good fame of the citizens: for this court is above that council, and may accuse, judge, and condemn it at pleasure. Nor is it he­reditary, as is the court of dernier resort in the peerage of England. But any man who can pro­cure pen, ink, and paper, with a press, a few types, and a huge pair of blacking balls, may commission­ate himself, and his court is immediately establish­ed in the plenary possession and exercise of its rights. For if you make the least complaint of the judge's conduct, he daubs his blacking balls in your face wherever he meets you, and besides fearing 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, no [...] improved by good education.

There is a lust in man no charm can tame,
Of loudly publishing his neighbour's shame.

Hence,

On eagles' wings, immortal, scandals fly,
While virtuous actions are but born and die.

[Page 52] Whoever feels pain in hearing a good character of his neighbour, will feel a pleasure in the reverse. And of those who, despairing to rise to distinction by their virtues, are happy if others can be depress­ed to a level with themselves, there are a number sufficient in every great town to maintain one of these courts by their subscription. A shrewd ob­server once said, that in walking in the streets of a slippery morning, one might see where the good na­tured people lived, by the ashes thrown on the ice before the doors; probably he would have formed a different conjecture of the temper of those whom he might find engaged in such subscriptions.

Of the checks proper to be established against the abuses of power in those courts.

Hitherto there are none. But since so much has been written and published on the federal con­stitution; and the necessity of checks, in all other parts of good government, has been so clearly and learnedly explained, I find myself so far enlighten­ed as to suspect some check may be proper in this part also: but I have been at a loss to imagine any that may not be construed an infringement of the sacred liberty of the press. At length, how­ [...]er, I think I have found one, that instead of di­minishing general liberty, shall augment it; which is, by restoring to the people a species of liberty of which they have been deprived by our laws, I mean the [...] liberty of the cudgel! In the rude state of society, prior to the existence of laws, if one man gave another Ill language, the affronted per­son might return it by a box on the ear; and if repeated, by a good drubbing; and this without offending against any law▪ but now the right of [Page 53] 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, pari passu. Thus, my fellow citizens, if an impudent writer attacks your reputa­tion—dearer perhaps to you than your life, and puts his name to the charge, you may go to him as openly and break his head. If he conceals him­self behind the printer, and you can nevertheless discover who he is, you may in like manner, way­lay him in the night, attack him behind, and give him a good drubbing. If your adversary hires bet­ter writers than himself, to abuse you more effec­tually, you may hire brawny porters, stronger than yourself, to assist you, in giving him a more effectu­al drubbing. Thus far goes my project, as to pri­vate resentment and retribution. But if the public should ever happen to be affronted, as it ought to be, with the conduct of such writers, I would not advise proceeding immediately to these extremities, but that we should in moderation content ourselves with tarring and feathering, and tossing them in a blanket.

If, however, it should be thought that this pro­posal of mine may disturb the public peace, I would then humbly recommend to our legislators to take up the consideration of both liberties, that of the press, and that of the cudgel; and by an explicit law mark their extent and limits: and at the same time that they secure the person of a ci­tizen [Page 54] from assaults, they would likewise provide for the security of his reputation.

PAPER: A POEM.

SOME wit of old—such wits of old there were—
Whose hints show'd meaning whose allusions care,
By one brave stroke to mark all human kind,
Call'd clear blank paper ev'ry infant mind;
When still, as op'ning sense her dictates wrote,
Fair Virtue put a seal, or Vice a blot.
The thought was happy, pertinent, and true;
Methinks a genius might the plan pursue.
I, (can you pardon my presumption? I—)
No wit, no genius, yet for once will try.
Various the papers various wants produce,
The wants of fashion, elegance, and use.
Men are as various: and, if right I scan,
Each sort of paper represents some man.
Pray note the fop—half powder and half lace—
Nice, as a band-box were his dwelling-place;
He's the gilt paper, which apart you store,
And lock from vulgar hands in the 'scrutoire.
Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth,
Are copy paper, of inferior worth;
Less priz'd, more useful, for your desk decreed,
Free to all pens, and prompt at ev'ry need.
The wretch whom av'rice bids to pinch and [...]part,
Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir.
[Page 55] Is coarse brown paper; such as pedlers choose
To wrap up wares, which better men will use.
Take next the Miser's contrast, who destroys
Health, same, and fortune, in a round of joys.
Will any paper match him? Yes, thro' out,
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 forms with censure; with applause he raves—
[...] dupe to rumours, and a tool of knaves;
He'll want no type his weakness to proclaim,
While such a thing as fools- [...]ap 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 our poets, take them as they fall,
Good, bad, rich, poor, much read, not read at all?
Them and their works in the same class you'll find;
They are the mere waste-paper of mankind.
Observe the maiden, innocently sweet,
She's fair white-paper, an unsullied sheet;
On which the happy man whom fate ordains,
May write his name, and take her for his pains.
One instance more, and only one 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 the kinds most precious, purest, best.
[Page 55]

ON THE ART OF SWIMMING.
In answer to some enquiries of M. Dubourg* on the subject.

I AM apprehensive that I shall not be able to find leisure for making all the disquisitions and experiments which would be desirable on this sub­ject. I must, therefore, 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 upon water

The diving bell is accurately described in our 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 pallets. In swimming I pushed the edges of these forward, and I struck the water with their flat surfaces as I drew them back. I remember I swam faster by means of these pallets, but they fa­tigued my wrists.—I also fitted to the soles of my feet a kind of sandals; but I was not satisfied with them, because I observed that the stroke is partly given with the inside of the feet and the ancles, and not entirely with the soles of the feet.

[Page 57] We have here waistcoats for swimming, which are made of double sail-cloth, with small pieces of cork quilted in between them.

I know nothing of the scaphandre of M. de la Chapell [...].

I know by experience that it is a great comfort to a swimmer, who has a considerable distance to go, to turn himself sometimes on his back, and to vary in other respects the means of procuring a progressive motion.

When he is seized with the cramp in the leg, the method of driving it away is to give to the parts affected a sudden, vigorous, and violent shock; which he may do in the air as he swims on his back.

During the great heats of summer there is no danger in bathing, however warm we may be, in rivers which have been thoroughly warmed by the sun. But to throw oneself into cold spring water, when the body has been heated by exercise in the sun, is an imprudence which may prove fatal. I once knew an instance of four young men, who, having worked at harvest in the hea [...] of the day, with a view of refreshing themselves plunged into a spring of cold water: two died upon the spot, a third the next morning, and the fourth recovered with great difficulty. A copious draught of cold water, in similar circumstances, is frequently attend­ed with the same effect in North America.

The exercise of swimming is one of the most healthy and agreeable in the world. After having swam for an hour or two in the evening, one sleeps coolly the whole night, even during the most ar­dent heat of summer. Perhaps the pores being cleansed, the insensible perspiration increases and [Page 58] occasions this coolness.—It is certain that much swimming is the means of stopping a diarrhea, and even of producing a constipation. With re­spect to those who do not know how to swim, or who are affected with a diarrhoea at a season which does not permit them to use that exercise, a warm bath, by cleansing and purifying the skin, is found very salutary, and often effects a radical cure. I speak from my own 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 laborious and fatiguing operation when the space of water to be crossed is considerable; there is a method in which a swimmer may pass to great distances with much facility, by means of a fail. This discovery I 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 bank of a pond, which was near a mile broad, I tied the string to a stake, and the kite ascended to a very considerable height above the pond, while I was swimming. In a little time, being desirous of amusing myself with my kite, and enjoying at the same time the pleasure of swimming, I returned; and loosing from the stake the string with the little stick which was fastened to it, went again into the water, where I found, that, lying on my back and holding the stick in my hands, I was draws along the surface of the water in a very agreeable [...]. Having then engaged another boy to [Page 59] carry my clothes round the pond, to a place which I pointed out to him on the other side, I began to cross the pond with my kite, which carried me quite over without the least fatigue, and with the greatest pleasure imaginable. I was only obliged occasionally to halt a little in my course, and resist its progress, when it appeared that, by following too quick, I lowered the kite too much: by doing which occasionally I made it rise again.—I have never since that time practised this singu­lar mode of swimming, though I think it not im­possible to cross in this manner from Dover to Ca­lais. The packet-boat, however, is still prefer­able.

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

I GREATLY approve the epithet you give, in your letter of the 8th of June, to the new me­thod of treating the small-pox, which you call the tonic or bracing method; I will take occasion, from it, to mention a practice to which I have ac­customed myself. You know the cold bath has long been in vogue here as a tonic; but the shock of the cold water has 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 [Page 60] 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 least painful, but, on the contrary, agreeable; and if I return to bed afterwards, before I dress my­self, as sometimes happens, I make a supplement to my night's rest of one or two hours of the most pleasing sleep that can be imagined. I find no ill consequences whatever resulting from it, and that at least, it does not injure my health, if it does not in fact contribute much to its preservation.—I shall therefore call it for the future a bracing or tonic bath.

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 colds are totally independent of wet and even of cold. I propose writing a short paper on this subject, the first leisure moment I have at my disposal.—In the mean time I can only say, that having some suspicions that the common notion, which attributes to cold the property of stopping the pores and obstructing perspiration, was ill founded, I engaged a young physician, who is mak­ing some experiments with Sanctorius's balance, to estimate the different proportions of his perspi­ration when remaining one hour quite naked, and another warmly clothed. He pursued the expe­riment in this alternate manner for eight hours successively and found his perspiration almost done his during those hours in which he was naked.

[Page 61]

OBSERVATIONS on the GENERAL PREVAILING DOCTRINES of LIFE and DEATH.
TO THE SAME.

YOUR observations on the causes of death, and the experiments which you propose for recalling to life those who appear to be killed by lightning, de­monstrate equally your sagacity and humanity. It appears that the doctrines of life and death, in gene­ral, are yet but little understood.

A toad, buried in sand, will live, it is said, until the sand becomes petrified; and then, being in­closed in the stone, it may still live for we know not how many ages. The facts which are cited in support of this opinion, are too numerous and too circumstantial not to deserve a certain degree of credit. As we are accustomed to see all the ani­mals with which we are acquainted eat and drink, it appears to us difficult to conceive how a toad can be supported in such a dungeon. But if we reflect, that the necessity of nourishment, which animals experience in their ordinary state, proceeds from the continual waste of their substance by per­spiration: it will appear less incredible that some animals in a torpid state, perspiring less because they use no exercise, should have less need of ale­ment; and that others, which are covered with scales or shells, which stop perspiration, such as land and sea turtles, serpents, and some species of fish, should be able to subsist a considerable time [Page 62] without any nourishment whatever.—A plant, with its flowers, fades and dies immediately, if exposed to the air without having its roots immersed in a humid soil, from which it may draw a sufficient quantity of moisture, to supply that which exhales from its substance, and is carried off continually by the air. Perhaps, however, if it were buried in quicksilver, it might preserve, for a considerable space of time, its vegetable life, its smell and co­lour. If this be the case, it might prove a com­modious method of transporting from distant coun­tries those delicate plants which are unable to sus­tain the inclemency of the weather at sea, and which require particular care and attention.

I have seen an instance of common flies preserv­ed in a manner somewhat similar. They had been drowned in Madeira wine, apparently about the time when 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 which was fill­ed. Having heard it remarked that drowned flies were capable of being revived by the rays of the sun, I proposed making the experiment upon these. 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 began by degrees to recover life. They commenced by some convulsive motions in the thighs, and at length they raised themselves upon their legs, wiped their eyes with their fore feet, beat and brushed their wings with their hind feet, and soon after began to fly, finding them­selves in Old England, without knowing how they came thither. The third continued lifeless until [Page 63] sun-set, when, losing all hopes of him, he was thrown away.

