i'hOM THE OHJ.C-iNAL PIC TURF. BY JT. . Iv IN TiJi: PGj-'.^KSfllON OF T! . J . U'l 1 .1. 1 ,\V . TAKKN A'J' THE AC-t C.F : IX'i'Y. THE WORKS BENJAMIN FRANKLIN; CONTAINING SEVERAL POLITICAL AND HISTORICAL TRACTS NOT INCLUDED IN ANY FORMER EDITION, AND MANY LETTERS OFFICIAL AND PRIVATE NOT HITHERTO PUBLISHED ; WITH NOTES AND A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR. BY JARED SPARKS VOLUME II. BOSTON: WHITTEMORE, NILES, AND HALL. MILWAUKIE: A. WHITTEMORE & CO. 1856. ' A 'I Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight hundred and thirty-six, by MILLIARD, GRAY, AKD Co., in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. ANDOVEU: PRINTED BY AV. F. DKAPEE. c -509, CONTENtS OF VOLUME SECOND. ESSAYS ON RELIGIOUS AND MORAL SUBJECTS AND THE ECONOMY OF LIFE. Page. Articles of Belief and Acts of Religion . . . . \ \S Rules for a Club established for Mutual Improvement . (J The Busy Body 13 " " No. 1 14 " " No. II 17 " " No. Ill 19 - " " No. IV 23 - " {{ No. V 30 " u No. VIII 38 - Dialogue between Philocles and Horatio, concerning Virtue and Pleasure 46 ^ A Second Dialogue between Philocles and Horatio, concerning Virtue and Pleasure . . . .51 * Public Men 57 V/ Self-Denial not the Essence of Virtue . . . .63 On the Usefulness of the Mathematics .... 66 On True Happiness 70 * On Discoveries .73 VI CONTENTS. Waste of Life 77 Necessary Hints to those that would be rich ... 80 The Way to make Money plenty in every Man's Pocket . 82 Rivalship in Almanac-Making ... ... 83 Rules of Health 86 Advice to a Young Tradesman 87 Plan for saving One Hundred Thousand Pounds . 89 The Way to Wealth ; being a Summary of the Maxims and Proverbs in Poor Richard's Almanac . 92 Observations on Mayz, or Indian Corn . . . .103 Precautions to be used by those who are about to undertake a Sea Voyage 106 Toleration in Old England and New England, . . .112 A Parable against Persecution 118 A Parable on Brotherly Love 123 Sketch of an English School 125 Observations relative to the Intentions of the original Founders of the Academy in Philadelphia . .133 Hints for Consideration respecting the Orphan School- House in Philadelphia 159 Paper, a Poem . 161 BAGATELLES. The Levee 164 Proposed New Version of the Bible . . . .166 Apologue 168 To Miss Georgiana Shipley, on the Loss of her Squirrel 170 The Art of procuring Pleasant Dreams . . . .171 The Ephemera, an Emblem of Human Life . . 177 The Whistle 180 A Petition of the Left Hand, to those who have the Superintendency of Education . . . . 183 The Handsome and Deformed Leg . . . .185 CONTENTS. Vll Morals of Chess 187 A Tale 192 An Arabian Tale 193 Dialogue between Franklin and the Gout . . .194 To Madame Helvetius, at Auteuil .... 201 To Madame Helvetius 204 An Humble Petition, presented to Madame Helvetius by her Cats 214 To the Abbe de la Roche, at Auteuil 220 To the Abbe Morellet 222 An Economical Project 227 The Craven-Street Gazette 233 A Letter from China 241 ESSAYS ON GENERAL POLITICS, COMMERCE, AND POLITICAL ECONOMY. A Modest Inquiry into the Nature and Necessity of a Paper Currency ... .... 253 On Government. No. 1 278 " No. II 282 On Freedom of Speech and the Press . . . 285 Observations concerning the Increase of Mankind and the Peopling of Countries 311 v Remarks on some of the Foregoing Observations, showing particularly the Effects which Manners have on Population 321 Remarks on Judge Foster's Argument in Favor of the Right of Impressing Seamen 331 Remarks and Facts relative to the American Paper Money 340 On the Price of Corn, and Management of the Poor 355 On Smuggling, and its Various Species . . . .361 VU1 CONTENTS. Note respecting Trade and Manufactures . . . 366 On the Laboring Poor 367 Some good Whig Principles 372 Positions to be examined, concerning National Wealth . 373 Plan for Benefiting distant unprovided Countries . . 377 Concerning the Provision made in China against Famine 381 Principles of Trade 383 Reflections on Coin in general, being an Appendix to the above Essay .•... ...... 409 Notions concerning Trade and Merchants . . . .418 A Thought concerning the Sugar Islands . . . 419 On the Paper Money of the United States of America . 421 Comparison of Great Britain and the United States, in Regard to the Basis of Credit in the two Countries 426 Reflections on the Augmentation of Wages, which will be occasioned in Europe by the American Revolution ... ..... 435 On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry 448 Remarks concerning the Savages of North America . 453 The Internal State of America ; being a true Description of the Interest and Policy of that vast Continent 461 Information to those who would remove to America 467 On the Criminal Laws and the Practice of Privateering 478 Observations on War 487 On the Elective Franchises, enjoyed by the small Boroughs in England 489 Sir Charles Wyvill's Answer to the foregoing Paper 492 Militia preferable to Regular Troops .... 494 On sending Felons to America 495 The Retort Courteous 498 An Account of the Supremest Court of Judicature in Pennsylvania, viz. The Court of the Press . 503 Plan for Improving the Condition of the Free Blacks . 513 An Address to the Public ; from the Pennsylvania Society for promoting the Abolition of Slavery, CONTENTS. IX and the Relief of Free Negroes unlawfully held in Bondage 515 On the Slave-Trade 517 SUPPLEMENT. A Lecture on the Providence of God in the Government of the World 525 Letter from Anthony Afterwit 532 Letter from Celia Single 536 On Scandal 539 A Case of Casuistry 545 Miscellaneous Observations .... 549 Proposals and Queries for the Consideration of the Junto 551 ESSAYS ON AND THE ECONOMY OF LIFE ESSAYS ON RELIGIOUS AND MORAL SUBJECTS AND THE ECONOMY OF LIFE ARTICLES OF BELIEF AND ACTS OF RELIGION.* PART FIRST. " Here will I hold. If there 's a power above us, (And that there is, all nature cries aloud, Through all her works,) He must delight in virtue; And that which he delights in must be happy." ADDISON'S CATO. FIRST PRINCIPLES. I BELIEVE there is one supreme, most perfect Being, author and father of the gods themselves. For I believe that man is not the most perfect being but one, but rather that there are many degrees of beings superior to him. Also, when I stretch my imagination through and be- yond our system of planets, beyond the visible fixed stars themselves, into that space that is every way infinite, and conceive it filled with suns like ours, each with a chorus of worlds for ever moving round him ; then this little ball on which we move, seems, even in * This paper bears the date of November 20th, 1728, when the author was twenty-two years old. It purports to be the FIRST PART ; but the continuation has never been published. — EDITOR. VOL. II. 1 A 2 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. my narrow imagination, to be almost nothing, and my- self less than nothing, and of no sort of consequence. When I think thus, I imagine it great vanity in me to suppose, that the Supremely Perfect does in the least regard such an inconsiderable nothing as man ; more especially, since it is impossible for me to have any clear idea of that which is infinite and incompre- hensible, I cannot conceive otherwise, than that he the Infinite Father expects or requires no worship or praise from us, but that he is even infinitely above it. But, since there is in all men something like a natural principle, which inclines them to DEVOTION, or the worship of some unseen powder; And since men are endued with reason superior to all other animals, that we are in our world acquainted with ; Therefore I think it seems required of me, and my duty as a man, to pay divine regards to SOMETHING. I conceive, then, that the INFINITE has created many beings or gods, vastly superior to man, who can better conceive his perfections than we, and return him a more rational and glorious praise ; as, among men, the praise of the ignorant or of children is not regarded by the ingenious painter or architect, who is rather honored and pleased with the approbation of wise men and artists. It may be these created gods are immortal ; or it may be, that, after many ages, they are changed, and others supply their places. Howbeit, I conceive that each of these is exceeding wise and good, and very powerful ; and that each has made for himself one glorious sun, attended with a beautiful and admirable system of planets. It is that particular wise and good God, who is the author and owner of our system, that I propose for the object of my praise and adoration. MISCELLANEOUS. 3 For I conceive that he has in himself some of those passions he has planted in us ; and that, since he has given us reason whereby we are capable of observing his wisdom in the creation, he is not above caring for us, being pleased with our praise, and offended when we slight him, or neglect his glory. I conceive, for many reasons, that he is a good Be- ing ; and, as I should be happy to have so wise, good, and powerful a Being my friend, let me consider in what manner I shall make myself most acceptable to him. Next to the praise resulting from and due to his wisdom, I believe he is pleased and delights in the happiness of those he has created ; and, since without virtue a man can have no happiness in this world, I firmly believe he delights to see me virtuous, because he is pleased when he sees me happy. And since he has created many things, which seem purely designed for the delight of man, I believe he is not offended, when he sees his children solace them- selves in any manner of pleasant exercises and innocent delights ; and I think no pleasure innocent, that is to man hurtful. I love him therefore for his goodness, and I adore him for his wisdom. Let me not fail, then, to praise my God continu- ally, for it is his due, and it is all I can return for his many favors and great goodness to me ; and let me resolve to be virtuous, that I may be happy, that I may please him, who is delighted to see me happy. Amen! ADORATION. PREL. Being mindful, that, before I address the Deity, my soul ought to be calm and serene, free from passion and perturbation, or otherwise elevated 4 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. with rational joy and pleasure, I ought to use a countenance that expresses a filial respect, mixed with a kind of smiling, that signifies inward joy, and satisfaction, and admiration. O wise God, my good Father! Thou beholdest the sincerity of my heart and of my devotion ; grant me a continuance of thy favor ! 1. O Creator, O Father! I believe that thou art good, and that thou art pleased with the pleasure of thy chil- dren.— Praised be thy name for ever! 2. By thy power hast thou made the glorious sun, with his attending worlds ; from the energy of thy mighty will, they first received [their prodigious] mo- tion, and by thy wisdom hast thou prescribed the won- drous laws, by which they move. — Praised be thy name for ever ! 3. By thy wisdom hast thou formed all things ; thou hast created man, bestowing life and reason, and placed him hi dignity superior to thy other earthly creatures. — Praised be thy name for ever ! 4. Thy wisdom, thy power, and thy goodness are everywhere clearly seen ; in the air and in the water, in the heavens and on the earth ; thou providest for the various winged fowl, and the innumerable inhab- itants of the water; thou givest cold and heat, rain and sunshine, in their season, and to the fruits of the earth their increase. — Praised be thy name for ever! 5. Thou abhorrest in thy creatures treachery and de- ceit, malice, revenge, [intemperance,] and every other hurtful vice ; but thou art a lover of justice and sin- cerity, of friendship and benevolence, and every virtue ; thou art my friend, my father, and my benefactor. — Praised be thy name, O God, for ever ! Amen. MISCELLANEOUS. 5 [After this, it will not be improper to read part of some such book as Ray's Wisdom of God in the Crea- tion, or Blacknwre on the Creation, and the Archbishop of Cambray's Demonstration of the Being of a God, &c., or else spend some minutes in a serious silence, con- templating on those subjects.] Then sing MILTON'S HYMN TO THE CREATOR. " These are thy glorious works, Parent of good, Almighty, thine this universal frame, Thus wondrous fair ; thyself how wondrous then ! Speak ye who best can tell, ye sons of light, Angels, for ye behold him, and with songs And choral symphonies, day without night, Circle his throne rejoicing ; ye in heaven, On earth join all ye creatures to extol Him first, him last, him midst, and without end. " Fairest of stars, last in the train of night, If rather thou belong not to the dawn, Sure pledge of day, that crown'st the smiling morn With thy bright circlet, praise him in thy sphere While day arises, that sweet hour of prime. Thou sun, of this great world both eye and soul, Acknowledge him thy greater; sound his praise In thy eternal course, both when thou climb'st, And when high noon hast gain'd, and when thou fall'st. Moon, that now meet'st the orient sun, now fly'st, With the fix'd stars, fix'd in their orb that flies ; And ye five other wandering fires, that move In mystic dance not without song, resound His praise, who out of darkness call'd up light. Air, and ye elements, the eldest birth Of nature's womb, that in quaternion run Perpetual circle, multiform, and mix And nourish all things ; let your ceaseless change Vary to our great Maker still new praise. Ye mists and exhalations, that now rise From hill or steaming lake, dusky or grey, Till the sun paint your fleecy skirts with gold, In honor to the world's great Author rise ; A* 6 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Whether to deck with clouds the uncolored sky, Or wet the thirsty earth with falling showers, Rising or falling still advance his praise. His praise, ye winds that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and wave your tops, ye pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave. Fountains, and ye that warble, as ye flow, Melodious murmurs, warbling tune his praise. Join voices, all ye living souls ; ye birds, That singing, up to heaven gate ascend, Bear on your wings and in your notes his praise; Ye that in waters glide, and ye that walk The earth, and stately tread, or lowly creep ; Witness if I be silent, morn or even, To hill, or valley, fountain, or fresh shade, Made vocal by my song, and taught his praise." [Here follows the reading of some book, or part of a book, discoursing on and exciting to moral virtue.] PETITION. PREL. Inasmuch as by reason of our ignorance we cannot be certain that many things, which we often hear mentioned in the petitions of men to the Deity, would prove real goods, if they were in our possession, and as I have reason to hope and believe that the goodness of my heavenly Father will not withhold from me a suita- ble share of temporal blessings, if by a virtuous and holy life I conciliate his favor and kindness ; therefore I presume not to ask such things ; but rather, humbly, and with a sincere heart, express my earnest desire that Ke would graciously assist my continual endeavours and resolutions of eschewing vice and embracing vir- tue ; which kind of supplications will at the same time remind me in a solemn manner of my extensive duty. That I may be preserved from atheism, impiety, and profaneness ; and, in my addresses to Thee, carefully avoid irreverence and ostentation, formality and odious hypocrisy, — Help me, O Father! MISCELLANEOUS. 7 That I may be loyal to my prince, and faithful to my country, careful for its good, valiant in its defence, and obedient to its laws, abhorring treason as much as tyranny, — Help me, O Father ! That I may to those above me be dutiful, humble, and submissive ; avoiding pride, disrespect, and con- tumacy, — Help me, O Father ! That I may to those below me be gracious, conde- scending, and forgiving, using clemency, protecting in- nocent distress, avoiding cruelty, harshness, and op- pression, insolence, and unreasonable severity, — Help me, O Father! That I may refrain from calumny and detraction ; that I may abhor and avoid deceit and envy, fraud, flattery, and hatred, malice, lying, and ingratitude, — Help me, O Father! That I may be sincere in friendship, faithful in trust, and impartial in judgment, watchful against pride, and against anger (that momentary madness), — Help me, O Father! That I may be just in all my dealings, temperate in my pleasures, full of candor and ingenuousness, hu- manity and benevolence, — Help me, O Father ! That I may be grateful to my benefactors, and gen- erous to my friends, exercising charity and liberality to the poor, and pity to the miserable, — Help me, O Father ! That I may possess integrity and evenness of mind, resolution in difficulties, and fortitude under affliction ; that I may be punctual in performing my promises, peaceable and prudent in my behaviour, — Help me, 0 Father! That I may have tenderness for the weak, and rev- erent respect for the ancient ; that I may be kind to 8 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. my neighbours, good-natured to my companions, and hospitable to strangers, — Help me, O Father ! That I may be averse to craft and over-reaching, abhor extortion, perjury, and every kind of wicked- ness,— Help me, O Father! That I may be honest and open-hearted, gentle, merciful, and good, cheerful in spirit, rejoicing in the good of others, — Help me, O Father ! That I may have a constant regard to honor and probity, that I may possess a perfect innocence and a good conscience, and at length become truly virtuous and magnanimous, — Help me, good God; help me, O Father ! And, forasmuch as ingratitude is one of the most odious of vices, let me not be unmindful gratefully to acknowledge the favors I receive from Heaven. THANKS. For peace and liberty, for food and raiment, for corn, and wine, and milk, and every kind of healthful nour- ishment, — Good God, I thank thee ! For the common benefits of air and light ; for use- ful fire and delicious water, — Good God, I thank thee! For knowledge, and literature, and every useful art • for my friends and their prosperity, and for the few- ness of my enemies, — Good God, I thank .thee ! For all thy innumerable benefits ; for life, and rea- son, and the use of speech; for health, and joy, and every pleasant hour, — My good God, I thank thee! MISCELLANEOUS. RULES FOR A CLUB ESTABLISHED FOR MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT.* PREVIOUS QUESTION, TO BE ANSWERED AT EVERY MEETING. HAVE you read over these queries this morning, in order to consider what you might have to offer the Junto touching any one of them ? viz. 1. Have you met with any thing in the author you last read, remarkable, or suitable to be communicated to the Junto? particularly in history, morality, poetry, physic, travels, mechanic arts, or other parts of know- ledge. 2. What new story have you lately heard agreeable for telling in conversation 1 3. Hath any citizen in your knowledge failed in his business lately, and what have you heard of the cause ? * These Rides were drawn up in the year 1728, and designed as general regulations for a Club, called THE JUNTO, consisting of a select number of Franklin's acquaintances in Philadelphia, whom he had in- duced to associate and hold weekly meetings for mutual improvement The plan was to propose and discuss queries on points of morals, politics, and natural philosophy. "Our debates," says Franklin, "were to be under the direction of a president, and to be conducted in the sincere spirit of inquiry after truth, without fondness for dispute, or desire of victory ; and, to prevent warmth, all expressions of positiveness in opin- ions, or direct contradiction, were, after some time, made contraband, and prohibited under small pecuniary penalties." This association produced all the advantages anticipated from it Forty years after its establish- ment, it became the basis of the AMERICAN PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY, of which Franklin was the first president, and the published Transactions of which have contributed largely to the advancement of science and the diffusion of valuable knowledge in the United States. When the Philosophical Society was instituted, a book containing many of the questions discussed by the JUNTO was put into the hands of Dr. William Smith, who selected from it, and published in his " Eulogium on Franklin" (p. 13,) the following specimens. — EDITOR. " Is sound an entity or body ? " How may the phenomena of vapors be explained ? VOL. II. 2 10 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 4. Have you lately heard of any citizen's thriving well, and by what means ? 5. Have you lately heard how any present rich man, here or elsewhere, got his estate ? 6. Do you know of a fellow citizen, who has lately done a worthy action, deserving praise and imitation; or who has lately committed an error, proper for us to be warned against and avoid ? 7. What unhappy effects of intemperance have you lately observed or heard ; of imprudence, of passion, or of any other vice or folly ? 8. What happy effects of temperance, of prudence, of moderation, or of any other virtue ? 9. Have you or any of your acquaintance been late- ly sick or wounded? If so, what remedies were used, and what were their effects ? 10. Whom do you know that are shortly going voyages or journeys, if one should have occasion to send by them ? ^' Is self-interest the rudder that steers mankind, the universal monarch to whom all are tributaries ? " Which is the best form of government, and what was that form which first prevailed among mankind ? " Can any one particular form of government suit all mankind ? " What is the reason that the tides rise higher in the Bay of Fundy, than the Bay of Delaware ? " Is the emission of paper money safe ? " What is the reason that men of the greatest knowledge are not the most happy? " How may the possessions of the Lakes be improved to our advantage ? "Why are tumultuous, uneasy sensations, united with our desires? "Whether it ought to be the aim of philosophy to eradicate the passions ? " How may smoky chimneys be best cured ? " Why does the flame of a candle tend upwards in a spire ? "Which is least criminal, a bad action joined with a good intention, or a good action with a bad intention ? " Is it inconsistent with the principles of liberty in a free government, to punish a man as a libeller, when he speaks the truth ? " MISCELLANEOUS. 11 11. Do you think of any thing at present, in which the Junto may be serviceable to mankind, to their country, to their friends, or to themselves 1 12. Hath any deserving stranger arrived in town since last meeting, that you have heard of ? And what have you heard or observed of his character or merits ? And whether, think you, it lies hi the power of the Junto to oblige him, or encourage him as he deserves ? 13. Do you know of any deserving young beginner lately set up, whom it lies in the power of the Junto any way to encourage 1 14. Have you lately observed any defect in the laws of your country, of which it would be proper to move the legislature for an amendment ? Or do you know of any beneficial law that is wanting ? 15. Have you lately observed any encroachment on the just liberties of the people ? 16. Hath any body attacked your reputation lately ? And what can the Junto do towards securing it ? 17. Is there any man whose friendship you want, and which the Junto, or any of them, can procure for you 1 18. Have you lately heard any member's character attacked, and how have you defended it ? 19. Hath any man injured you, from whom it is in the power of the Junto to procure redress ? 20. In what manner can the Junto, or any of them, assist you in any of your honorable designs ? 21. Have you any weighty aifair on hand, in which you think the advice of the Junto may be of service ? 22. What benefits have you lately received from any man not present ? 23. Is there any difficulty hi matters of opinion, of justice, and injustice, which you would gladly have discussed at this time ? 12 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 24. Do you see any thing amiss in the present cus- toms or proceedings of the Junto, which might be amended ? Any person to be qualified [as a member of the JUNTO], to stand up, and lay his hand upon his breast, and be asked these questions, viz. 1. Have you any particular disrespect to any present members 1 Answer. I have not. 2. Do you sincerely declare, that you love mankind in general, of what profession or religion soever ? Answer. I do. 3. Do you think any person ought to be harmed in his body, name, or goods, for mere speculative opin- ions, or his external way of worship ? Answer. No. 4. Do you love truth for truth's sake, and will you " endeavour impartially to find and receive it yourself, and communicate it to others 1 jlnsicer. Yes. MISCELLANEOUS. THE BUSY-BODY. AFTER Franklin's return from his first visit to England, he en- paged in the printing business on his own account at Philadelphia, and formed the project of setting up a newspaper. There were at this time two other printers in the city, Keimer and Bradford, and the latter published a gazette, called The Weekly Mercury, being the first newspaper printed in Pennsylvania. Having but a poor opinion of this paper as then conducted, and yet perceiving that it was 'profitable to the proprietor, Franklin thought there was a fair opportunity for a successful rivalship. He intended to keep his design a secret, however, till he should be ready to put it in execution ; but in the mean time he unguardedly communicated it to George Webb, a journeyman printer, who applied to him for employment, and who made haste to convey the news to Keimer. Stimulated by jealousy, or by a temper ill suited to gain or pre- serve friends, Keimer immediately resolved, in concert with Webb, to take advantage of this hint, and issued proposals for publishing a paper himself. Franklin was piqued at this ungenerous inter- ference, and he conceived it justifiable by proper means to defeat Keimer's plan. With this aim he commenced writing a series of pieces in Bradford's paper, under the title