I wish it were possible, from this instance, to invent a method of embalming drowned persons, in such a manner that they might 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 task of Madeira wine, with a few friends, until that time, then to be recalled to life by the solar warmth of my dear country! But, since, in all probability, we live in an age too early, and too [...]ear the infancy of science, to see such an art brought in our time to its perfection, I must, for the present, content myself with the treat, which you are so kind as to promise me, of the resurrec­tion of a fowl or a turkey-cock.

PRECAUTIONS to be used by those who are about to undertake A SEA VOYAGE.

WHEN you intend to take a long voyage, nothing is better than to keep it a secret till the moment of your departure. Without this you will be continually interrupttd and tormented by visits from friends and acquaintances, who not only make you lose your valuable time, but make you forget a thousand things which you wish to remember; so that when you are embarked, and [Page 64] fairly at sea, you recollect, with much uneasiness affairs which you have not terminated, accounts that you have not settled, and a number of things which you proposed to carry with you, and which you find the want of every moment. Would it not be attended with the best consequences to re­form such a custom, and to suffer a traveller, with­out deranging him, to make his preparations in quietness, to set apart a few days, when these are finished, to take leave of his friends, and to receive their good wishes for his happy return?

It is not always in one's power to choose a cap­tain; though great part of the pleasure and happi­ness of the▪ passage depends upon this choice, and though one must for a time be confined to his com­pany, and be in some measure under his com­mand. If he is a social sensible man, obliging, and of a good disposition, you will be so much the hap­pier. One sometimes meets with people of this description, but they are not common; however, if yours be not of this number, if he be a good seaman, attentive, careful, and active in the ma­nagement of his vessel, you may dispense with the rest, for these are the most essential qualities.

Whatever right you may have by your agree­ment with him, to the provisions he has taken on board for the use of the passengers, it is always pro­per to have some private store, which you may make use of occasionally. You ought, therefore, to provide good water, that of the ship being often bad; but you must put it into bottles, without which you cannot expect to preserve it sweet. You ought also to carry with you good tea, ground cof­fee, chocolate, wine of the sort you like best, cy­der dried raisins, almonds, sugar, capillaire, citrons, [Page 65] 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 ship, they are almost all sickly, and their flesh is as tough as leather.

All sailors entertain an opinion, which has un­doubtedly originated formily from a want of wa­ter, and when it has been found necessary to be sparing of it, that poultry never know when they have drank enough; and that when water is given them at discretion, they generally kill themselves by drinking beyond measure. In consequence of this opinion, they gave them water only once in two days, and even then in small quantities: but as they pour this water into troughs inclining on one side, which occasions it to run to the lower part, it thence happens that they are obliged to mount one upon the back of another in order to reach it; and there are some which cannot even dip their beaks in it. Thus continually tantaliz­ed and tormented by thurst, 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; whilst those which are killed for the table are scarcely sit to be eaten. To remedy this inconvenience, it will be necessary to divide their troughs into small compartments, in such a manner that each of them may be capable of containing water; but this is seldom or never done. On this account, sheep and hogs are to be considered as the best fresh provi­sion that one can have at sea; mutton there being in general very good, and pork excellent.

[Page 66] It may happen that some of the provisions and stores which I have recommended may become al­most useless, by the care which the captain has taken to lay in a proper stock; but in such a case you may dispose of it to relieve the poor passen­gers, who, paying less for their passage, are stowed among the common sailors, and have no right to the captain's provisions, except such part of them as is used for feeding the crew. These passengers are sometimes sick, melancholy, and dejected; and there are often women and children among the [...] neither of whom have any opportunity of procur­ing those things which I have mentioned, and of which, perhaps, they have the greatest need. By distributing amongst them a part of your superflui­ty, you may be of the greatest assistance to them. You may restore their health, save their lives, and in short render them happy; which always affords the liveliest sensation to a feeling mind.

The most disagreeable thing at sea is the cooke­ry; for there is not, properly speaking, any pro­fessed cook on board. The worst sailor is generally chosen for that purpose, who for the most part is equally dirty. Hence comes the proverb used among the English sailors, that God sends meat, and the Devil sends cooks. Those, however, who have a better opinion of providence, will think otherwise. Knowing that sea air, and the exercise or motion which they receive from the rolling of the ship, have a wonderful effect in whetting the appetite, they will say that Providence has given sailors bad cooks to prevent them from eating too much; or that knowing they would have bad cooks, he has given them a good appetite to prevent them from dying with hungar. However, if you have [Page 67] is confidence in these succours of Providence, you [...]ay yourself, with a lamp and a boiler, by the help of a little spirits of wine, prepare some food, such [...] soup, hash, &c. A small oven made of tin­plate is not a bad piece of furniture: your servant may roast in it a piece of mutton or pork. If you are ever tempted to eat salt beef, which is often very good, you will find that cyder is the best li­quor to quench the thirst generally caused by salt next or salt fish. Sea-biscuit which is too hard for the teeth of some people, may be softened by keeping it; but bread double-baked is the best, for being made of good loaf-bread cut into slices, and baked a second time, it readily imbibes water, be­comes soft, and is easily digested; it consequent­ly forms excellent nourishment, much superior to that of biscuit, which has not been fermented.

I must here observe, that this double-baked bread was originally the real biscuit prepared to keep at sea; for the word biscuit, in French, signifies twice baked*. Pease often boil badly, and do not be­come soft; in such a case, by putting a two-pound shot into the kettle, the rolling of the vessel, by means of this bullet will convert the pease into a kind of porridge, like mustard.

Having often seen soup, when put upon the ta­ble at sea in broad flat dishes, thrown out on eve­ry side by the rolling of the vessel, I have wished that our tinmen would make our soup-basons with divisions or compartments forming small plates, proper for containing soup for one person only. By this disposition, the soup, in an extraordinary roll, would not be thrown out of the plate, and [Page 68] 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 trans­porting necessary provisions from one country, where they abound, to another where they are wanting; when by this it prevents famines, which where so frequent and so fatal before it was invest­ed and became so common; we cannot help consi­dering it as one of those arts which contribute most to the happiness of mankind.—But when it is employed to transport things of no utility, or articles merely of luxury, it is then uncertain whe­ther the advantages resulting from it are sufficient to counterbalance the misfortunes it occasions, by exposing the lives of so many individuals upon the vast ocean. And when it is used to plunder vessels and transport slaves, it is evidently only the dreadful means of increasing those calamities which afflict human nature.

One is astonished to think on the number of ves­sels and men who are daily exposed in going to bring tea from China, coffee from Arabia, and [...] gar and tobacco from America; all commodities which our ancestors lived very well without. The sugar-trade employs nearly a thousand vessels; and that of tobacco almost the same number. With 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 tea, than to encourage the [Page 69] numberless cruelties that are continually exercised in order to procure it us?

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 imagining it to be covered with spots of hu­man blood. But, had he added to these considera­tions the wars which we carry on against one ano­ther, to take and retake the islands that produce this commodity, he would not have seen the sugar simply spotted with blood, he would have beheld it entirely tinged with it.

These wars make the maritime powers of Europe, and the inhabitants of Paris and London, pay much dearer for their sugar than those of Vienna, though, they are almost three hundred leagues distant from the sea. A pound of sugar, indeed, costs the former not only the price which they give for it, but also what they pay in taxes, necessary to support those [...] and armies which serve to de [...]end and protect the countries that produce it.

[Page 70]

On LUXURY, IDLENESS, and INDUSTRY.
From a Letter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq. * written in 1784.

IT is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of this world are managed. Naturally one would imagine that the interest of a few individuals should give way to general interest; but individuals manage their affairs with so much more application, industry and address, than the public do theirs, that general interest most commonly gives way to particular.—We assemble parliaments and councils, to have the benefit of their collected wisdom; but we necessarily have, at the same time, the inconvenience of their collected passions, prejudices, and private interests. By the help of these, artful men overpower their wisdom, and dupe its possessors; and if we may judge by the acts, arrets, and edicts, all the world over, for regulation 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 capable of a remedy; nor that the evil is in itself always so great as it is represented. Suppose we include in the definition of luxury all unnecessary expence, and then let us consider whether laws to [Page 71] prevent such expence are possible to be executed in a great country, and whether, if they could be exe­cuted, our people generally would be happier, or even richer. Is not the hope of being one day able to purchase and enjoy luxuries, a great spur to labour and industry? May not luxury therefore produce more than it consumes, if, without such a spur, people would be, as they are naturally enough inclined to be, lazy and indolent? To this purpose I remember a circumstance. The skipper of a shallop, employed between Cape-May and Philadelphia, had done us some small service, for which he refused 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 farmer of Cape-May, his passenger, he mentioned the cap, and how much his daughter had been pleased with it. "But (said he) it proved a dear cap to our congregation."—"How so?"—"When my daugh­ter appeared with it at meeting, it was so much admired, that all the girls resolved to get such caps from Philadelphia; and my wife and I computed that the whole could not have cost less than 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 girl, 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 much better purposes."—Upon the whole, I was more reconciled to this little piece of luxury, since not only the girls were made hap­pier [Page 72] by having fine caps, but the Philadelphians by the supply of warm mittens.

In our commercial towns upon the sea-coast, fortunes will occasionally be made. Some of those who grow rich will be prudent, live within bounds, and preserve what they have gained for their pos­terity: others, fond of shewing their wealth, will be extravagant and ruin themselves. Laws can­not prevent this: and perhaps it is not always an evil to the public. A shilling spent idly by a fool, may be picked up by a wiser person, who knows better what to do with it. It is therefore not lost. A vain, silly fellow builds a fine house, furnishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and in a few years ruins himself: but the masons, carpenters, smiths, and other honest tradesmen, have been by his em­ploy assisted in maintaining and raising their fami­lies; the farmer has been paid for his labour, and encouraged, and the estate is now in better hands.—In some cases, indeed, certain modes of luxury may be a public evil, in the 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 superfluities. But we have plenty, and live well nevertheless, though, by being soberer, we might be richer,

The vast quantity of forest land we have yet to clear, and put in order for cultivation, will for a [Page 73] long time keep the body of our nation laborious and frugal. Forming an opinion of our people and their manners, by what is seen among the in­habitants of the 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 last war has shewn, that their being in the possession of the enemy did not neces­sarily draw on the subjection of the country; which bravely continued to maintain its freedom and in­dependence notwithstanding.

It has been computed by some political arithme­tician, that if every man and women would work for four hours each day on something useful, that labour would produce sufficient to procure all the necessaries and comforts of life; want and misery would be banished out of the world, and the rest of the twenty-four hours might be leisure and plea­sure.

What occasions then so much want and misery? It is the employment of men and women in works that produce neither the necessaries or conveniences of life, who, with those that 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. [...] have land, and raise corn. With this, if I feed a family that does nothing, my corn will be consumed, and at the end of the year I shall be no richer than I was at the beginning. But if while I feed them, I employ [Page 74] them, some in spinning, others in making bricks, &c. for building, the value of my corn will be ar­rested and remain with me, and at the end of the year we may be all better clothed and better lodg­ed. And if, instead of employing a man I feed in making bricks, I employ him in fiddling for me, the corn he eats is gone, and no part of his manu­facture remains to augment the wealth and conve­nience of the family; I shall therefore be the poorer for this fiddling man, unless the rest of my family work more, or eat less, to make up the deficiency he occasions.

Look round the world, and see the millions 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 building and fitting great ships, to go to China and Arabia for tea and coffee, to the West-Indies for sugar, to America for tobacco? These things cannot be called the necessaries of life, for our ancestors lived very comfortably without them.