of THE BUSY-BODY, which were of an amusing cast, and designed to draw the attention of the public to that paper. He and his friend Breintnal, at the same time, united their wits in burlesquing and ridiculing Keimer's proposals. The effect was such as he desired. Keimer set his paper on foot ; but it was so ill supported, that it languished from the beginning, and before the end of the year he was glad to sell it to Franklin for a small consideration^ The Essays of THE BUSY-BODY are curious, as being the earliest regular compositions, which are known to have come from the pen of Franklin. They were written at the beginning of his twenty- third year. The style is marked by the peculiar characteristics, which prevail in all his subsequent writings ; ease, simplicity, clear- ness, and a pure English idiom ; and these qualities, indeed, in which he is everywhere unrivalled, seem to have been scarcely less VOL. II. B 14 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. a gift of nature than the effect of study. Without any display of ornament, or labored flights of fancy, his thoughts flow smoothly onward, and are conveyed in a language so lucid and expressive, that the reader's mind is never for a moment embarrassed with obscurity or doubt. In judging of the merits of these essays, in regard to the topics upon which they turn, and the mode of treating them, it would be unjust to the author not to keep in mind his pursuits and habits of life up to the time when they were written, and the forms of society with which his circumstances had neces- sarily made him familiar. And it should equally be remembered, that he did not write for literary fame, nor to win the applause of refined circles, but merely to amuse himself and effect a tem- porary purpose. The first five numbers and the eighth of THE BUSY-BODY are considered as having been unquestionably written by Franklin. Whether he wrote more is uncertain. The series was continued to thirty-two numbers, chiefly if not wholly by Breintnal. — EDITOR. THE BUSY-BODY. — No. I. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1728-9. MR. ANDREW BRADFORD, I DESIGN this to acquaint you, that I, who have long been one of your courteous readers, have lately entertained some thought of setting up for an author myself; not out of the least vanity, I assure you, or desire of showing my parts, but purely for the good of my country. I have often observed with concern, that your Mer- cury is not always equally entertaining. The delay of ships expected in, and want of fresh advices from Europe, make it frequently very dull; and I find the freezing of our river has the same effect on news as trade. With more concern have I continually observed the growing vices and follies of my country-folk ; and, though reformation is properly the concern of every man, that is, every one ought to mend one ; yet it is MISCELLANEOUS. 15 too true in this case, that what is every body's busi- ness is nobody's business; and the business is done accordingly. I therefore, upon mature deliberation, think fit to take nobody's business wholly into my own hands; and, out of zeal for the public good, design to erect myself into a kind of censor monim', purpos- ing, with your allowance, to make use of the Weekly Mercury as a vehicle in which my remonstrances shall be conveyed to the world. I am sensible I have in this particular undertaken a very unthankful office, and expect little besides my labor for my pains. Nay, it is probable, I may dis- please a great number of your readers, who will not very well like to pay ten shillings a year for being told of their faults. But, as most people delight in censure when they themselves are not the objects of it, if any are offended at my publicly exposing their private vices, I promise they shall have the satisfaction, in a very little time, of seeing their good friends and neighbours in the same circumstances. However, let the fair sex be assured, that I shall always treat them and their affairs with the utmost decency and respect. I intend now and then to dedi- cate a chapter wholly to their service ; and if my lectures any way contribute to the embellishment of their minds, and brightening of their understandings, without offending their modesty, I doubt not of having their favor and encouragement. It is certain, that no country in the world produces naturally finer spirits than ours; men of genius for every kind of science, and capable of acquiring to per- fection every qualification that is in esteem among mankind. But as few here have the advantage of good books, for want of which good conversation is still more scarce, it would doubtless have been very 16 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. acceptable to your readers, if, instead of an old out-of- date article from Muscovy or Hungary, you had enter- tained them with some well-chosen extract from a good author. This I shall sometimes do, when I happen to have nothing of my own to say that I think of more consequence. Sometimes I purpose to deliver lec- tures of morality or philosophy, and (because I am naturally inclined to be meddling with things that do not concern me) perhaps I may sometimes talk poli- tics. And if I can by any means furnish out a weekly entertainment for the public that will give a rational diversion, and at the same time be instructive to the readers, I shall think my leisure hours well employed ; and if you publish this, I hereby invite all ingenious gentlemen and others (that approve of such an un- dertaking) to my assistance and correspondence. It is like by this time, you have a curiosity to be acquainted with my name and character. As I do not aim at public praise, I design to remain concealed ; and there are such numbers of our family and relations at this time in the country, that though I have signed my name at full length, I am not under the least ap- prehension of being distinguished and discovered by it. My character, indeed, I would favor you with, but that I am cautious of praising myself, lest I should be told my trumpeter's dead; and I cannot find in my heart at present, to say any thing to my own disad- vantage. It is very common with authors, in their first per- formances, to talk to their readers thus ; " If this meets with a suitable reception, or, if this should meet with due encouragement, I shall hereafter publish, &c." This only manifests the value they put on their own writings, since they think to frighten the public into their applause, by threatening, that, unless you approve MISCELLANEOUS. 17 what they have already wrote, they intend never to write again ; when perhaps it may not be a pin matter whether they ever do or no. As I have not observed the critics to be more favorable on this account, I shall always avoid saying any thing of the kind ; and con- clude with telling you, that, if you send me a bottle of ink and a quire of paper by fiie bearer, you may depend on hearing further from, Sir, your most humble servant, THE BUSY-BODY. THE BUSY-BODY.— No. II. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1728-9. All fools have still an itching to deride, And fain would be upon the laughing side. POPE. MONSIEUR de la Rochefoucault tells us somewhere in his Memoirs, that the Prince of Conde delighted much in ridicule, and used frequently to shut himself up for half a day together in his chamber, with a gentleman that was his favorite, purposely to divert himself with examining what was the foible or ridicu- lous side of every noted person hi the court. That gentleman said afterwards in some company, that he thought nothing was more ridiculous in anybody, than this same humor in the Prince; and I am somewhat inclined to be of this opinion. The general tendency there is among us to this embellishment, which I fear has too often grossly imposed upon my loving country- men instead of wit, and the applause it meets with from a rising generation, fill me with fearful appre- hensions for the future reputation of my country. A VOL. II. 3 B* 18 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. young man of modesty (which is the most certain in- dication of large capacities) is hereby discouraged from attempting to make any figure in life; his apprehen- sions of being out-laughed will force him to continue in a restless obscurity, without having an opportunity of knowing his own merit himself or discovering it to the world, rather than venture to oppose himself in a place where a pun or a sneer shall pass for wit, noise for reason, and the strength of the argument be judged by that of the lungs. Among these witty gentlemen let us take a view of Ridentius. What a contemptible figure does he make with his train of paltry admirers ! This wight shall give himself an hour's diversion with the cock of a man's hat, the heels of his shoes, an unguarded ex- pression in his discourse, or even some personal de- fect ; and the height of his low ambition is to put some one of the company to the blush, who perhaps must pay an equal share of the reckoning with himself. If such a fellow makes laughing the sole end and purpose of his life, if it is necessary to his constitu- tion, or if he has a great desire of growing suddenly fat, let him eat ; let him give public notice where any dull stupid rogues may get a quart of four-penny for being laughed at; but it is barbarously unhandsome, when friends meet for the benefit of conversation and a proper relaxation from business, that one should be the butt of the company, and four men made merry at the cost of the fifth. How different from this character is that of the good-natured, gay Eugenius, who never spoke yet but with a design to divert and please, and who was never yet baulked in his intention. Eugenius takes more de- light in applying the wit of his friends, than in being admired himself; and if any one of the company is so MISCELLANEOUS. 19 unfortunate as to be touched a little too nearly, he will make use of some ingenious artifice to turn the edge of ridicule another way, choosing rather to make himself a public jest, than be at the pain of seeing his friend in confusion. Among the tribe of laughers, I reckon the petty gentlemen that write satires, and carry them about in their pockets, reading them themselves in all company they happen into ; taking an advantage of the ill taste of the town to make themselves famous for a pack of paltry, low nonsense, for which they deserve to be kicked rather. than admired, by all who have the least tincture of politeness. These I take to be the most incorrigible of all my readers ; nay, I expect they will be squibbing at the Busy-Body himself. However, the only favor he begs of them is this, that if they cannot control their overbearing itch of scribbling, let him be attacked in downright biting lyrics; for there is no satire he dreads half so much as an attempt towards a panegyric. THE BUSY-BODY. — No. III. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 18, 1728-9. Non vultus instantis tyranni Mente quatit solidi, neque Auster, Dux inquieti turbidus Adrise, Nee fulminantis raagna Jovis maims. HOR. IT is said that the Persians, in their ancient consti- tution, had public schools in which virtue was taught as a liberal art or science ; and it is certainly of more consequence to a man, that he has learnt to govern his passions in spite of temptation, to be just in his 20 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. dealings, to be temperate in his pleasures, to support himself with fortitude under his misfortunes, to behave with prudence in all his affairs, and in every circum- stance of life ; I say, it is of much more real advantage to him to be thus qualified, than to be a master of all the arts and sciences in the world beside. Virtue alone is sufficient to make a man great, glorious, and happy. He that is acquainted with Cato, as I am, cannot help thinking as I do now, and will acknowledge he deserves the name, without being honored by it. Cato is a man whom fortune has placed in the most obscure part of the- country. His circumstances are such, as only put him above neces- sit}r, without affording him many superfluities ; yet who is greater than Cato? I happened but the other day to be at a house hi town, where, among others, were met men of the most note in this place. Cato had business with some of them, and knocked at the door. The most trifling actions of a man, in my opinion, as well as the smallest features and lineaments of the face, give a nice observer some notion of his mind. Me- thought he rapped in such a peculiar manner, as seem- ed of itself to express there was one, who deserved as well as desired admission. He appeared in the plainest country garb ; his great coat was coarse, and looked old and threadbare ; his linen was homespun ; his beard, perhaps, of seven days' growth ; his shoes thick and heavy ; and every part of his dress corresponding. Why was this man received with such concurring re- spect from every person in the room, even from those who had never known him or seen him before? It was not an exquisite form of person, or grandeur of dress, that struck us with admiration. I believe long habits of virtue have a sensible effect on the countenance. There was something in the air MISCELLANEOUS. 21 of his face, that manifested the true greatness of his mind, which likewise appeared in all he said, and in every part of his behaviour, obliging us to regard him with a kind of veneration. His aspect is sweetened with humanity and benevolence, and at the same tune emboldened with resolution, equally free from diffident bashfulness and an unbecoming assurance. The con- sciousness of his own innate worth and unshaken in- tegrity renders him calm and undaunted in the pres- ence of the most great and powerful, and upon the most extraordinary occasions. His strict justice and known impartiality make him the arbitrator and decider of all differences, that arise for many miles around him, without putting his neighbours to the charge, perplex- ity, and uncertainty of law-suits. He always speaks the thing he means, which he is never afraid or ashamed to do, because he knows he always means well, and therefore is never obliged to blush, and feel the confusion of finding himself detected hi the mean- ness of a falsehood. He never contrives ill against his neighbours, and therefore is never seen with a lowering, suspicious aspect. A mixture of innocence and wis- dom makes him ever seriously cheerful. His generous hospitality to strangers, according to his ability ; his goodness, his charity, his courage in the cause of the oppressed, his fidelity in friendship, his humility, his honesty and sincerity, his moderation, and his loyalty to the government ; his piety, his temperance, his love to mankind, his magnanimity, his public-spiritedness, and, in fine, his consummate virtue, make him justly deserve to be esteemed the glory of his country. " The brave do never shun the light ; Just are their thoughts, and open are their tempers ; Freely without disguise they love and hate ; Still are they found in the fair face of day, And Heaven and men are judges of their actions." HOWE. 22 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Who would not rather choose, if it were in his choice, to merit the above character, than be the rich- est, the most learned, or the most powerful man in the province without it? Almost every man has a strong natural desire of being valued and esteemed by the rest of his species, but I am concerned and grieved to see how few fall into the right and only infallible method of becoming so. That laudable ambition is too commonly misap- plied, and often ill employed. Some, to make them- selves considerable, pursue learning; others grasp at wealth ; some aim at being thought witty ; and others are only careful to make the most of a handsome per- son; but what is wit, or wealth, or form, or learning, when compared with virtue? It is true, we love the handsome, we applaud the learned, and we fear the rich and powerful ; but we even worship and adore the virtuous. Nor is it strange; since men of virtue are so rare, so very rare to be found. If we were as in- dustrious to become good as to make ourselves great, we should become really great by being good, and the number of valuable men would be much increased ; but it is a grand mistake to think of being great with- out goodness ; and I pronounce it as certain, that there was never yet a truly great man, that was not at the same time truly virtuous. O Cretico! thou sour philosopher! thou cunning statesman! thou art crafty, but far from being wise. When wilt thou be esteemed, regarded, and beloved like Cato? When wilt thou, among thy creatures, meet with that unfeigned respect and warm good-will, that all good men have for him? Wilt thou never understand, that the cringing, mean, submissive de- portment of thy dependents, is (like the worship paid by Indians to the Devil) rather through fear of the MISCELLANEOUS. 23 harm thou mayest do them, than out of gratitude for the favors they have received of thee ? Thou art not wholly void of virtue; there are many good things in thee, and many good actions reported of thee. Be advised by thy friend. Neglect those musty authors; let them be covered with dust, and moulder on their proper shelves ; and do thou apply thyself to a study much more profitable, the study of mankind and thy- self. This is to give notice, that the Busy-Body strictly forbids all persons, from this tune forward, of what age, sex, rank, quality, degree, or denomination soever, on any pretence, to inquire who is the author of this paper, on pain of his displeasure, (his own near and dear relations only excepted.) It is to be observed, that if any bad characters happen to be drawn in these papers, they mean no particular person, if they are not particularly applied. Likewise, that the author is no party-man, but a general meddler. N. B. Cretico lives in a neighbouring province. THE BUSY-BODY. — No. IV. TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 25, 1723-9. Ne quid nimis.* IN my first paper I invited the learned and the in- genious to join with me in this undertaking, and 1 now repeat that invitation. I would have such gentle- men take this opportunity (by trying their talent in Nam id arbitror Apprime in vita esse utile, ut ne quid nimis. TERENT. 24 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. writing) of diverting themselves and friends, and im- proving the taste of the town. And because I would encourage all wit of our own growth and produce, I hereby promise, that whoever shall send me a little essay on some moral or other subject, that is fit for public view in this manner, (and not basely borrowed from any other author,) I shall receive it with candor, and take care to place it to the best advantage. It will be hard if we cannot muster up in the whole country a sufficient stock of sense to supply the Busy-Body at least for a twelvemonth. For my own part, I have already professed, that I have the good of my country wholly at heart in this design, without the least sinister view; my chief pur- pose being to inculcate the noble principles of virtue, and deprecate vice of every kind. But, as I know the mob hate instruction, and the generality would never read beyond the first line of my lectures, if they were actually filled with nothing but wholesome precepts and advice, I must therefore sometimes humor them in their own way. There are a set of great names in the province, who are the common objects of popular dislike. If I can now and then overcome my reluct- ance, and prevail with myself to satirize a little one of these gentlemen, the expectation of meeting with such a gratification will induce many to read me through, who would otherwise proceed immediately to the foreign news. As I am very well assured the greatest men among us have a sincere love for their country, notwithstanding its ingratitude, and the insinuations of the envious and malicious to the contrary, so I doubt not but they will cheerfully tolerate me in the liberty I design to take for the end above mentioned. As yet I have but few correspondents, though they begin now to increase. The following letter, left for MISCELLANEOUS. 25 me at the printer's, is one of the first I have received, which I regard the more for that it comes from one of the fair sex, and because I have myself oftentimes suffered under the grievance therein complained of. "TO THE BUSY-BODY. "SIR, " You having set yourself up for a censuror morum, (as I think you call it), which is said to mean a re- former of manners, I know no person more proper to be applied to for redress in all the grievances we suffer from want of manners in some people. You must know I am a single woman, and keep a shop in this town for a livelihood. There is a certain neighbour of mine, who is really agreeable company enough, and with whom I have had an intimacy of some time stand- ing ; but of late she makes her visits so exceedingly often, and stays so very long every visit, that I am tired out of all patience. I have no manner of time at all to myself; and you, who seem to be a wise man, must needs be sensible that every person has little secrets and privacies, that are not proper to be exposed even to the nearest friend. Now I cannot do the least thing in the world, but she must know about it ; and it is a wonder I have found an oppor- tunity to write you this letter. My misfortune is, that I respect her very well, and know not how to disoblige her so much as to tell her I should be glad to have less of her company ; for if I should once hint such a thing, I am afraid she would resent it so as never to darken my door again. "But alas, Sir, I have not yet told you half my affliction. She has two children, that are just big enough to run about and do pretty mischief; these are continually along with mamma, either in my room or VOL. II. 4 C 26 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. shop, if I have ever so many customers or people with me about business. Sometimes they pull the goods off my low shelves down to the ground, and perhaps where one of them has just been making water. My friend takes up the stuff, and cries, « 0 ! thou little wicked mischievous rogue ! But, however, it has done no great damage ; it is only wet a little ; ' and so puts it upon the shelf again. Sometimes they get to my cask of nails behind the counter, and divert themselves, to my great vexation, with mixing my ten-penny, and eight-penny, and four-penny, together. I endeavour to conceal my uneasiness as much as possible, and with a grave look go to sorting them out. She cries, 'Don't thee trouble thyself, neighbour; let them play a little ; I'll put all to rights before I go.' But things are never so put to rights, but that I find a great deal of work to do after they are gone. Thus, Sir, I have all the trouble and pesterment of children, without the pleasure of calling them my own; and they are now so used to being here, that they will be content no- where else. If she would have been so kind as to have moderated her visits to ten times a day, and stayed but half an hour at a time, I should have been con- tented, and I believe never have given you this trou- ble. But this very morning they have so tormented me, that I could bear no longer; for, while the mo- ther was asking me twenty impertinent questions, the youngest got to my nails, and with great delight rattled them by handfuls all over the floor; and the other, at the same time, made such a terrible din upon the counter with a hammer, that I grew half distracted. I was just then about to make myself a new suit of pinners ; but in the fret and confusion I cut it quite out of all manner of shape, and utterly spoiled a piece of the first muslin. MISCELLANEOUS. 27 " Pray, Sir, tell me what I shall do ; and talk a little against such unreasonable visiting in your next paper ; though I would not have her affronted with me for a great deal, for sincerely I love her and her children, as well, I think, as a neighbour can, and she buys a great many things in a year at my shop. But I would beg her to consider, that she uses me unmercifully, though I believe it is only for want of thought. But I have twenty things more to tell you besides all this. There is a handsome gentleman, that has a mind (I don't question) to make love to me, but he can't get the opportunity to O dear ! here she comes again ; I must conclude, yours, &,c. " PATIENCE." Indeed, it is well enough, as it happens, that she is come to shorten this complaint, which I think is full long enough already, and probably would otherwise have been as long again. However, I must confess, I cannot help pitying my correspondent's case; and, in her behalf, exhort the visitor to remember and con- sider the words of the wise man, " Withdraw thy foot from the house of thy neighbour, lest he grow weary of thee, and so hate thee." It is, I believe, a nice thing, and very difficult, to regulate our visits in such a manner, as never to give offence by coming too seldom, or too often, or departing too abruptly, or stay- ing too long. However, in my opinion, it is safest for most people in a general way, who are unwilling to disoblige, to visit seldom, and tarry but a little while in a place, notwithstanding pressing invitations, which are many times insincere. And though more of your company should be really desired, yet in this case, too, much reservedness is a fault more easily excused than the contrary. 