A question may be asked: Could all these peo­ple now employed in raising, making, or carrying superfluities, be subsisted by raising necessaries? I think they might. The world is large, and a great part of it still uncultivated. Many hundred millions of acres in Asia, Africa, and America, are still in a forest; and a great deal even in Europe. On a hundred acres of this forest, a man might become a substantial farmer; and a hundred thousand men employed in clearing each his hundred acres, would [Page 75] hardly brigthen a spot big enough to be vesible from the moon, unless with Herschel's telescope; so vast are the regions still in wood.

It is however some comfort to reflect, that, upon the whole, the quantity of industry and prudence among mankind exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. Hence the increase of good buildings, farms cultivated, and populous cities filled with wealth, all over Europe, which a few years since were only to be found on the coasts of the Medi­terranean; and this notwithstanding the mad wars continually raging, by which are often destroyed in one year the works of many years peace. So that we may hope, the luxury of a few merchants on the coast will not be the ruin of America.

One reflection more, and I will end this long rambling letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies require some expence. The feet demand shoes; the legs stockings; the rest of the body clothing; and the belly a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, tho' exceedingly useful, ask, when reasonable, only the cheap assistance of spectacles, which could not much impair our finances. But the eyes of other people are the eyes that ruin us. If all but my­self were blind, I should want neither fine clothes, fine houses, nor fine furniture.

ON THE SLAVE TRADE.

READING in the newspapers the speech of Mr. Jackson in congress, against meddling with the [Page 76] affair of slavery, or attempting to mend the con­dition of slaves, it put me in mind of a similar speech, made about an hundred years since, by Sidi Mehemet Ibrahim, a member of the divan of Al­giers, which may 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 abolition of piracy and slavery, as being unjust.—Mr. Jackson does not quote it; perhaps he has not seen it. If, therefore, some of its reasonings are to be found in his eloquent speech, it may only shew that men's interests operate, and are operated on, with surprizing similarity, in all countries and climates, whenever they are under similar circum­stances. The African speech, as translated, is as follows:

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

Have these Erika considered the consequences of granting their petition? If we cease our cruises against the Christians, how shall we be furnished with the commodities their countries produce, and which are so necessary for us? If we forbear to make slaves of their people, who, in this hot cli­mate, are to cultivate our lands? Who are to per­form the common labours of our city, and of our families? Must we not then be our own slaves? And is there not more compassion and more favour due to us Mussulmen than to those Christian dogs?—We have now above fifty thousand slaves in and near Algiers. This number, if not kept up by fresh supplies, will soon diminish, and be gradually annihilated. If, then, we cease taking and plun­dering the infidel ships, and making slaves of the seamen and passengers, our lands will become of [Page 77] 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. But who is to indemnify their masters for the loss? Will the state do it? Is our treasury sufficient? Will the Erika do it? Can they do it? Or would they, to do what they think justice to the slaves, do a great­er injustice to the owners? And if we set our slaves free what is to be done with them? Few of them will return to their native countries? they know too well the greater hardships they must there be subject to. They will not embrace our holy religion: they will not adopt our manners: our people will not pollute themselves by inter­marrying with them. Must we maintain them as beggars in our streets? or suffer our properties to be the prey of their pillage? for men accustomed to slavery, will not work for a livelihood, when not compelled.—And what is there so pitiable in their present condition? Were they not slaves in their own countries? Are not Spain, 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, seized, and confined in ships of war, con­demned, not only to work, but to fight for small wages, or a mere subsistence, not better than our slaves are allowed by us. Is their condition then made worse by their falling into our hands? No; [Page 78] they have only exchanged one slavery for another; and I may say a better: for here they are brought into a land where the sun of Islamism gives forth its light, and shines in full splendor, and they have an opportunity of making themselves acquainted with the true doctrine, and thereby saving their immortal souls. Those who remain at home, have not that happiness. Sending the slaves home, then, would be sending them out of light into darkness.

I repeat the question, what is to be done with them? I have heard it suggested, that they may be planted in the wilderness, where there is plenty of land for them to subsist on, and where they may flourish as a free state.—But they are, I doubt, too little 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 them. While serving us, we take care to provide them 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 farther improvement. Here their lives are is 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 [...] of the religious mad bigots who now tease us with their silly petitions, have, in a fit of blind zeal, freed their slaves, it was not generosity, it was not humanity that moved them to the action; it was from the conscious burthen of a load of sins, and hope▪ from the supposed merits of so good a work, to be excused from damnation—How gross­ly [Page 79] are they mistaken, in imagining slavery to be disavowed by the Alcoran! Are not the two pre­cepts, to quote no more, "Masters, treat your slaves with kindness—Slaves serve your masters with cheerfulness and fidelity," clear proofs to the contrary? Nor can the plundering of infidels be in that sacred book forbidden; since it is well known from it, that God has given the world, and all that it contains, to his faithful Mussulmen, who are to enjoy it, of right, as fast as they can conquer it. Let us then hear no more of this detestable proposition, the manumission of Christian slaves, the adoption of which would, be depreciating our lands and houses, and thereby depriving so many good citizens of their properties, create universal discontent, and provoke insurrections, to the en­dangering of government, and producing general confusion. I have, therefore, no doubt that this wise council will prefer the comfort and happiness of a whole nation of true believers, to the whim of a few Erika, and dismiss their petition.

The result was, as Martin tells us, that the Di­van came to this resolution: ‘That the doctrine, that the plundering and enslaving the Christians is unjust, is at best problematical; but that it is the interest of this state to continue the practice is clear; therefore, let the petition be rejected.’—And it was rejected accordingly.

And since like motives are apt to produce, in the minds of men, like opinions and resolutions, may we not venture to predict; from this account, that the petitions to the parliament of England for abolishing the slave trade, to say nothing of other [Page 80] legislatures and the debates upon them, will have a similar conclusion.

HISTORICUS.

OBSERVATIONS ON WAR.

BY the original law of nations, war and extir­pation were the punishment of injury. Huma­nizing by degrees, it admitted slavery instead of death: a farther step was the exchange of prison­ers instead of slavery: another, to respect more the property of private persons under conquest, and be content with acquired dominion. Why should not this law of nations go on improving? Ages have intervened between its several steps: but as know­ledge of late increases rapidly, why should not those steps be quickened? Why should it not be agreed to, as the future law of nations, that in any war hereafter the following description of men should be undisturbed, have the protection of both sides, and be permitted to follow their employments in security? viz.

  • 1. Cultivators of the earth, because they 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.
  • [Page 81] 4. Artists and mechanics, inhabiting and work­ing in open towns.

It is hardly necessary to add, that the hospitals of enemies should be anmolested—they ought to be assisted. It is for the interest of humanity in general, that the occasions of war, and the inducements to it, should be diminished. If rapine be abolished, one of the encouragements to war is taken away; and peace therefore more likely to continue and be last­ing.

The practice of robbing merchants on the high seas—a remnant of the ancient piracy—though it may be accidentally beneficial to particular persons, is far from being profitable to all engaged in it, or to the nation that authorises it. In the beginning of a war some rich ships are surprised and taken. This en­courages the first adventures to fit out more armed ves­sels; and many others to do the same. But the ene­my at the same time become more careful; arm their merchant ships better, and render them not so easy to be taken; they go also more under the protection of convoys. Thus, while the privateers to take them are multiplied, the vessels subject to be taken, and the chances of profit, are diminished; so that many cruises are made, wherein the expences overgo the gains; and, as is the case in other lotteries, though particulars have got prizes, the mass of ad­ventures are losers, the whole expence of fitting out all the privateers during a war being much great­er than the whole amount of goods taken.

Then there is the national los [...] of all the labour of so many men during the time they have been employed in robbing; who besides spend what they get in riot, drunkenness, and debauchery; loose their habits of industry; are rarely fit for any sober [Page 82] business after a peace, and serve only to increase the number of highwaymen and house breakers. Even the undertakers who have been fortunate, are, by sudden wealth, led into expensive living, the habit of which continues when the means of supporting it cease, and finally ruins them: a just punishment for having wantonly and unfeelingly ruined many honest, innocent traders and their families, whose substance was employed in serving the common interest of mankind.

ON THE IMPRESS OF SEAMEN.
Notes copied from Dr. Franklin's writing in pencil in the margin of Judge Foster's celebrated argument in favour of the IMPRESSING OF SEAMEN (published in the folio edition of his works.)

JUDGE Foster, p. 158. "Every Man."—The conclusion here from the whole to a part, does not seem to be good logic. If the alphabet should say, Let us all fight for the defence of the whole; that is equal, and may therefore be just. But if they should say, Let A, B, C, and D go out and fight for us, while we stay at home and sleep in whole [...]kins; that is not equal, and therefore cannot be just.

Ib. "Employ."—If you please. The word sig­nifies engaging a man to work for me, by offer­ing [Page 83] him such wages as are sufficient to induce him to prefer my service. This is very different from compelling him to work on such terms as I think proper.

Ib. "This service and employment, &c."—These are false facts. His employments and ser­vice are not the same—Under the merchant be goes in an unarmed vessel, not obliged to fight, but to transport merchandize. In the king's ser­vice he is obliged to fight, and to hazard all the dangers of battle. Sickness on board of king's ships is also more common and more mortal. The mer­chant's service too he can quit at the end of the voyage; not the king's. Also, the merchant's wages are much higher.

Ib. "I am very sensible, &c."—Here are two things put in comparison that are not comparable: viz. injury to seamen, and inconvenience to trade. Inconvenience to the whole trade of a nation will not justify injustice to a single seaman. If the trade would suffer without his service, it is able and ought to be willing to offer him such wages as may in­duce him to afford his service voluntarily.

Page 159. ‘Private mischief must be borne with patience, for preventing a national calami­ty.’—Where is this maxim in law and good po­licy to be found? And how can that be a maxim which is not consistent with common sense? If the maxim had been, that private mischiefs, which prevent a national calamity, ought to be generous­ly compensated by the nation, one might under­stand it: but that such private mischiefs are only to be borne with patience, is absurd!

Ib. "The expedient, &c. And, &c." (Pa­ragraphs 2 and 3.)—Twenty ineffectual or incon­venient [Page 84] schemes will not justify one that is unjust.

Ib. "Upon the foot of, &c."—Your reasoning, indeed, like a lie, stands but upon one foot; truth upon two.

Page 160. "Full wages.—Probably the same they had in the merchant's service.

Page 174. "I hardly admit, &c." (Paragraph 5)—When this autho [...] speaks of impressing, page 158, he diminishes the horror of the practice as much as possible, by presenting to the mind one sailor only suffering hardship (as he tenderly calls it) in some particular cases only: and he places against this private mischief the inconvenience to the trade of the kingdom.—But if, as he supposes is often the case, the sailor who is pressed, and obliged to serve for the defence of trade, at the rate of twenty­five shillings a month, could get three pounds fifteen shillings in the merchant's service, you take from him fifty shillings a month; and if you have a 100,000 in your service, you rob this honest indus­trious part of society, and their poor families of 250,000l. per month, or three millions a year, and at the same time oblige them to hazard their lives in fighting for the defence of your trade; to the defence of which all ought indeed to contribute (and sailors among the rest) in proportion to their profits by it; but this three millions is more than their share, if they did not pay with their persons; but when you force that, methinks you should excuse the other.