28 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Men are subject to various inconveniences merely through lack of a small share of courage, which is a quality very necessary in the common occurrences of life, as well as in a battle. How many impertinences do we daily suffer with great uneasiness, because we have not courage enough to discover our dislike ? And why may not a man use the boldness and freedom of telling his friends, that their long visits sometimes in- commode him ? On this occasion, it may be entertain- ing to some of my readers, if I acquaint them with the Turkish manner of entertaining visiters, which I have from an author of unquestionable veracity ; who assures us, that even the Turks are not so ignorant of civility and the arts of endearment, but that they can practise them with as much exactness as any other nation, whenever they have a mind to show them- selves obliging. "When you visit a person of quality," says he, "and have talked over your business, or the compli- ments, or whatever concern brought you thither, he makes a sign to have things served in for the enter- tainment, which is generally a little sweetmeat, a dish of sherbet, and another of coffee ; all which are imme- diately brought in by the servants, and tendered to all the guests in order, with the greatest care and awful- ness imaginable. At last comes the finishing part of your entertainment, which is, perfuming the beards of the company; a ceremony which is performed in this manner. They have for the purpose a small silver chafing-dish, covered with a lid full of holes, and fixed upon a handsome plate. In this they put some fresh coals, and upon them a piece of lignum aloes ; shutting it up, the smoke immediately ascends with a grateful odor through the holes of the cover. This smoke is held under every one's chin, and offered as it were a MISCELLANEOUS. 29 sacrifice to his beard. The bristly idol soon receives the reverence done to it, and so greedily takes in and incorporates the gummy steam, that it retains the savour of it, and may serve for a nosegay a good while after. " This ceremony may perhaps seem ridiculous at first hearing, but it passes among the Turks for a high gratification. And I will say this in its vindication, that its design is very wise and useful. For it is understood to give a civil dismission to the visitants, intimating to them that the master of the house has business to do, or some other avocations, that permits them to go away as soon as they please, and the sooner after this cere- mony the better. By this means you may, at any time, without offence, deliver yourself from being de- tained from your affairs by tedious and unseasonable visits ; and from being constrained to use that piece of hypocrisy, so common in the world, of pressing those to stay longer with you, whom perhaps in your heart you wish a great way off for having troubled you so long already." Thus far my author. For my own part, I have taken such a fancy to this Turkish custom, that for the future I shall put something like it in practice. I have provided a bottle of right French brandy for the men, and citron-water for the ladies. After I have treated with a dram, and presented a pinch of my best snuff, I expect all company will retire, and leave me to pur- sue my studies for the good of the public. ADVERTISEMENT. I give notice, that I am now actually compiling, and design to publish in a short time, the true history of the rise, growth, and progress of the renowned Tiff Club. All persons who are acquainted with any facts, circumstances, characters, transactions, &,c. which will c* 30 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. be requisite to the perfecting and embellishment of the said work, are desired to communicate the same to the author, and direct their letters to be left with the printer hereof. The letter, signed " Would-be-something" is come to hand. THE BUSY-BODY. — No. V. TUESDAY, MARCH 4, 1728-9. Vos, o patricius sanguis, quos vivere fas est Occipiti caeco, posticse occurrite sannae. PERSIUS. THIS paper being designed for a terrgMcTevil- doers, as well as praise to them that da -well, I am lifted up with secret joy to find, that my undertaking is ap- proved, and encouraged by the just and good, and that few are against me but those, who have reason to fear me. There are little follies in the behaviour of most men, which their best friends are too tender to acquaint them with ; there are little vices and small crimes, which the law has no regard to or remedy for; there are likewise great pieces of villany sometimes so craftily accomplished, and so circumspectly guarded, that the law can take no hold of the actors. All these things, and all things of this nature, come within my province as Censor ; and I am determined not to be negligent of the trust I have reposed in myself, but resolve to exe- cute my office diligently and faithfully. And that all the world may judge with how much humanity, as well as justice, I shall behave in this office; and that even my enemies may be convinced I take no delight to rake into the dunghill lives of MISCELLANEOUS. 31 vicious men ; and to the end that certain persons may be a little eased of their fears, and relieved from the terrible palpitations they have lately felt and suffered, and do still suffer; I hereby graciously pass an act of general oblivion, for all offences, crimes, and mis- demeanors of what kind soever, committed from the beginning of the year 1681, until the day of the date of my first paper, and promise only to concern my- self with such as have been since and shall hereafter be committed. I shall take no notice who has (here- tofore) raised a fortune by fraud and oppression, nor who by deceit and hypocrisy; what woman has been false to her good husband's bed, nor what man has, by barbarous usage or neglect, broken the heart of a faithful wife, and wasted his health and substance in debauchery ; what base wretch has betrayed his friend, and sold his honesty for gold, nor what baser wretch first corrupted him, and then bought the bargain; all this, and much more of the same kind, I shall forget, and pass over in silence ; but then it is to be observed, that I expect and require a sudden and general amend- ment. These threatenings of mine I hope will have a good effect, and, if regarded, may prevent abundance of folly and wickedness in others, and, at the same time, save me abundance of trouble ; and, that people may not flatter themselves with the hopes of concealing their loose misdemeanors from my knowledge, and in that view persist in evil-doing, I must acquaint them, that I have lately entered into an intimacy with the extra- ordinary person, who some time since wrote me the following letter ; and who, having a wonderful faculty, that enables him to discover the most secret iniquity, is capable of giving me great assistance in my designed work of reformation. 32 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. "MR. BUSY-BODY, "I rejoice, Sir, at the opportunity you have given me to be serviceable to you, and, by your means, to this province. You must know, that such have been the circumstances of my life, and such were the mar- vellous concurrences of my birth, that I have not only a faculty of discovering the actions of persons, that are absent or asleep, but even of the devil himself, in many of his secret workings, in the various shapes, habits, and names of men and women ; and, having travelled and conversed much, and met but with a very few of the same perceptions and qualifications, I can recom- mend myself to you as the most useful man you can correspond with. My father's father's father (for we had no grandfathers in our family) was the same John Bunyan, that writ that memorable book, The Pilgrim's Progress, who had, in some degree, a natu- ral faculty of second sight. This faculty (how derived to him our family memoirs are not very clear) was enjoyed by all his descendants, but not by equal tal- ents. It was very dim hi several of my first cousins, and probably had been nearly extinct in our particular branch, had not my father been a traveller. He lived, in his youthful days, hi New England. There he married, and there was born my elder brother, who had so much of this faculty, as to discover witches in some of their occult performances. " My parents transporting themselves to Great Brit- ain, my second brother's birth was in that kingdom. He shared but a small portion of this virtue, being only able to discern transactions about the time of, and for the most part after, their happening. My good father, who delighted in The Pilgrim's Progress, and mountainous places, took shipping, with his wife, for Scotland, and inhabited in the Highlands, where myself MISCELLANEOUS. 33 was born ; and whether the soil, climate, or astral influences, of which are preserved divers prognostics, restored our ancestor's natural faculty of second sight, in a greater lustre to me, than it had shined in through several generations, I will not here discuss. But so it is, that I am possessed largely of it, and design, if you encourage the proposal, to take this opportunity of doing good with it, which I question not will be ac- cepted of in a grateful way by many of your honest readers, though the discovery of my extraction bodes me no deference from your great scholars and modern philosophers. This my father was long ago aware of; and, lest the name alone should hurt the fortunes of his children, he, in his shiftings from one country to another, wisely changed it. " Sir, I have only this further to say, how I may be useful to you, and as a reason for my not making my- self more known in the world. By virtue of this great gift of nature, second-sightedness, I do continually see numbers of men, women, and children, of all ranks, and what they are doing, while I am sitting in my closet ; which is too great a burden for the mind, and makes me also conceit, even against reason, that all this host of people can see and observe me, which strongly inclines me to solitude, and an obscure living ; and, on the other hand, it will be an ease to me to disburthen my thoughts and observations in the way proposed to you by, Sir, your friend and humble servant." I conceal this correspondent's name, in my care for his life and safety, and cannot but approve his pru- dence in choosing to live obscurely. I remember the fate of my poor monkey. He had an ill-natured trick of grinning and chattering at every thing he saw in petticoats. My ignorant country neighbours got a VOL. II. 5 34 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. notion, that pug snarled by instinct at every female who had lost her virginity. This was no sooner generally believed, than he was condemned to death ; by whom, I could never learn, but he was assassinated in the night, barbarously stabbed and mangled hi a thousand places, and left hanging dead on one of my gate-posts, where I found him the next morning. The Censor observing, that the itch of scribbling begins to spread exceedingly, and being carefully ten- der of the reputation of his country in point of wit and good sense, has determined to take all manner of writing, in verse or prose, that pretend to either, under his immediate cognizance ; and accordingly hereby prohibits the publishing any such for the future, till they have first passed his examination, and received his imprimatur ; for which he demands as a fee only sixpence per sheet. N. B. He nevertheless permits to be published all satirical remarks on the Busy-Body, the above prohi- bition notwithstanding, and without examination, or requiring the said fees; which indulgence the small wits in and about this city are advised gratefully to accept and acknowledge. The gentleman, who calls himself SHrronio, is di- rected, on receipt of this, to burn his great book of Crudities. P. S. In compassion to that young man, on account of the great pains he has taken, in consideration of the character I have just received of him, that he is really good-natured, and on condition he shows it to no foreigner or stranger of sense, I have thought fit to reprieve his said great book of Crudities from the flames, till further order. MISCELLANEOUS. 