But it may be said, to give the king's seamen merchant's wages would cost the nation too much, and call for more taxes. The question then will amount to this: whether it be just in a communi­ty, that the richer part should compel the poorer [Page 85] to fight in desence 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 is equitable. I will, however, own for the present, that it may be lawful when necessary; but then I contend that it may be used so as to produce the same good effects—the public security, without do­ing so much intolerable injustice as attends the im­pressing common seamen.—In order to be better understood, I would premise too things; First, that voluntary seamen may be had for the service, if they were sufficiently paid. The proof is, that to serve in the same ship, and incur the same dan­gers, you have no occasion to impress captains, lieutenants, second lieutenants, midshipmen, purs­ers, nor many other officers. Why, but that the profits of their places, or the emoluments expect­ed, are sufficient inducements? The business then is, to find money, by impressing, sufficient to make the sailors all volunteers, as well as their officers; and this without any fresh burthen upon trade.—The second of my premises is, that twenty-five shillings a month, with his share of salt beef, pork, and pease-pudding, being found sufficient for the subsistence of a hard-working seaman, it will cer­tainly be so for a sedentary scholar or gentleman. I would then propose to form a treasury, out of which encouragements to seamen should be paid. To fill this treasury, I would impress a number of civil officers, who at present have great salaries, oblige them to serve in their respective offices for twenty-five shillings a month with their shares of mess provisions, and [...] salaries [Page 86] into the seamen's treasury. If such a press-war­rant were given me to execute, the first I 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 shil­lings 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 I would press the rest of the Judges; and, opening the red book, I would press every civil officer of government from 50l. a year salary, up to 50,000l. which would throw an immense sum into our treasury: and these gentlemen could not complain, since they would re­ceive twenty five shillings a month, and their rations: and this without being obliged to fight. Lastly, I think I would impress.

ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS, AND THE PRACTICE OF PRIVATEERING.
Letter to Benjamin Vaughan,Esq.

MY DEAR FRIEND,

AMONG the pamphlets you lately sent me, was one, entitled, Thoughts on Executive Jus­tice. In return for that, I send you one on the [Page 87] same subject, Observations concervant l' Exécution [...] p Article II. de la Déclaration fur le Vol. They are both addressed to the Judges, and written, as you will see, in a very different spirit. The En­glish author is for hanging all thieves. The French­man is for proportioning punishments to offences.

If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that the law of Moses was the law of God, the dictate of divine wisdom, infinitely superior to human; on what principles do we ordain death as the punish­ment of an offence, which, according to that law, was only to be punished by a restitution of four­fold? To put a man to death for an offence which does not deserve death, is it not a murder? And, as the French writer says, Doit-on punir un [...] contre la societé par 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 savages' bow, his hatchet, and his coat of skins, were suf­ficiently 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 more severe, and would protect their property at the expence of humanity. This was abusing their power, and commencing a tyranny. If a savage, before he entered into society, had been told—‘Your neighbour by this means, may become owner of an hundred deer; but if your brother, or your son, or yourself, having no deer of your own, and being hungry, should kill one, an in­famous death must be the consequence:’ he would probably have preferred his liberty, and his common right of killing any deer, to all the advan­tages [Page 88] of society that might be proposed to him.

That 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 I know of, controverted. Ever the sanguinary author of the thoughts agrees to it adding well, ‘that the very thought of injured in­nocence, and much more that of suffering inno­cence, must awaken all our tenderest and most compassionate feelings, and at the same time raise our highest indignation against the instru­ments of it. But,’ he adds, ‘there is no dan­ger of either, from a strict adherenc [...] to the laws.’—Really!—Is it then impossible to make an unjust law? and if the law itself be unjust, may it not be the very "instrument" which ought ‘to raise the author's, and every body's highest indignation?’ 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 gibit? Might not that woman, by her labour have made the reparation ordained by God, in pay­ing fourfold? Is not all punishment inflicted be­yond the merit of the offence, so much punishment of innocence? In this light, how vast is the annu­al quantity, of not only injured but suffering inno­cence, in almost all the civilized states of Europe!

But it seems to have been thought that this kind of innocence may be punished by way of prevent­ing crimes. I have read, indeed, of a cruel Turk in Barbary, who, whenever he bought a new Chris­tian [Page 89] slave, ordered him immediately to be hung up by the legs, and to receive a hundred blows of a cudgel on the soles of his feet, that the severe sense of the punishment, and fear of incurring it thereafter, might prevent the faults that should merit it. Our author himself would hardly ap­prove entirely of this Turk's conduct in the govern­ment of slaves; and yet he appears to recommend something like it for the government of English subjects, when he applauds the reply of Judge Bur­net to the convict horse-stealer; who being asked what he had to say why judgment of death should not pass against him, and answering, that it was hard to hand 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 principle of justice and equity, that punishments should be proportion­ed to offences, and the judge's reply brutal and unreasonable, though the writer "wishes all judges to carry it with them whenever they go to the circuit, and to bear it in their minds, as containing a wise reason for all the penal statutes which they are called upon to put in execution. It at once il­lustrates (says he) the true grounds and reasons of all capital punishments whatsoever, namely, that every man's property, as well as his life, may be held sacred and inviolate." Is there then no dif­ference in value between property and life? If I think it right that the crime of murder should be punished with death, not only as an equal punish­ment of the crime, but to prevent other murders, [Page 90] does it follow that I must approve of the same punish­ment for a little invasion on my property by theft? If I am not myself so barbarous, so bloody-minded, and revengeful, as to kill a fellow-creature for steal­ing from me fourteen shillings and three-pence, how can I approve of a law that does it? Mon­tesquieu, who was himself a judge, endeavours to impress other maxims. He must have known what humane judges feel on such occasions, and what the affects of those feelings; and, so far from thinking that severe and excessive punishments pre­vent crimes, he asserts, as quoted by our French writer, that

L'atrocité des loix en empêche l' exécution.

Lorsque la peine est sons mesure, on est sonvent "obligé de lui préférer l' impunitê,

La cause des tous les relâchemens vient de l'im­punité des crimes, et non de la moderation de [...] peines.

It is said by those who know Europe generally, that there are more thefts committed and punished annually in England than in all the other nations put together. If this be so, there must be a cause or causes for such depravity in our common people. May not one be the deficiency of justice and mo­rality in our national government, manifested in our oppressive conduct to subjects, and unjust wars on our neighbours? View the long persisted in, unjust, monopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length acknowledged! View the plundering government exercised by our merchants in the Indies; the confiscating war made upon the American colo­nies; and, to say nothing of those upon France and Spain, view the late war upon Holland, which was seen by impartial Europe in no other light [Page 91] 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 gang. After employing your people in robbing the Dutch, it is strange that, being out of that employ by peace, they still continue robbing, and rob one another? Piraterie, as the French call it, or privateering, is the universal bent of the English nation, at home and abroad, wherever settled. No less than seven hundred privateers were, it is said, commissioned in the last war! These were fitted out by merchants, to prey upon other merchants, who have never done them any injury. Is there probably any one of those privateering merchants of London, who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam; that would not as readily plunder another London mer­chant of the next street, if he could do it with the same impunity! The avidity, the alieni 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 encourag [...]d and commissioned no less than seven hundred gangs of robbers; how can such a nation have the face to condemn the crime in in­dividuals, and hang up twenty of them in a morn­ing! It naturally puts one in mind of a Newgate anecdote, One of the prisoners complained, that in the night somebody had taken his buckles out [Page 92] 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, and which took a number of French prizes. The booty being shared, he has now an agent here enquiring, by an advertisement in the Gazette, for those who suffered the loss, in order to make them, as far as in him lies, restitu­tion. This conscientious man is a Quaker. The Scotch presbyterians were formerly as tender; for there is still extant an ordinance of the town­council of Edinburgh, made soon after the Re­formation, "forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under pain of losing the freedom of the burgh for ever, with other punishments at the will of the magistrate; the practice of making prizes being contrary to good conscience, and the rule of treating Christian brethren as we would wish to be treated; and such goods are not to be sold by any godly men within this burgh." The race of these godly men in Scotland is probably extinct, or their principles abandoned, since, as far as that nation had a hand in promoting the war against the colonies, priz­es and confiscations are believed to have been a con­siderable motive.

It has been for some time a generally-received opinion, that a military man is not to enquire whe­ther a war be just or unjust; he is to execute his orders. All princes who are disposed to become tyrants, must probably approve of this opinion, [Page 93] and be willing 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 army 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; 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 ruffian [...] to attack their fellow-mer­chants of a neighbouring nation, 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 attempt 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 Eng­lish and American merchants, who, nevertheless, complain of private theft, and hand by dozens the thieves they have taught by their own example.

[Page 94] It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were put to this enormity. The United States of America, though better situated than any Euro­pean nation to make profit by privateering, (most of the trade of Europe, with the West-Indies pass­ing before their doors) are, as far as in them lies, endeavouring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all their treaties with other powers, an article, engaging sol [...]mnly, that, in case of future war, no privateer shall be commissioned on either side; and that unarmed merchant-ships, on both sides, shall pursue their voyages unmolested*. This will be [Page 95] 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, I am, my dear friend, Ever yours.

REMARKS CONCERNING the SAVAGES of NORTH AMERICA.

SAVAGES we call them, because their manners differ from ours, which we think the per­fection of civility; they think the same of theirs.

Perhaps, if we could examine the manners of different nations with impartiality▪ we should find no people so rude as to be without any rules of politeness; nor any so polite as not to have some remains of rudeness.

The Indian men, when young, are hunters and warriors; when old, counsellors; for all their go­vernment is by the counsel or advice of sages; there is no force, there are no prisons, no officers to compel obedience, or inflict punishment. Hence they generally study oratory; the best speaker having the most influence. The Indian women till the ground, dress the food, nurse and bring up the children, and preserve and hand down to pos­terity the memory of public transactions. These employments of men and women are accounted natural and honourable. Having few artificial wants, they have abundance of leisure for improve­ment by conversation. Our laborious manner of life, compared with theirs, they esteem slavish and base; and the learning on which we value our selves, [Page 96] they regard as frivolous and useless. An instance of this occured at the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, anno 1744, between the govern­ment of Virginia and the Six Nations. After the principal business was settled, the commissioners from Virginia acquainted the Indians by a speech, that there was at Williamsburg a college, with a fund, for educating Indian youth; and that if the chiefs of the Six Nations would send down half a dozen of their sons to that college the govern­ment would take care that they should be well pro­vided for, and instructed in all the learning of the white people. It is one of the Indian rules of po­liteness not to answer a public proposition the same day that it is made; they think it would be treat­ing it as a light matter; and they shew it respect by taking time to consider it, as of a matter import­ant. They therefore deferred their answer till the day following; when their speaker began, by ex­pressing their deep sense of the kindness of the Virginia government, in making them that offer; "for we know (says he) that you highly esteem the kind of learning taught in those colleges, and that the maintenance of our young men, while with you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, therefore, that you mean to do us good by your proposal, and we thank you heartily. But you who are wise, must know, that different na­tions have different conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take it amiss, if our ideas of this kind of education happen not to be the same with yours. We have had some experience of it: se­veral of our young people were formerly brought up at the colleges of the northern provinces: they were instructed in all your sciences; but when they [Page 97] came back to us, they were bad runners; igno­rant of every means of living in the woods; una­ble to bear either cold or hunger; knew neither how to build a cabin, take a deer, or kill an ene­my; spoke our language imperfectly; were there­fore neither fit for hunters, warriors, or counsel­lors; they were totally good for nothing. We are however not the less obliged by your kind of­fer, though we decline accepting it: and to show our grateful sense of it, if the gentlemen of Virgi­nia will send us a dozen of their sons, we will take great care of their education, instruct them in all we know, and make men of them."

Having frequent occasions to hold public coun­cils, they have acquired great order and decency in conducting them. The old men fit in the fore­most ranks, the warriors in the next, and the wo­men and children in the hindmost. The business of the women is to take exact notice of what passes, imprin [...] it in their memories, for they have no writ­ing, and communicate it to their children. They are the records of the council, and they preserve tradition of the stipulations in treaties a hundred years back; which, when we compare with our writings, we always find exact. He that would speak, rises. The rest observe a profound silence. When he has finished, and fits 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 conversa­tion, is reckoned highly indecent. How different this is from the conduct of a polite British House [...] Commons, where scarce a day passes [...] [Page 98] some [...], that makes the speaker hoarse in [...] [...]rder; and how different from the mode [...] [...]tion in many polite companies of Eu­ [...], if you do not deliver your sentence [...] [...]rapidity, you are cut off in the middle [...] [...]impatient loquacity of those you con­ [...] and never suffered to finish it!

[...] of these savages in conversation, [...] [...]arried to excess; since it does not per­ [...] contradict or deny the truth of what [...] their presence. By this means they [...] [...]putes; but then it becomes diffi­cult to know their minds, or what impression you make upon them. The missionaries who have at­tempted to convert them to Christianity, all complain of this as one of the great difficulties of their mission. The Indians hear with patience the truths of the gos­pel explained to them, and give their usual tokens of [...] and approbation: you would think they were convinced. No such matter. It is mere civility.

A Swedish minister having assembled the chiefs of the Sasquehannah Indians, made a sermon to them, acquainting them with the principal historical facts on which our religion is founded; such as the fall of our first parents by eating an apple; the ▪coming of Christ to repair the mischief; his meracles and suf­fering, &c.—When he had finished, an Indian orator stood up to thank him. "What you have told us," says he, "is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat apples. It is better to make them all into cyder. We are much obliged by your kindness in coming so far to tell us those things which you have heard from your mothers. In return, I will tell you some of those we have heard from ours.

[Page 99] "In the beginning, our fathers had only the [...] of animals to subsist on; and if their hunting was unsuccessful, they were star [...]ing. Two of our young hunters having killed a deer, made a fire in the woods 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 Mountains. They said to each other, it is a spirit that perhaps has smelt our broiling venison, and wishes to eat of it: let us offer some to her. They presented her with the tongue: she was 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 genera­tions. They did so, and to their surprise, found plants they had never seen before; but which, from that ancient time, have been constantly cul­tivated among us, to our great advantage. Where her right hand had touched the ground, they found maize; where her left hand had touched it they found kidney-beans, and where her back-side had sat on it, tobacco." The good missionary, disgusted with this idle tale, said, "What I delivered to you were sacred truths; but what you tell me is mere fable, fiction, and falsehood." The Indian, offended, re­plied, "My brother, it seems your friends have not done you justice in your education; they have not well instructed you in the rules of common civi­lity. You saw that we, who understand and practise those rules, believed all your stories, why do you re­fuse to believe ours?"

[Page 100] When any of them come into our towns, our people are apt to crowd round them, gaze upon them, and incommode them where they desire to be private; this they esteem great rudeness, and the effect of the want of instruction in the rules of civility and good manners. "We have," say they, "as much curiosity as you, and when you come into our towns, we wish for opportunities of looking at you; but for this purpose we hide our­selves behind bushes where you are to pass, and never intrude ourselves into your company."

Their manner of entering one another's villages has likewise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling strangers to enter a village abruptly, with­out giving notice of their approach. Therefore, as soon as they arrive within hearing, they stop and hollow, remaining there till invited to enter. Two old men usually come out to them, and lead them in. There is in every village a vacant dwelling, called the strangers house. Here they are placed, while the old men go round from hut to hut, acquainting the inhabitants that strangers are arrived, who are probably hungry and weary; and every one sends them what he can spare of victuals, and skins to re­pose on. When the strangers are refreshed, pipes and tobacco are brought; and then, but not before, conversation begins, with enquiries who they are, whither bound, what news, &c. and it usually ends with offers of service; if the strangers have occasion for guides, or any necessaries for continuing their journey; and nothing is exacted for the entertain­ment.

The same hospitality, esteemed among them as a principal virtue, is practised by private persons; of which Conrad Weiser, our interpreter, gave me [Page 101] the following instance. He had been naturalized among the Six Nations, and spoke well the Mo­bock language. In going through the Indian country, to carry a message from our governor to the council at Onondaga, he called at the habita­tion of Canassetego, an old acquaintance, who em­braced him, spread furs for him to sit on, placed before him some boiled beans and venison, and mixed some rum and water for his drink. When he was well refreshed, and had lit his pipe, Canas­fetego began to converse with him: asked how he had fared the many years since they had seen each other, whence he then came, what occasioned the journey, &c. Conrad answered all his questions; and when the discourse began to flag, the Indian, to continue it, said, Conrad, you have lived long among the white people, and know something of their customs; I have been sometimes at Alba­ny, and have observed, that once in seven days they shut up their shops, and assemble all in the great house; tell me what it is for! What do they do these?" "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 fell my skins, and buy blankets, knives, powder, rum, &c. You know I used generally to deal with Hans Hanson; but I was a little inclined this time to try some other merchants. However, I [...] first upon Hans, and asked him what he would give for beaver. He said he could not give more than four shil­lings a pound: but, says he, I cannot talk on bu­siness now; this is the day when we meet together [Page 102] to learn good things, and I am going to the meeting. So I thought to myself, since I cannot do any bu­siness to-day, I may as well go to the meeting too, and I went with him. There stood up a man in black, and began to talk to the people very angrily. I did not understand what he said; but perceiving that he looked much at me, and at Hanson, I ima­gined he was angry at seeing me there: so I went out, sat down near the house, struct fire, and lit my pipe, waiting till the meeting should break up. I thought too that the man had mentioned some­thing of beaver, and I suspected it might be the subject of their meeting. So when they came out I accosted my merchant. 'Well, Hans,' says I 'I hope you have agreed to give more than four shillings a pound.' 'No,' says he, 'I cannot give so much, I cannot give more than three shillings and six pence.' I then spoke to several other deal­ers, but they all sung the same song, three and six­pence, three and six-pence. This made it clear to me that my suspicion was right; and that what­ever they pretended of meeting to learn good things, the purpose was to consult how to cheat Indians is the price of beaver. Consider but a little, Conrad, and you must be of my opinion. If they met so often to learn good things, they would certainly have learned some before this time. But they are still ignorant. You know our practice. If a white man, in travelling through our country, enters one of our cabins, we all treat him as I do you; we dry him if he is wet, we warm him if he is cold, and give him meat and drink, that he may allay his thirst and hunger: and we spread soft furs for him to rest and sleep on: we demand nothing in [Page 103] return*. But if I go into a white man's house at Albany, and ask for victuals and drink, they say, Where is your money, and if I have none, they say, Get out, you Indian dog. You see they have not yet learned those little good things that we need no meetings to be instructed in, because our mothers taught them to us when we were children; and therefore it is impossible their meetings should be, as they say, for any such purpose, or have any such effect; they are only to contrive the cheating of Indians in the price of beaver."

To MR. DUBOURG, Concerning the Dissensions be­tween ENGLAND and AMERICA.

I SEE with pleasure that we think pretty much like on the subjects of English America. We of the colonies have never insisted that we ought to be exempt from contributing to the common expences necessary to support the prosperity of the empire. We only assert, that having parliaments of our own, and not having representatives in that of Great-Britain, our parliaments are the only judges of what we can and what we ought to contribute [Page 104] in this case; and that the English parliament has no right to take our money without our consent.—In fact, the British empire is not a single state; it comprehends many; and though the parliament of Great Britain has arrogated to itself the power of taxing the colonies, it has no more right to do so, than it has to tax Hanover. We have the same king, but not the same legislatures.

The dispute between the two countries has alrea­dy cost England many millions sterling, which it has lost in its commerce, and America has in this respect been a proportionable gainer. This com­merce consisted principally of superfluities; objects of luxury and fashion, which we can well do with out; and the resolution we have formed of import­ing no more till our grievances are redressed, has enabled many of our infant manufacturs to take root; and it will not be easy to make our people abandon them in future, even should a connection more cordial than ever succeed the present trou­bles.—I have, indeed, no doubt that the parlie­ment of England will finally abandon its present pretensions, and leave us to the peaceable enjoyment of our rights and privileges.

B. FRANKLIN.

A Comparison of the Conduct of the ancient JEWS, and of the ANTIFEDERALISTS in the United States of AMERICA.

A ZEALOUS advocate for the proposed Fe­deral Constitution in a certain public assembly said, [Page 105] that ‘the repugnance of a great part of mankind to good government was such, that he believed, that if an angel from heaven was to bring down a constitution formed there for our use, it would nevertheless meet with violent opposition.’—He was reproved for the supposed extravagance of the sentiment; and he did not justify it.—Proba­bly it might not have immediately 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 up a single family, by continued acts of his atten­tive providence, 'till it became a great people: and having rescued them from bondage by many mira­cles performed by his servant Moses, he personally delivered 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 execution but by means of his ministers; Aaron and his sons were therefore commissioned to be, with Moses, the first established ministry of the new go­vernment.

One would have thought, that the appointment of men who had distinguished themselves in procuring the liberty of their nation, and had hazarded their [Page 106] lives in openly opposing the will of a powerful mo­narch who would have retained that nation in slavery, might have been an appointment acceptable to a grateful people; and that a constitution, framed for them by the Deity himself, might on that account have been secure of an universal welcome reception. Yet there were, in every one of the thirteen tribes, some discontented, restless spirits, who were continu­ally exciting them to reject the proposed new govern­ment, and this from various motives.

Many still retained an affection for Egypt, the land of their nativity, and these, whenever they felt any inconvenience or hardship, though the natural and unavoidable effect of their change of situation, exclaimed against their leaders as the authors of their trouble; and were not only for returning into Egypt, but for stoning their deliverers*. Those inclined to idolatry were displeased that their golden calf was destroyed. Many of the chiefs thought the new constitution might be injurious to their particular interest, that the profitable places would be engrossed by the families and friends of Moses and Aaron, and others equally well-born excluded.—In Josephus, and the Talmud, we learn some particulars, not so fully narrated in the scripture. We are there told, "that Corah was ambitious of the priesthood; and offended that it was conferred on Aaron; and this, as he said, by the authority of Moses only, without the consent of the people. He accused Moses of having, [Page 107] by various artifices, fraudulently obtained the govern­ment, and deprived the people of their liberties; and of conspiring with Aaron to perpetuate the tyranny in their family. Thus, though Corah's real motive was the supplanting of Aaron, he persuaded the people he meant only the public good; and they, moved by his insinuations, began to cry out—"Let us maintain the common liberty of our respective tribes; we have freed ourselves from the slavery imposed upon us by the Egyptians, and shall we suffer ourselves to be made slaves by Moses? If we must have a master, it were better to return to Pharaoh, who at least fed us with bread and onions, than to serve this new tyrant, who by his operations has brought us into danger or famine." Then they called in question the reality of his conferrence with God; and object­ed to the privacy of the meetings, and the prevent­ing any of the people from being present at the colloques, or even approaching the place, as grounds of great suspicion. They accused Moses also of peculation; as embezzling part of the golden spoons and the silver chargers, that the princes had offered at the dedication of the altar*, and the offer­ings of the gold of the common people, as well as most of the poll tax; and Aaron they accused of pocketing much of the gold of which he pretended to have made a molten calf. Besides peculation, they charged Moses with ambition; to gratify which passion, he had, they said, deceived the people, by promising to bring them to a land flowing with milk and honey; instead of doing which, he had brought them from such a land; and that he thought light of [Page 108] this mischief, provided he could make himself an absolute prince *. That, to support the new dignity with splendour in his family, the partial poll tax al­ready levied and given to Aaron was to be followed by a general one, which would probably be aug­mented from time to time, if he were suffered to go on promulgating new laws on pretence of new occa­sional revelations of the divine will, till their whole fortunes were devoured by that aristocracy."