35 Noli me tangere. I HAD resolved, when I first commenced this design, on no account to enter into a public dispute with any man ; for I judged it would be equally unpleasant to me and my readers, to see this paper filled with con- tentious wrangling, answers, replies, &e. ; which is a way of writing that is endless, and, at the same time, seldom contains any thing that is either edifying or entertaining. Yet, when such a considerable man as Mr. finds himself concerned so warmly to accuse and condemn me, as he has done hi Keimer's last Instructor, I cannot forbear endeavouring to say some- thing in my own defence, from one of the worst of characters that could be given me by a man of worth. But as I have many things of more consequence to offer the public, I declare, that I will never, after this time, take notice of any accusations, not better sup- ported with truth and reason ; much less may every little scribbler, that shall attack me, expect an answer from the Busy-Body. The sum of the charge delivered against me, either directly or indirectly, in the said paper, is this. Not to mention the first weighty sentence concerning vanity and ill-nature, and the shrewd intimation, that I am with- out charity, and therefore can have no pretence to reli- gion, I am represented as guilty of defamation and scan- dal, the odiousness of which is apparent to every good man, and the practice of it opposite to Christianity, mo- rality, and common justice, and, in some cases, so far below all these, as to be inhuman ; as a blaster of repu- tations ; as attempting, by a pretence, to screen myself from the imputation of malice and prejudice ; as using a weapon, which the wiser and better part of mankind hold in abhorrence ; and as giving treatment, which 36 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. the wiser and better part of mankind dislike on the same principles, and for the same reason, as they do assassination, &.c. ; and all this is inferred and con- cluded from a character I have wrote in my Num- ber III. In order to examine the justice and truth of this heavy charge, let us recur to that character. And here we may be surprised to find what a trifle has raised this mighty clamor and complaint, this grievous accu- sation ! The worst thing said of the person, in what is cafled my gross description (be he who he will to whom my accuser has applied the character of Cretico), is, that he is a sour philosopher, crafty, but not wise. Few human characters can be drawn, that will not fit somebody, in so large a country as this ; but one would think, supposing I meant Cretico a real person, I had sufficiently manifested my impartiality, when I said, in that very paragraph, that Cretico is not without virtue ; that there are many good things in him, and many good actions reported of him ; which must be allowed, in all reason, very much to overbalance in his favor those worst words, sour-tempered and cunning. Nay, my very enemy and accuser must have been sensible of this, when he freely acknowledges, that he has been seriously considering, and cannot yet determine, which he would choose to be, the Cato or Cretico of that paper ; since my Cato is one of the best of characters. Thus much in my own vindication. As to the only reasons there given, why I ought not to continue drawing characters, viz. Why should any man's picture be published, which he never sat for ; or his good name taken from him, any more than his money or possessions, at the arbitrary will of another, &,c. ? I have but this to answer. The money or possessions, 1 presume, are nothing to the purpose, MISCELLANEOUS. 37 since no man can claim a right either to those or a good name, if he has acted so as to forfeit them. And are not the public the only judges what share of rep- utation they think proper to allow any man? Sup- posing I was capable, and had an inclination to draw all the good and bad characters in America, why should a good man be offended with me for drawing good characters ? And if I draw ill ones, can they fit any but those that deserve them? And ought any but such to be concerned that they have their deserts 1 I have as great an aversion and abhorrence for defa- mation and scandal as any man, and would with the utmost care avoid being guilty of such base things ; besides, I am very sensible and certain, that if I should make use of this paper to defame any person, my reputation would be sooner hurt by it than his, and the Busy-Body would quickly become detestable ; be- cause, in such a case, as is justly observed, the pleas- ure arising from a tale of wit and novelty soon dies away in generous and honest minds, and is followed with a secret grief to see their neighbours calum- niated. But if I myself was actually the worst man in the province, and any one should draw my true character, would it not be ridiculous in me to say he had defamed and scandalized me, unless he had added hi a matter of truth 1 If any thing is meant by asking, why any man's picture should be published, which he never sat for, it must be, that we should give no character with- out the owner's consent. If I discern the wolf dis- guised in harmless wool, and contriving the destruction of my neighbour's sheep, must I have his permission before I am allowed to discover and prevent him ? If I know a man to be a designing knave, must I ask his consent to bid my friends beware of him ? If so, then, VOL. II. D 50X4, 38 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. by the same rule, supposing the Busy-Body had really merited all his enemy had charged him with, his con- sent likewise ought to have been obtained before so terrible an accusation was published against him. I shall conclude with observing, that hi the last paragraph save one of the piece now examined, much ill-nature and some good sense are co-inhabitants (as he expresses it). The ill-nature appears in his endeav- ouring to discover satire where I intended no such thing, but quite the reverse ; the good sense is this, that drawing too good a character of any one is a re- fined manner of satire, that may be as injurious to him as the contrary, by bringing on an examination that undresses the person, and, in the haste of doing it, he may happen to be stript of what he really owns and deserves. As I am Censor, I might punish the first, but I forgive it. Yet I will not leave the latter un- rewarded ; but assure my adversary, that in considera- tion of the merit of those four lines, I am resolved to forbear injuring him on any account in that refined manner. I thank my neighbour P W for his kind letter. The lions complained of shall be muzzled. THE BUSY-BODY.— No. VIII. TUESDAY, MARCH 27, 1729. Quid non mortalia pectora cogis, Auri sacra fames ? VIRGIL. of the greatest pleasures an author can have, is certainly the hearing his works applauded. The MISCELLANEOUS. 39 hiding from the world our names, while we publish our thoughts, is so absolutely necessary to this self- gratification, that I hope my well-wishers will congrat- ulate me on my escape from the many diligent but fruitless inquiries, that have of late been made after me. Every man will own, that an author, as such, ought to be tried by the merit of his productions only ; but pride, party, and prejudice at this time run so very high, that experience shows we form our notions of a piece by the character of the author. Nay, there are some very humble politicians in and about this city, who will ask on which side the writer is, before they presume to give their opinion of the thing wrote. This ungenerous way of proceeding I was well aware of before I published my first speculation, and therefore concealed my name. And I appeal to the more gen- erous part of the world, if I have, since I appeared in the character of the Busy-Body, given an instance of my siding writh any party more than another, in the unhappy divisions of my country ; and I have, above all, this satisfaction in myself, that neither affection, aversion, nor interest has biassed me to use any par- tiality towards any man, or set of men ; but whatso- ever I find nonsensical, ridiculous, or immorally dis- honest, I have, and shall continue openly to attack, with the freedom of an honest man and a lover of my country. I profess I can hardly contain myself, or preserve the gravity and dignity, that should attend the cen- sorial office, when I hear the odd and unaccountable expositions, that are put upon some of my works, through the malicious ignorance of some, and the vain pride of more than ordinary penetration in others ; one instance of which many of my readers are acquainted with. A certain gentleman has taken a great deal of 40 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. pains to write a key to the letter in my Number IV., wherein he has ingeniously converted a gentle satire upon tedious and impertinent visitants, into a libel on some of the government. This I mention only as a specimen of the taste of the gentleman I am, forsooth, bound to please in my speculations ; not that I sup- pose my impartiality will ever be called in question on that account. Injustices of this nature I could com- plain of in many instances ; but I am at present di- verted by the reception of a letter, which, though it regards me only in my private capacity as an adept, yet I venture to publish it for the entertainment of my readers. To Censor Morum, Esq., Busy-Body General of the Province of Pennsylvania, and the Counties of New- castle, Kent, and Sussex upon Delaware. "HONORABLE SIR, "I judge by your lucubrations, that you are not only a lover of truth and equity, but a man of parts and learning and a master of science ; as such I honor you. Know, then, most profound Sir, that I have, from my youth up, been a very indefatigable student in and admirer of that divine science, astrology. I have read over Scot, Albertus Magnus, and Cornelius Agrippa, above three hundred times ; and was in hopes, by my knowledge and industry, to gain enough to have recompensed me for my money expended and time lost in the pursuit of this learning. You cannot be ignorant, Sir, (for }^our intimate second-sighted correspondent knows all things) that there are large sums of money hidden under ground in divers places about this town, and in many parts of the country ; but, alas, Sir, notwithstanding I have used all the MISCELLANEOUS. 41 means laid down in the immortal authors before mentioned, and when they failed, the ingenious Mr. P — d — 1, with his mercurial wand and magnet, I have still failed in my purpose. This therefore I send, to propose and desire an acquaintance with you ; and I do not doubt, notwithstanding my repeated ill fortune, but we may be exceedingly serviceable to each other in our discoveries ; and that if we use our united en- deavours, the time will come when the Busy-Body, his second- sighted correspondent, and your very hum- ble servant, will be three of the richest men in the province. And then, Sir, what may we not do? A word to the wise is sufficient. I conclude, with all demonstrable respect, yours and Urania's votary, " TITAN PLEIADES."* * Titan Pleiades was not the only man in the colonies, who had faith in the virtues of the Divining Rod. The following extract will show that there were persons of intelligence and high official rank, who could solve their doubts only by assenting to its marvellous properties. The passage is taken from a manuscript letter, written by Mr. Peter Oliver, (for many years Chief Justice of Massachusetts,) to the Reverend Jared Eliot, of Killingworth in Connecticut, a man much devoted to philosophical stud- ies, and an intimate friend and correspondent of Dr. Franklin. " For the present I desist from experiments in natural philosophy," said Chief Justice Oliver, " and perhaps shall not displease you by relating an experiment in what I call Preternatural Philosophy. It is by what is called the Virgvla Divinatoria, long since exploded. Two or three per- sons have lately been found in Middleborough, and, I suppose, may be found elsewhere, who, by holding a twig of a tree (with some prepared matters in it) in their hands, can find copper, silver, or gold, either in the mine or in substance. When I first heard the fact I disbelieved it, as doubtless you will take the same liberty on my relating it ; but at last I was induced to make the experiment critically, which exceeded what I had heard. The person holds the twig by its two branches in both hands, and grasps them close, with the upper part erect If any metal or mine is nigh, its fibres, though never so fast held in the hand, will twist till it points to the object ; and if the metal or mine is under, it will twist to a perpendicular situation. I have seen it point to a single dollar under ground, at sixty or seventy feet distance ; and to a quantity of silver at a mile distance ; and, what is more remarkable, when it is in motion to its VOL. II. 6 D * 42 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. In :he evening, after I had received this letter, I made a visit to my second-sighted friend, and com- municated to him the proposal. When he had read it, he assured me, that, to his certain knowledge, there is not at this time so much as one ounce of silver or gold hid under ground in any part of this province ; for that the late and present scarcity of money had obliged those, who were living, and knew where they had formerly hid any, to take it up, and use it in their own necessary affairs ; and as to all the rest, which was buried by pirates and others hi old times, who were never like to come for it, he himself had dug it all up and applied it to charitable uses; and this he de- sired me to publish for the general good. For, as he acquainted me, there are among us great numbers of honest artificers and laboring people, who, fed with a vain hope of growing suddenly rich, neglect their busi- ness, almost to the ruining of themselves and families, and voluntarily endure abundance of fatigue in a fruit- less search after imaginary hidden treasure. They wander through the woods and bushes by day, to dis- cover the marks and signs ; at midnight they repair to the hopeful spots with spades and pickaxes ; full of expectation, they labor violently, trembling at the same time in every joint, through fear of certain malicious demons, who are said to haunt and guard such places. At length a mighty hole is dug, and perhaps several cart-loads of earth thrown out; but, alas, no keg or iron pot is found ! No seaman's chest crammed with object, upon the person's closing his eyes, it will make a full