Moses denied the charge of peculation; and his accusers were destitute of proofs to support it; though facts, if real, are in their nature capable of proof. "I have not," said he, (with holy confidence in the presence of God) "I have not take 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§," heading and exciting the mob, worked them up to such a pitch of phrensy, that they called out, stone 'em, stone 'em, and thereby secure our liberties; and let us choose other captains that may lead us back into Egypt, in case we do not succeed in reducing the Canaanites.

On the whole, it appears that the Israelites were a people jealous of their newly acquired liberty, which jealousy was in itself no fault; but that when [Page 109] they suffered it to be worked upon by artful men, pretending public good, with nothing really in view but private interest, they were led to oppose the establishment of the new constitution, whereby they brought upon themselves much inconvenience and misfortune. It farther appears from the same inesti­mable history, that when, after many ages, the con­stitution had become old and much abused, and an amendment of it was proposed, the populace as they had accused Moses of the ambition of making him­self a prince, and cried out, stone him, stone him; so, excited by their high-priests and scribes, they exclaimed against the Messiah, that he aimed at be­coming king of the Jews, and cried, crucify him, crucify him. From all which we may gather, that popular opposition to a public measure is no proof of its impropriety, even though the opposition be excited and headed by men of distinction.

To conclude. I beg I may not be understood to infer, that our general convention was divinely in­spired when it formed the new federal constitution, merely because that constitution has been unrea­sonably and vehemently opposed: yet, I must own, I have so much faith in the general government of the world by Providence, that I can hardly conceive a transaction of such momentous import­ance to the welfare of millions now existing, and to exist in the posterity of a great nation, should be suffered to pass without being in some degree influenced, guided, and governed by that omnipo­tent, omnipresent and beneficent Ruler, in whom all inferior spirits live, and move, and have their being.

[Page 110]

THE INTERNAL STATE OF AMERICA. Being a true Description of the Interest and Policy of that vast Continent.

THERE is a tradition, that, in the planting of New-England, the first settlers met with many difficulties and hardships; as is generally the case when a civilized people attempt 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 discourse 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 remarked, that the inconveniencies 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 reward. their labour, and to furnish liberally for their sub­sistence; that the seas and rivers were found full of fish, the air sweet, and 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 [Page 111] 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 should proclaim a thanksgiving. His advice was taken, and from that day to this they have, in every year, observed circumstances of public fe­licity sufficient to furnish employment for a thanks­giving day, which is therefore constantly ordered and religiously observed.

I see in the public newspapers of different states frequent complaints of hard times, deadness of trade, scarcity of money, &c. &c. It is not my intention to assert or maintain that these complaints are en­tirely without foundation. There can be no coun­try or nation existing, in which there will not be some people so circumstanced as to find it hard to gain a livelihood; people who are not in the way of any profitable trade, and with whom money is scarce, because they have nothing to give in ex­change for it; and it is always in the power of a small number to make a great clamour. But let us take a cool view of the general state of our af­fairs, and perhaps the prospect will appear less gloomy than has been imagined.

The great business of the continent is agriculture. For one artisan, or merchant. I suppose, we have at least one hundred farmers, and by far the great­est part cultivators of their own fertile lands, from whence many of them draw not only food neces­sary for their subsistence, but the materials of their clothing, so as to need very few foreign supplies; while they have a surplus of productions to dispose of, whereby wealth is gradually accumulated. Such has been the goodness of Divine Providence to these [Page 112] 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 heard of amongst us; on the con­trary, though some years may have been more, and others less plentiful, there has always been provi­sion enough for ourselves, and a quantity to spare for exportation. And although the crops of last year were generally good, never was the farmer better paid for the part he can spare commerce, as the published price currents abundantly testify. The lands he possesses are also continually rising in value with the increase of population; and, on the whole, he is enabled to give such good wages to those who work for him, that all who are acquaint­ed with the old world must agree, that in no part of it are the labouring poor so generally well fed, well clothed, well lodged, and well paid, as in the United States of America.

If we enter the cities, we find that, since the revolution, the owners of houses and lots of ground have had their interest vastly augmented in value; rents have risen to an astonishing height, and thence encouragement to increase building, which gives employment to an abundance of workmen, as does also the increased luxury and splendour of living of the inhabitants thus made richer. These work­men all demand and obtain much higher wages than any other part of the world could 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 inhabitants.

At the distance I live from our American fishe­ries, I cannot speak of them with any degree of [Page 113] certainty; but I have not heard that the labour of the valuable race of men employed in them is worse paid, or that they meet with less success, than before the revolution. The whale-men indeed have been deprived of one market for their oil; but another, I hear, is opening for them, which it is hoped may be equally advantageous; and the demand is constantly increasing for their sperma­ceti candles, which there bear a much higher price than formerly.

There remain the merchants and shop-keepers. Of these, though they make but a small part of the whole nation, the number is considerable, too great indeed for the business they are employed in; for the consumption of goods in every coun­try has its limits; the faculties of the people, that is, their ability to buy and pay, is equal only to a certain quantity of merchandize. 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 of leading easier lives, turn shop-keepers, the whole natural quantity of that business divided among them all may afford too small a share for each, and occasion complains that trading is dead; these may also suppose that it is owing to scarcity of money, while in fact, it is not so much from the fewness of buy­ers, as from the excessive number of sellers, that the mischief arises; and, if every shopkeeping farmer and mechanic would return to the use of his plough and working tools, there would remain [Page 114] of widows, and other women, shopkeepers suffici­ent for the business, 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 there, compared 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 throughout these states, where the cultivator works for himself, and supports his fa­mily in decent plenty; will, methinks, see abun­dant reason to bless Divine Providence for the evident and great difference in our favour, and be convinced that no nation known to us enjoys a great­er share of human felicity.

It is true, that in some of the states there are parties and discords; but let us look back, and ask if we were ever without them? Such will exist wherever there is liberty; and perhaps they help to preserve it. By the collision of different senti­ments, sparks of truth are struck out, and political light is obtained. The different factions, which at present divide us, aim all at the public good; the differ­ences are only about the various modes of promoting it. Things, actions, measures, and objects of all kinds, present themselves to the minds of men in such a variety of lights, that it is not possible we should all think alike at the same time on every subject, when hardly the same man retains at all times the same ideas of it. Parties are therefore the common lot of humanity; and ours are by no means more mischievous or less beneficial than those [Page 115] of other countries, nations, and ages, enjoying in the same degree the great blessing of political liberty.

Some indeed among us are not so much grieved for the present state of our affairs, as apprehensive for the future. The growth of luxury alarms them, and they think we are from that alone in the high road to ruin. They observe, that no revenue is sufficient without oeconomy, and that the most plen­tiful income of a whole people from the natural productions of their country may be dissipated in vain and needless expences, and poverty be introduc­ed in the place of affluence.—This may be possible. It however rarely happens: for there seems to be in every nation a greater proportion of industry and frugality, which tend to enrich, than of idleness and prodigality, which occasion poverty; so that upon the whole there is a continual accumulation. Re­flect that Spain, Gaul, Germany, and Britain were in the time of the Romans, inhabited by people little richer than our savages, and consider the wealth they at present possess, in numerous well-built cities, improved farms, rich moveables, magazines stocked with valuable manufactures, to say nothing of plate, jewels, and coined money; and all this, notwith­standing their bad, wasteful, plundering governments, and their made destructive wars; and yet luxury and extravagant living has never suffered much restraint in those countries. Then consider the great pro­portion of industrious frugal farmers inhabiting the interior parts of these American states, and of whom the body of our nation consists, and judge whether it is possible that the luxury of our sea-ports can be sufficient to ruin such a country.—If the importation of foreign luxuries could ruin a people, we should probably have been ruined long ago; for the British [Page 116] nation claimed a right, and practised it, of import­ing among us not only the superfluities of their own production, but those of every nation under heaven; we bought and consumed them, and yet we flourish­ed and grew rich. At present our independent go­vernments may do what we could not then do, dis­courage by heavy duties, or prevent by heavy prohi­bitions, such importations, and thereby grow richer; if, indeed, which may admit of dispute, the desire of adorning ourselves with fine clothes, possessing fine furniture, with elegant houses, &c. is not, by strongly inciting to labour and industry, the occasion of producing a greater value than is consumed in the gratification of that desire.

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

Let us (and there is no doubt but we shall) be attentive to these, and then the power of rivals, with all their restraining and prohibiting acts, can­not much hurt us. We are sons of the earth and seas, and, like Antaeus in the fable, if in wrestling with a Hercules we now and then receive a fall, the touch of our parents will communicate to us fresh strength and vigour to renew the contest.

[Page 117]

INFORMATION TO THOSE WHO WOULD RE­MOVE TO AMERICA.

MANY persons in Europe having, directly, or by letters, expressed to the writer of this, who is well acquainted with North America their desire of transporting and establishing themselves in that country; but who appear to him to have formed, through ignorance, mistaken ideas and expectations of what is to be obtained there; he thinks it may be useful, and prevent inconvenient, expensive, and fruitless removals and voyages of improper persons, if he gives some clearer and truer notions of that part of the world, than have hitherto prevailed.

He finds it imagined by numbers, that the in­habitants of North America are rich, capable of rewarding, and disposed to reward, all sorts of in­genuity; that they are at the same time ignorant of all the sciences, and consequently that strangers, possessing talents in the belles-letters, fine arts, &c. must be heighly esteemed, and so well paid as to become easily rich themselves; that there are also abundance of profitable offices to be disposed of, which the natives are not qualified to fill; and that having few persons of family among them, strangers of birth must be greatly respected, and of course easily obtain the best of those offices, which will make all their fortunes; that the go­vernments too, to encourage emigrations from Eu­rope, not only pay the expence of their personal transportation, but give lands gratis to strangers, [Page 118] with negroes to work for them, utensils of hus­bandry, and stocks of cattle. These are all wild imaginations; and those who go to America with expectations founded upon them, will surely find themselves disappointed.

The truth is, that though there are in that coun­try few people so miserable as the poor of Europe, there are also 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 [...]urope for painting, statues, architecture, and the other works of art that are more curious than useful. Hence the natural geniuses that have ari­sen in America, with such talents, have uniformly quitted that country for Europe, where they can be more suitably rewarded. It is true that letters and mathematical knowledge are in esteem there but they are at the same time more common than is apprehended; there being already existing nine colleges, or universities, viz. four in New-England, and one [...] each of the provinces of New-York, New-Jersey, Pennsylvania, Maryland, and Virgi­nia, all furnished with learned professors; besides a number of smaller academies: these educate many of their youth in the languages, and those sci­ences that qualify men for the professions of divi­nity, law, or 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 officers, or [Page 119] employments, there are few; no superfluous ones as in Europe; and it is a rule established in some of the states, that no office should be so profitable as to make it desirable. The 36th article of the constitution of Pennsylvania runs expressly in these words: "As every freeman, to preserve his inde­pendence, (if he has not a sufficient estate) ought to have some profession, calling, trade, or farm, where­by he may honestly subsist, there can be no neces­sity for, nor use in establishing offices of profit; the usual effects of which are dependence and servility, unbecoming freemen, in the possessors and expec­tants; faction, contention, corruption, and disor­der among the people. Wherefore, whenever an office, through increase of fees or otherwise, be­comes so [...]fitable as to occasion many to apply for it, the profits ought to be lessened by the legis­lature."

These ideas prevailing more or less in all the United States, it cannot be worth any man's while who has a means of living at home, to expatiate himself in hopes of obtaining a profitable civil of­fice in America; and as to military offices, they are at an end with the war, the armies being dis­banded. Much less is it adviseable for a person to go thither, who has no other quality to recommend him but his birth. In Europe, it has indeed its value; but it is a commodity that cannot be carried to a worse market than to that of America, where people do not enquire concerning a stranger, What is he? but What can he do? If he has any useful art, he is welcome; and if he exercises it, and be­haves well, he will be respected by all that know him; but a mere man of quality, who on that ac­count wants to live upon the public by some office [Page 120] or salary, will be despised and disregarded. The husbandman is in honour there, and even the me­chanic, because their employments are useful. The people have a saying, that God Almighty is him­self a mechanic, the greatest in the universe: and he is respected and admired more for the variety, ingenuity, and utility of his handiworks, 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 e [...]ery ting workee; on­ly de hog. He de hog, no workee; he cat, he drink, he walk about, he go to sleep when he please, he libb like a gentleman. According to these opi­nions of the Americans, one of them would think himself more obliged to a genealogist, who could prove for him that his ancestors and relations for ten generations had been ploughmen, smiths, car­penters, turners, weavers, tanners, or even shoe­makers, and consequently that they were useful members of society; than if he could only prove that they were gentlemen, doing nothing of value, but living idly on the labour of others, mere feuges consumere nati *, and otherwise good for nothing, till by their death their estates, like the carcase of the negro's gentleman-hog, come to be cut up.

With regard to encouragements for strangers from government, they are really only what are derived from good laws and liberty. Strangers are welcome because there is room enough for them all, and therefore the old inhabitants are not jea­lous of them; the laws protect them sufficiently, [Page 121] so that they have no need of the patronage of great men; and every one will enjoy securely the profits of his industry. But if he does not bring a fortune with him, he must work and be industrious to live. One or two years residence give him all the rights of a citizen; but the government does not at pre­sent, whatever it may have done in former times, hire people to become settlers, by paying their passages, giving land, negroes, utensils, stock, or any other kind of emolument whatsoever. In short, America is the land of labour, and by no means what the English call Lubberland, and the French Pays de Co [...]gne, where the streets are said to be paved with half-peck loaves, the houses tiled with pancakes, and where the fowls fly about ready roasted, crying, Come eat me!

Who then are the kind of persons to whom an emigration to America would 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 property 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 an in Europe, may easily establish them­selves there. A little money saved of the good wages they receive there while they work for others, enables them to buy the land and begin their plan­tation, in which they are assisted by the good-will of their neighbours, and some credit. Multitudes of [Page 122] poor people from England, Ireland, Scotland, and Germany, have▪ by this means in a few years become wealthy farmers, who in their own countries, where all the lands are fully occupied and the wages of la­bour low, could never have emerged from the mean condition wherein they were born.

From the salubrity of the air, the healthiness of the climate, the plenty of good provisions, and the encouragement to early marriages, by the cer­tainty of subsistence in cultivating the earth, the increase of inhabitants by natural generation is very rapid in America, and becomes still more so by the accession of strangers; hence there is a continual de­mand for more artisans of all the necessary and useful kinds, to supply those cultivators of the earth with houses, and with furniture and utensils of the grosser sorts, which cannot so well be brought from Europe. Tolerable good workmen in any of those mechanic arts, are sure to find employ, and to be well paid for their work, there being no restraints preventing strangers from exercising any art they understand, nor any permission necessary. If they are poor, they be­gin first as servants or journeymen; and if they are sober, industrious, and frugal, they soon become mas­ters, establish themselves in business, marry, raise fa­milies, and become respectable citizens.

Also, persons of moderate fortunes and capitals, who having a number of children to provide for, are desirous of bringing them up to industry, and to secure estates for their posterity, have opportunities of doing it in America, which Eu­rope does not afford. There they may be taught and practise profitable mechanic arts, without in­curring disgrace on that account; but on the contrary acquiring respect by such abilities. There [Page 123] small capitals laid out in lands, which daily be­come more valuable by the increase of people, af­ford a solid prospect of ample fortunes thereafter for those children. The writer of this has known several instances of large tracts of land, bought our what was then the frontier of Pennsylvania, 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 go­vernment in America, would do well to read the constitutions of the several states, and the articles of confederation that bind the whole together for general purposes, under the direction of one assem­bly, called the Congress. These constitutions have been printed, by order of Congress, in America; two editions of them have also been printed in London; and a good translation of them into French, has lately been published at Paris.

Several of the princes of Europe having of late, from an opinion of advantage to arise by produc­ing all commodities and manufactures within their own dominions, so as to diminish or render useless their importations have endeavoured to entice workmen from other countries, by high salaries, privileges, &c. Many persons pretending to be skilled in various great manufactures, imagining that America must be in want of them, and that the Congress would probably be disposed to imitate the princes above mentioned, have proposed to go over, on condition of having their passages paid, land given, salaries appointed, exclusive [...] [Page 124] for terms of years, &c. Such persons, on reading the articles of confederation, will find that the Congress have no power committed to them, or money put into their hands for such purposes; and that if any such encouragement is given, it must be by the government of some particular state. This, however, has rarely been done in America; and when it has been done, it has rarely succeeded, so as to establish a manufacture, which the coun­try was not yet so ripe for as to encourage private persons to set it up; labour being generally too dear there, and hands difficult to be kept together eve­ry one desiring to be a master, and the cheapness of land inclining many to leave trades for agricul­ture. Some indeed have met with success, and are carried on to advantage; but they are generally such as require only a few hands, or wherein great part of the work is performed by machines. Goods that are bulky, and of so small value as not well to bear the expence of freight may often be made cheaper in the country, than they can be import­ed; and the manufacture of such goods will be profitable wherever there is a sufficient demand. The farmers in America produce indeed a good deal of wool and flax; and none is exported, it is all worked up; but it is in the way of domestic manufacture, for the use of the family. The buy­ing up quantities of wool and flax, with the design to employ spinners weavers, &c. and form great establishments, producing quantities of linen and woollen goods for sale, has been several times at­tempted in different provinces; but those projects have generally failed, goods of equal value being imported cheaper. And when the governments have been solicited to support such schems by en­couragements, [Page 125] in money, or by imposing duties on importation of such goods, it has been generally refused, on this principle, that if the country is ripe for the manufacture, it may be carried on by pri­vate persons to advantage; and if not, it is a folly to think of forcing nature. Great establishments of manufacture, require great numbers of poor to do the work for small wages; those poor are to be found in Europe, but will not be found in Ame­rica, till the lands are all taken up and cultiva­ted, and the excess of people who cannot get land want employment. The manufacture of silk, they say, is natural in France, as that of cloth in Eng­land, because each country produces in plenty the first material: but if England will have a manu­facture of silk as well as that of cloth, and France of cloth as well as that of silk, these unnatural ope­rations must be supported by mutual prohibiti­ons, or high duties on the importation of each other's goods; by which means the workmen are enabled to tax the home consumer by greater prices, while the higher wages they receive makes them neither happier nor richer, since they only drink more and work less. Therefore the govern­ments of America do nothing to encourage such projects. The people, by this means, are not im­posed on, either by the merchant or mechanic: if the merchant demands too much profit on imported shoes they buy of the shoemaker; and if he asks too high a price, they take them of the merchant; thus the two professions are checks on each other. The shoemaker, however, has, on the whole a considerable profit upon his labour in America, be­yond what he had in Europe, as he can add to his price a sum nearly equal to all the expences o [...] [Page 126] freight and commission, risque or insurance, &c. necessarily charged by the merchant. And it is the same with every other machanic art. Hence it is that artisans generally live better and more easily in America than in Europe; and such as are good oecconomists make a comfortable provision for age, and for their children. Such may, therefore remove with advantage to America.

In the old long-settled countries of Europe, all arts, trades, professions, farms, &c. are so full, that it is difficult for a poor man who has children to place them where they may gain, or learn to gain a decent livelihood. The artisans, who fear cre­ating future rivals in business, refuse to take ap­prencices, but upon conditions of money, mainte­nance, or the like, which the parents are unable to comply with. Hence the youth are dragged up in ignorance of every gainful art, and obliged to become soldiers, or servants, or thieves, for a sub­sistence. In America, the rapid increase of inhabi­tants takes away that fear of rivalship, and artisans willingly receive apprentices from the hope of pro­fit by their labour, during the remainder of the time stipulated, after they shall be instructed. Hence it is easy for poor families to get their chil­dren instructed; for the artisans are so desirous of apprentices, that many of them will even give mo­ney to the parents, to have boys from ten to fifteen years of age bound apprentices to them, till the age of twenty-one; and many poor parents have, by that means, on their arrival in the country, rais­ed money enough to buy land sufficient to establish themselves, and to subsist the rest of their family by agriculture. These contracts for apprentices are made before a magistrate, who regulates the [Page 127] agreement according to reason and justice; and having in view the formation of a future useful citizen, obliges the master to engage by a written indenture, not only that, during the time of service stipulated, the apprentice shall be duly provided with meat, drink, apparel, washing, and lodging, and at its expiration with a complete new suit of clothes, but also that he shall be taught to read, write and cast accounts; and that he shall be well instructed in the art or profession of his master, or some other, by which he may afterwards gain a livlihood, and be able in his return to raise a fami­ly. A copy of this indenture is given to the ap­prentice or his friends, and the magistrate keeps a record of it, to which recourse may be had, in case of failure by the master in any point of perform­ance. This desire among the masters to have more hands employed in working for them, induces them to pay the passages of young persons, of both sexes, who, on their arrival, agree to serve them one, two, three, or four years: those who have al­ready learned a trade, agreeing for a shorter term, in proportion to their skill, and the consequent immediate value of their service: and those who have none, agreeing for a longer term, in consider­ation of being taught an art their poverty would not permit them to acquire in their own country.

The almost general mediocrity of fortune that prevails in America, obliging its people to follow some business for subsistence, those vices that arise usually from idleness, are in a great measure pre­vented. Industry and constant employment are great preservatives of the morals and virtue of a na­tion. Hence bad examples to youth are more rare in America, which must be a comfortable consider­ation [Page 128] to parents. To this may be truly added, that serious religion, under its various denomina­tions, is not only tolerated, but respected and prac­tised. Atheism is unknown there; infidelity rare and secret; so that persons may live to a great age in that country without having their piety shocked by meeting with either an atheist or an infidel. And the Divine Being seems to have manifested his approbation of the mutual forbearance and kindness with which the different sects treat each other, by the remarkable prosperity with which he has been pleased to favour the whole country.

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 further 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, indeed, as well as most sects of religion; think themselves in possession of all truth, and that whenever others differ from them, it is so far error. [Page 129] 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, the 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 of that of their sect, few express it so naturally as a cirtain French la­dy, who, in a little dispute with her sister, said, I don't know how it happens, sister, but I meet with nobody but myself that is always in the right. Il n'y a que moi qui a toujours raison. In these senti­ments, Sir I agree to this constitution, with all its faults, if they are such; because I think a general government necessity 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 administered for a course of years, and can only end in despotism, as other forms have done before it, when the people shall become so corrupted as to need despotic government, being incapable of any other. I doubt too, whether any other convention we can obtain, may be able to make a better constitution. For when you as­semble a number of men, to have the advantage of their joint wisdom, you assemble with those men, all their prejudices, their passions, their errors of opinion, their local interests, and their selfish views. From such an assembly can a perfect production be expected? It therefore astonishes me, Sir, to find this system approaching so near to perfection as it does; and I think it will asto­nish our enemies, who are waiting with confidence, to hear that our councils are confounded, like those of the builders of Babilon, and that our [Page 130] 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 whispered a syllable of them abroad. With­in these walls they were born: and here they shall die. If every one of us, in returning to our con­stituents, were to report the objections he has had to it, and endeavour to gain partisans in support of them, we might prevent its being generally receiv­ed and thereby lose all the salutary effects and great advantages resulting naturally in our favour among foreign nations, as well as among ourselves, from our real or apparent unanimity. Much of the strength or efficiency of any govenment, in procuring and securing happiness to the people, depends on opinion; on the general opinion of the goodness of that government, as well as of the wis­dom and integrity of its governors.