stop, but, if the eyes are turned from the twig and open, it will continue its motion. It is owing to what I call the idiosyncracy of the person's body, who holds the twig, for I believe there is not one in five hundred in whose hands it will move. I am apt to think it will occasion as much speculation as elec- tricity, and I believe will tend to public benefit." — Middltborougli, March 31st, 1756. — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 43 Spanish pistoles, or weighty pieces of eight! Then they conclude, that, through some mistake in the pro- cedure, some rash word spoke, or some rule of art neglected, the guardian spirit had power to sink it deeper into the earth, and convey it out of their reach. Yet, when a man is once thus infatuated, he is so far from being discouraged by ill success, that he is rather animated to double his industry, and will try again and again in a hundred different places, in hopes at last of meeting with some lucky hit, that shall at once sufficiently reward him for all his expense of time and labor. This odd humor of digging for money, through a belief that much has been hid by pirates formerly frequenting the river, has for several years been mighty prevalent among us ; insomuch that you can hardly walk half a mile out of the town on any side, with- out observing several pits dug with that design, and perhaps some lately opened. Men, otherwise of very good sense, have been drawn into this practice through an overweening desire of sudden wealth, and an easy credulity of what they so earnestly wished might be true ; while the rational and almost certain methods of acquiring riches by industry and frugality are neg- lected or forgotten. There seems to be some peculiar charm in the conceit of finding money ; and if the sands of Schuylkill were so much mixed with small grains of gold, that a man might in a day's time, with care and application, get together to the value of half a crown, I make no question but we should find several people employed there, that can with ease earn five shillings a day at their proper trades. Many are the idle stories told of the private success of some people, by which others are encouraged to proceed ; and the astrologers, with whom the country 44 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. swarms at this time, are either in the belief of these things themselves, or find their advantage in persuading others to believe them ; for they are often consulted about the critical tunes for digging, the methods of laying the spirit, and the like whimseys, which renders them very necessary to, and very much caressed by, the poor deluded money-hunters. There is certainly something very bewitching in the pursuit after mines of gold and silver and other valu- able metals, and many have been ruined by it. A sea- captain of my acquaintance used to blame the English for envying Spain their mines of silver, and too much despising or overlooking the advantages of their own industry and manufactures. "For my part," says he, " I esteem the Banks of Newfoundland to be a more valuable possession than the mountains of Potosi ; and, when I have been there on the fishing account, have looked upon every cod pulled up into the vessel as a certain quantity of silver ore, which required only carry- ing to the next Spanish port to be coined into pieces of eight ; not to mention the national profit of fitting out and employing such a number of ships and sea- men." Let honest Peter Buckram, who has long without success been a searcher after hidden money, reflect on this, and be reclaimed from that unaccountable folly. Let him consider, that every stitch he takes, when he is on his shopboard, is picking up part of a grain of gold, that will in a few days' time amount to a pistole ; and let Faber think tjie same of every nail he drives, or every stroke with his plane. Such thoughts may make them industrious, and, in consequence, in time they may be wealthy. But how absurd is it to neglect a certain profit for such a ridiculous whimsey ; to spend whole days at the George, in company with an idle MISCELLANEOUS. 45 pretender to astrology, contriving schemes to discover what was never hidden, and forgetful how carelessly business is managed at home in their absence ; to leave their wives and a warm bed at midnight (no matter if it rain, hail, snow, or blow a hurricane, provided that be the critical hour), and fatigue themselves with the violent exercise of digging for what they shall never find, and perhaps getting a cold that may cost their lives, or at least disordering themselves so as to be fit for no business beside for some days after. Surely this is nothing less than the most egregious folly and madness. I shall conclude with the words of my discreet friend Agricola, of Chester county, when he gave his son a good plantation. "My son," said he, "I give thee now a valuable parcel of land ; I assure thee I have found a considerable quantity of gold by digging there ; thee mayst do the same ; but thee must care- fully observe this, Never to dig more than plough-deep." 46 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. DIALOGUE BETWEEN PHILOCLES AND HORATIO, MEET- ING ACCIDENTALLY IN THE FIELDS, CONCERNING VIR- TUE AND PLEASURE. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, JUNE 23, 1730. Philocles. My friend Horatio! I am very glad to see you. Prithee, how came such a man as you alone ? And musing too 1 What misfortune in your pleasures has sent you to philosophy for relief? Horatio. You guess very right, my dear Philocles ; we pleasure-hunters are never without them ; and yet, so enchanting is the game, we cannot quit the chase. How calm and undisturbed is your life ! How free from present embarrassments and future cares ! I know you love me, and look with compassion upon my con- duct ; show me then the path which leads up to that constant and invariable good, which I have heard you so beautifully describe, and which you seem so fully to possess. Phil. There are few men in the world I value more than you, Horatio ; for, amidst all your foibles and painful pursuits of pleasure, I have oft observed in you an honest heart, and a mind strongly bent towards virtue. I wish, from my soul, I could assist you in acting vsteadily the part of a reasonable creature ; for, if you would not think it a paradox, I should tell you I love you better than you do yourself. Hor. A paradox indeed ! Better than I do myself ! When I love my dear self so well, that I love every thing else for my own sake. Phil. He only loves himself well, who rightly and judiciously loves himself. Hor. What do you mean by that, Philocles ? You MISCELLANEOUS. 47 men of reason and virtue are always dealing in mys- teries, though you laugh at them when the church makes them. I think he loves himself very well and very judiciously too, as you call it, who allows himself to do whatever he pleases. Phil. What, though it be to the ruin and destruction of that very self which he loves so well 1 That man alone loves himself rightly, who procures the greatest possible good to himself through the whole of his ex- istence; and so pursues pleasure as not to give for it more than it is worth. HOT. That depends all upon opinion. Who shall judge what the pleasure is worth ? Suppose a pleasing form of the fair kind strikes me so much, that I can enjoy nothing without the enjoyment of that one ob- ject ; or, that pleasure in general is so favorite a mis- tress, that I \vill take her as men do their wives, for better, for worse; minding no consequences, nor re- garding what is to come. Why should I not do it ? Phil. Suppose, Horatio, that a friend of yours entered into the world about two-and-twenty, with a healthful vigorous body, and a fair plentiful estate of about five hundred pounds a year ; and yet, before he had reach- ed thirty, should, by following his own pleasures, and not as you duly regarding consequences, have run out of his estate, and disabled his body to that degree, that he had neither the means nor capacity of enjoy- ment left, nor any thing else to do but wisely shoot himself through the head to be at rest; what would you say to this unfortunate man's conduct? Is it wrong by opinion or fancy only 1 Or is there really a right and wrong in the case? Is not one opinion of life and action juster than another? Or one sort of conduct preferable to another? Or does that miserable son of pleasure appear as reasonable and lovely a being in 48 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. your eyes, as a man who, by prudently and rightly gratifying his natural passions, had preserved his body in full health, and his estate entire, and enjoyed both to a good old age, and then died with a thankful heart for the good things he had received, and with an entire submission to the will of Him who first called him into being ? Say, Horatio, are these men equally wise and happy ? And is every thing to be measured by mere fancy and opinion, without considering whether that fancy or opinion be right ? Har. Hardly so neither, I think; yet sure the wise and good Author of nature could never make us to plague us. He could never give us passions, on pur- pose to subdue and conquer them; nor produce this self of mine, or any other self, only that it may be denied; for that is denying the works of the great Creator himself. Self-denial, then, which is what I suppose you mean by prudence, seems to me not only absurd, but very dishonorable to that Supreme Wisdom and Goodness, which is supposed to make so ridiculous and contradictory a creature, that must be always fighting with himself in order to be at rest, and under- go voluntary hardships in order to be happy. Are we created sick, only to be commanded to be sound ? Are we born under one law, our passions, and yet bound to another, that of reason ? Answer me, Philocles, for I am warmly concerned for the honor of Nature, the mother of us all. Phil. I find, Horatio, my two characters have af- frighted you ; so that you decline the trial of what is good, by reason ; and had rather make a bold attack upon Providence, the usual way of you gentlemen of fashion, who, when by living in defiance of the eternal rules of reason, you have plunged yourselves into a thousand difficulties, endeavour to make yourselves MISCELLANEOUS. 49 easy by throwing the burden upon Nature. You are, Horatio, in a very miserable condition indeed ; for you say you cannot be happy if you control your passions ; and you feel yourself miserable by an unrestrained gra- tification of them ; so that here is evil, irremediable evil, either way. Hor. That is very true ; at least it appears so to me. Pray what have you to say, Philocles, in honor of Nature or Providence ? Methinks I am in pain for her. How do you rescue her, poor lady ? Phil. This, my dear Horatio, I have to say; that what you find fault with and clamor against, as the most terrible evil in the world, self-denial, is really the greatest good, and the highest self-gratification. If, in- deed, you use the word in the sense of some weak moralists, and much weaker divines, you will have just reason to laugh at it ; but if you take it, as under- stood by philosophers and men of sense, you will pres- ently see 'her charms, and fly to her embraces, not- withstanding her demure looks, as absolutely necessary to produce even your own darling sole good, pleasure ; for self-denial is never a duty, or a reasonable action, but as it is a natural means of procuring more pleasure than you can taste without it ; so that this grave, saint- like guide to happiness, as rough and dreadful as she has been made to appear, is in truth the kindest and most beautiful mistress in the world. Hor. Prithee, Philocles, do not wrap yourself in allegory and metaphor. Why do you tease me thus ? I long to be satisfied, what is this philosophical self- denial, the necessity and reason of it ; I am impatient, and all on fire. Explain, therefore, in your beautiful, natural, easy way of reasoning, what I am to under- stand by this grave lady of yours, with so forbidding, downcast looks, and yet so absolutely necessary to VOL. II. 7 E 50 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. my pleasures. I stand to embrace her, for, you know, pleasure I court under all shapes and forms. Phil. Attend, then, and you will see. the reason of this philosophical self-denial. There can be no abso- lute perfection in any creature ; because every creature is derived from something of a superior existence, and dependent on that source for its own existence. No created being can be all-wise, all-good, and all-power- ful, because his powers and capacities are finite and limited ; consequently whatever is created must, in its own nature, be subject to error, irregularity, excess, and imperfectness. All intelligent, rational agents find hi themselves a power of judging what kind of beings they are, what actions are proper to preserve them, ' and what consequences will generally attend them, what pleasures they are for, and to what degree their natures are capable of receiving them. All we have to do then, Horatio, is to consider, when we are sur- prised with a new object, and passionately desire to enjoy it, whether the gratifying that passion be con- sistent with the gratifying other passions and appetites, equally if not more necessary to us ; and whether it consists with our happiness to-morrow, next week, or next year ; for, as we all wish to live, we are obliged by reason to take as much care for our future, as our present happiness, and not build one upon the ruins of the other. But if, through the strength and power of a present passion, and through want of attending to consequences, we have erred and exceeded the bounds which nature and reason have set us ; we are then, for our own sakes, to refrain, or deny ourselves a present momentary pleasure for a future, constant, and durable one. So that this philosophical self-denial is only refusing to do an action which you strongly desire, because it is inconsistent with health, convenience, or MISCELLANEOUS. 