I hope, therefore, that for our own sakes as a part of the people, and for the sake of our posteri­ty we shall act heartily and unanimously in recom­mending this constitution, wherever our influence may extend, and turn our future thoughts and en­deavours to the means of having it well admini­stered.

On the whole, Sir, I cannot help expressing a wish, that every member of the convention, who may still have objections, would with me on this occasion, doubt a little of his own infallibility, and to make manifest our unanimity, put his name to this instrument.

[Page 131] [The motion was then made for adding the last formula, viz.

Done in Convention, by the unanimous consent▪ &c. which was agreed to, and added accordingly.]

SKETCH OF AN ENGLISH SCHOOL. For the Consideration of the Trustees of the Philadel­phia Academy*.

IT is expected that every scholar to be admitted into this school, be at least able to pronounce and divide the syllables in reading, and to write a legi­ble hand. None to be received that are under years of age.

FIRST, OR LOWEST CLASS.

Let the first class learn the English Grammar rules, and at the same time let particular care be taken to improve them in orthography. Perhaps the latter is best done by pairing the scholars; two of those nearest equal in their spelling to be put together. Let these strive for victory; each propounding ten words every day to the other to be spelled. He that spells truly most of the other's words, is victor for that day; he that is victor most days in a month, to obtain a prize, a pretty neat book of some kind, useful in their future studies. This method fixes the attention of children ex­tremely [Page 132] to the orthography of words, 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 language, as to be perpetually confounding words of like sound and different significations; the con­sciousness of which defect makes some men, other­wise of good learning and understanding, averse to writing even a common letter.

Let the pieces read by the scholars in this class be short; such as 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 over by themselves be­fore they are called to read to the master or usher; who is to take particular care that they do not read too fast, and that they duly observe the stops and pauses. A vocabulary of the most usual difficult words might be formed for their use, with expla­nations; and they might daily get a few of those words and explanations by heart, which would a little exercise their memories▪ or at least they might write a number of them in a small book for the pur­pose, which would help to fix the meaning of those words in their minds, and at the same time furnish every one with a little dictionary for his future use.

THE SECOND CLASS

To be taught reading with attention, and with proper modulations of the voice; according to the sentiment and 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 [Page 133] against the morning. Let it then be required of them to give an account, first of the parts of speech and construction of one or two sentences. This will oblige them to recur frequently to their gram­mar, and [...]ix its principal rules in their memory. Next, of the intention of the writer, or the scope of the piece, the meaning of each sentence, and of every uncommon word. This would early ac­quaint them with the meaning and force of words, and give them that most necessary habit, of reading with attention.

The master then to read the piece with the pro­per modulations of voice, due emphasis, and suita­ble action, where action is required; and put the youth on imitating his manner.

Where the author has used an expression not the best, let it be pointed out; and let his beauties be particularly remarked to the youth.

Let the lessons for reading be varied, that the youth may be made acquainted with good styles of all kinds in prose and verse, and the proper man­ner of reading each kind—sometimes a well-told story, a piece of a sermon, a general's speach to his soldiers, a speech in a tragedy, some part of a co­medy, an ode, a satire, a letter, blank verse, Hudi­ [...]rastic, heroic, &c. But let such lessons be chosen for reading, as contain some useful instruction, whereby the understanding or morals of the youth may at the same time be improved.

It is required that they should first study and understand the lessons, before they are put upon reading them properly; to which end each boy should have an English dictionary, to help him [...]ver difficulties. When our boys read English to [...], we are apt to imagine they understand what [Page 134] they read, because we do, and because it is their mother tongue. But they often read, as parrots speak, knowing little or nothing of the meaning. And it is impossible a reader should give the due modulation to his voice, and pronounce properly, unless his understanding goes before his tongue, and makes him master of the sentiment. Accus­toming boys to read aloud what they do not first understand, is the cause of those even set tones so common among readers, which, when they have once got a habit of using, they find so difficult to correct; by which means, among fifty readers we scarcely find a good one. For want of good read­ing, pieces published with a view to influence the minds of men, for their own or the 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 within the reach of his 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. Let the scholars of this class begin with learning the elements of rhetoric from some short system, so as to be able to give an acount of the most useful tropes and fi­gures. Let all their bad habits of speaking, all offences against good grammar, all corrupt or fo­reign accents and all improper phrases, be pointed out to them. Short speeches from the Roman or other history, or from the parliamentary debates, might be got by heart, and delivered with the proper action, &c. Speeches and scenes in our best [Page 135] tragedies and comedies (avoiding things that could injure the morals of youth) might likewise be got by rote, and the boys exercised in delivering or acting them; great care being taken to form their manner after the truest models.

For their farther improvement, and a little to vary their studies, let them now begin to read hi­story, after having got by heart a short table of the principal epochas in chronology. They may be­gin with Rollin's ancient and Roman histories, and proceed at proper hours, as they go through the subsequent classes, with the best histories of our own nation and colonies. Let emulation be ex­cited among the boys, by giving 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 remarking on the history, the master will have fine oportunities of instilling instruction of various kinds, and improving the morals, as well as the understandings of youth.

The natural and mechanic history, contained in the Spectacle de la Nature, might also be began in this class, and continued through the subsequent classes by other books of the same kind; for, next to the knowledge of duty, this kind of knowledge is certainly the most useful, as well as the most en­tertaining. The merchant may thereby be ena­bled better to understand many commodities in trade; the handicraftsman to improve his business by new instruments, mixtures and materials; and frequently hints are given for new manufactures▪ or new methods of improving land, that may be [Page 136] set on foot greatly to the advantage of the coun­try.

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 business to take care that the boys make fair characters, and place them straight and even in the lines; but to form their style, and even to take care that the stops and capitals are properly dispos­ed, is the part of the English master. The boys should be put on writing letters to each other on any common occurrences, and on various subjects, imaginary business, &c. containing little stories, accounts of their late reading, what parts of au­thors please them, and why; letters of congratula­tion, of compliment, of request, of thanks, of re­commendation, of admonition, of consolation, of expostulation, excuse, &c. In these they should be taught to express themselves clearly, concisely and naturally without affected words or high flown phrases. All their letters to pass through the master's hand, who is to point out the faults, ad­vise the corrections, and commend what he finds right. Some of the best letters published in our own language, as Sir, William Temple's, those of Pope and his friends, and some others, might be set before the youth as models, their beauties pointed out and explained by the master, the letters them­selves transcribed by the scholar.

Dr. Johnson's Ethices Elementa, or First Princi­ples of Morality, may now be read by the scholars, and explained by the master to lay a solid founda­tion of virtue and piety in their minds. And as this class continues the reading of history, let them [Page 137] now, at proper hours, receive some farther instruc­tion in chronology, and in that part of geography (from the mathematical master) which is necessa­ry to understand the maps and globes. They should also be acquainted with the modern names of the places they find mentioned in ancient wri­ters. The exercises of good reading, and proper speaking, still continued at 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 nothing acquaints a lad so speedily with variety of expression as the necessity of finding such words and phrases as well suit the measure, sound and rhime of verse, and at the same time well express the sentiment. These essays should all pass under the master's eye, who will point out their faults, and put the writer on correcting them. Where the judgment is not ripe enough for forming new essays, let the sentiments of a Spectator be given, and required to be clothed in the scholar's own words: or the circumstances of some good story; the scholar to find expression Let them be put sometimes on abridging a paragraph of a diffuse author: sometimes on dilating or amplifying what is wrote mere closely. And now let Dr. Johnson's Noetica, or First Principles of Human Knowledge, containing a logic, or art of reasoning, &c. be read by the youth, and the difficulties that may occur to them be explained by the master. The reading of history, and the exercises of good reading and just speaking, still continued.

[Page 138]

SIXTH CLASS.

In this class besides continuing the studies of the preceding in history, rhetoric, logic, moral and natu­ral philosophy, the best English authors may be read and explained; as Tillotson, Milton Locke, Ad­dison, Pope, Swift, the higher papers in the Spec­tator and Guardian, the best translations of Homer, Virgil and Horace, of Telemachus, Travels of Cy­ [...]us, &c.

Once a year let there be public exercises in the hall; the trustees and citizens present. Then let fine gilt books be given as prizes to such boys as distinguish themselves, and excel the others in any branch of learning, making three degrees of com­parison: giving the best prize to him that per­forms best; a less valuable one to him that comes up next to the best: and another to the third, Commendations, encouragement, and advice to the rest; keeping up their hopes, that, by industry, they may excel another time. The names of those that obtain the prize, to be yearly printed in a list.

The hours of each day are to be divided and disposed in such a manner as that some classes may be with the writing-master, improving their hands; others with the mathematical master, learning arith­metic, accounts, geography, use of [...] [...], drawing, mechanics, &c. while the rest are in the English school, under the English master's care.

Thus instructed, youth will come out of this school fitted for learning any business, calling, or profession, except such wherein languages are re­quired; and thou unacquainted with any anci­ent or foreign to [...], they will be masters of [Page 139] their own, which is of more immediate and general use; and withal will have attained many other valuable accomplishments: 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.

FINIS.
[Page]

The Book-Binders will please to observe, and fold Signature A 3, out, in vol. 1st. In vol. 2d. there are two Signature F'

[Page]

CONTENTS.

VOLUME I.
  • Page
  • Life of Dr. Franklin, as written by himself 1—105
  • Continuation of his Life, by Dr. Stuber 106—162
  • Extracts from his Will 163—172.
VOLUME II.
  • On Early Marriages 3
  • On the Death of his Brother, Mr. John Frank­lin 5
  • To the late Doctor Mather of Boston 7
  • The Whistle, a true Story; written to his Ne­phew 9
  • A Petition of the Left Hand 11
  • The handsome and deformed Leg 13
  • Conversation of a Company of Ephemeroe, with the Soliloquy of one advanced in age 16
  • Morals of Chess 18
  • The Art of procuring pleasant Dreams 23
  • Advice to a young Tradesman 30
  • Necessary Hints to those that would be rich 32
  • The Way to make Money plenty in every Man's Pocket 34
  • An oeconomical Project 35
  • On modern Innovations in the English Lan­guage, and in Printing 42
  • An Account of the highest Court of Judicature in Pennsylvania, viz. The Court of the Press 49
  • Paper: a Poem 54
  • On the Art of Swimming 56
  • [Page] New Mode of Bathing 59
  • Observations on the generally prevailing Doc­trines of Life and Death
  • 61
  • Precautions to be taken by those who are about to undertake a Sea Voyage 63
  • On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry 70
  • On the slave Trade 75
  • Observations on War 80
  • On the Impress of Seamen 82
  • On the Criminal Laws, and the Practice of Privateering 86
  • Remarks concerning the Savages of North Ame­rica 95
  • To Mr. Dubourg, concerning the Dissentions between England and America 103
  • A Comparison of the conduct of the ancient Jews, and of the Antifederalists of the Uni­ted States of America 104
  • The internal State of America: being a true Description of the Interest and Policy of that vast Continent 110
  • Information to those who would remove to Ame­rica 117
  • Final Speech of Dr. Franklin in the late Fede­ral Convention 128
  • Sketch of an English School 131

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