51 circumstances in the world ; or, in other words, because it would cost you more than it was worth. You would lose by it, as a man of pleasure. Thus you see, Ho- ratio, that self-denial is not only the most reasonable, but the most pleasant thing in the world. Hor. We are just coming into town, so that we cannot pursue this argument any farther at present; you have said a great deal for nature, Providence, and reason; happy are they who can follow such divine guides. Phil. Horatio, good night ; I wish you wise in your pleasures. Hor. I wish, Philocles, I could be as wise in my pleasures as you are pleasantly wise ; your wisdom is agreeable, your virtue is amiable, and your philosophy the highest luxury. Adieu, thou enchanting reasoner ! A SECOND DIALOGUE BETWEEN PHILOCLES AND HORA- TIO, CONCERNING VIRTUE AND PLEASURE. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, JULY 9, 1730. Philocles. Dear Horatio, where hast thou been these three or four months'? What new adventures have you fallen upon since I met you in these delightful, all-inspiring fields, and wondered how such a pleasure- hunter as you could bear being alone 1 Horatio. O Philocles, thou best of friends, because a friend to reason and virtue, I am very glad to see you. Do not you remember, I told you then, that some misfortunes in my pleasures had sent me to philosophy for relief? But now I do assure you I can, without a sigh, leave other pleasures for those of phi- losophy ; I can hear the word reason mentioned, and 52 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. virtue praised, without laughing. Do not I bid fair for conversion, think you ? Phil. Very fair, Horatio; for I remember the time when reason, virtue, and pleasure, were the same thing with you; when you counted nothing good but what pleased, nor any thing reasonable but what you gained by ; when you made a jest of mind, and the pleasures of reflection, and elegantly placed your sole happiness, like the rest of the animal creation, in the gratification of sense. Hor. I did so; but in our last conversation, when walking upon the brow of this hill, and looking down on that broad, rapid river, and yon widely-extended, beautifully- varied plain, you taught me another doc- trine ; you showed me, that self-denial, which above all things I abhorred, was really the greatest good, and the highest self-gratification, and absolutely necessary to produce even my own darling sole good, pleasure. Phil. True; I told you that self-denial was never a duty, but when it was a natural means of procuring more pleasure than we could taste without it ; that as we all strongly desire to live, and to live only to enjoy, we should take as much care about our future as our present happiness, and not build one upon the ruins of the other; that we should look to the end, and regard consequences ; and if, through want of attention we had erred, and exceeded the bounds which nature had set us, we were then obliged, for our own sakes, to refrain or deny ourselves a present momentary pleasure for a future, constant, and durable good. Hor. You have shown, Philocles, that self-denial, which weak or interested men have rendered the most forbidding, is really the most delightful and amiable, the most reasonable and pleasant thing in the world. In a word, if I understand you aright, self-denial is, MISCELLANEOUS. 53 in truth, self-recognising, self-acknowledging, or self- owning. But now, my friend, you are to perform another promise, and show me the path that leads up to that constant, durable, and invariable good, which I have heard you so beautifully describe, and which you seem so fully to possess. Is not this good of yours a mere chimera ? Can any thing be constant in a world which is eternally changing, and which appears to exist by an everlasting revolution of one thing into another, and where every thing without us, and every thing within us, is in perpetual motion ? What is this con- stant, durable good, then, of yours ? Prithee, satisfy my soul, for I am all on fire, and impatient to enjoy her. Produce this eternal blooming goddess with never-fading charms, and see whether I will not embrace her with as much eagerness and rapture as you. Phil. You seem enthusiastically warm, Horatio; I will wrait till you are cool enough to attend to the sober, dispassionate voice of reason. Hor. You mistake me, my dear Philocles ; my warmth is not so great as to run away with my reason ; it is only just raised enough to open my faculties, and fit them to receive those eternal truths, and that durable good, which you so triumphantly boasted of. Begin, then ; I am prepared. Phil. I will. I believe, Horatio, with all your skep- ticism about you, you will allow that good to be con- stant which is never absent from you, and that to be durable which never ends but with your being. Hor. Yes, go on. Phil. That can never be the good of a creature, which when present, the creature may be miserable, and when absent, is certainly so. Hor. I think not ; but pray explain what you mean ; 54 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. for I am not much used to this abstract way of rea- soning. Phil. I mean all the pleasures of sense. The good of man cannot consist in the mere pleasures of sense ; because, when any one of those objects which you love is absent, or cannot be come at, }ou are certainly miserable; and if the faculty be impaired, though the object be present, you cannot enjoy it. So that this sensual good depends upon a thousand things without and within you, and all out of your power. Can this then be the good of man? Say, Horatio, what think you, is not this a checkered, fleeting, fantastical good ? Can that, in any propriety of speech, be called the good of man which, even while he is tasting, he may be miserable ; and which when he cannot taste, he is necessarily so ? Can that be our good, which costs us a great deal of pains to obtain, which cloys in possess- ing, for which we must wait the return of appetite before we can enjoy again? Or is that our good, which we can come at without difficulty, which is heightened by possession, which never ends in weari- ness and disappointment, and which, the more we enjoy, the better qualified we are to enjoy on ? HOT. The latter, I think ; but why do you torment me thus ? Philocles, show me this good immediately. Phil. I have showed you what it is not; it is not sensual, but it is rational and moral good. It is doing all the good we can to others, by acts of humanity, friendship, generosity, and benevolence; this is that constant and durable good, which will afford content- ment and satisfaction always alike, without variation or diminution. I speak to your experience now, Ho- ratio. Did you ever find yourself weary of relieving the miserable ? or of raising the distressed into life or hap- piness ? Or rather, do not you find the pleasure grow MISCELLANEOUS. 55 upon you by repetition, and that it is greater in the reflection than in the act itself? Is there a pleasure upon earth to be compared with that whictf arises from the sense of making others happy ? Can this pleasure ever be absent, or ever end but with your being ? Does it not always accompany you ? Doth not it lie down and rise with you, live as long as you live, give you consolation in the hour of death, and remain with you when all other things are going to forsake you, or you them? Hor. How glowingly you paint, Philocles. Methinks Horatio is amongst the enthusiasts. I feel the passion ; I am enchantingly convinced, but I do not know why ; overborne by something stronger than reason. Sure some divinity speaks within me. But prithee, Philo- cles, give me the cause, why this rational and moral good so infinitely excels the mere natural or sensual. Phil. I think, Horatio, that I have clearly shown you the difference between merely natural or sensual good, and rational or moral good. Natural or sensual pleasure continues no longer than the action itself; but this divine or moral pleasure continues when the action is over, and swells and grows upon your hand by re- flection. The one is inconstant, unsatisfying, of short duration, and attended with numberless ills ; the other is constant, yields full satisfaction, is durable, and no evils preceding, accompanying, or following it. But if you inquire farther into the cause of this difference, and would know why the moral pleasures are greater than the sensual, perhaps the reason is the same as in all other creatures, that their happiness or chief good consists in acting up to their chief faculty, or that faculty which distinguishes them from all creatures of a different species. The chief faculty in man is his reason, and consequently his chief good, or that which 56 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. may be justly called his good, consists not merely in action, but in reasonable action. By reasonable ac- tions, we understand those actions which are preserv- ative of the human kind, and naturally tend to produce real and unmixed happiness; and these actions, by way of distinction, we call actions morally good. Hor. You speak very clearly, Philocles; but, that no difficulty may remain on my mind, pray tell me what is the real difference between natural good and evil, and moral good and evil? for I know several people who use the terms without ideas. Phil. That may be. The difference lies only in this ; that natural good and evil are pleasure and pain ; moral good and evil are pleasure or pain produced with intention and design; for it is the intention only that makes the agent morally good or bad. Hor. But may not a man, with a very good inten- tion, do an evil action ? Phil. Yes ; but then he errs in his judgment, though his design be good. If his error is 'inevitable, or such as, all things considered, he could not help, he is in- culpable ; but, if it arose through want of diligence in forming his judgment about the nature of human ac- tions, he is immoral and culpable. Hor. I find, then, that in order to please ourselves rightly, or to do good to others morally, we should take great care of our opinions. Phil. Nothing concerns you more ; for, as the happi- ness or real good of men consists in right action, and right action cannot be produced without right opinion, it behoves us, above all things in this world, to take care that our own opinions of things be according to the nature of things. The foundation of all virtue and happiness is thinking rightly. He who sees an action is right, that is, naturally tending to good, and does it MISCELLANEOUS. 57 because of that tendency, he only is a moral man ; and he alone is capable of that constant, durable, and in- variable good, which has been the subject of this con- versation. Hor. How, my dear philosophical guide, shall I be able to know, and determine certainly, what is right and wrong in life ? Phil. As easily as you distinguish a circle from a square, or light from darkness. Look, Horatio, into the sacred book of nature ; read your own nature, and view the relation which other men stand in to you, and you to them, and you will immediately see what con- stitutes human happiness, and consequently what is right. Hor. We are just coming into town, and can say no more at present. You are my good genius, Philo- cles. You have showed me what is good. You have redeemed me from the slavery and misery of folly and vice, and made me a free and happy being. Phil. Then I am the happiest man hi the world. Be you steady, Horatio. Never depart from reason and virtue. Hor. Sooner will I lose my existence. Good night, Philocles. Phil. Adieu, dear Horatio ! PUBLIC MEN. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, SEPT. 3, 1730. THE following is a dialogue between Socrates, the great Athenian philosopher, and one Glaucon, a private man, of mean abilities, but ambitious of being chosen a senator, and of governing the republic; wherein VOL. II. 8 58 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Socrates in a pleasant manner convinces him of his incapacity for public affairs, by making him sensible of his ignorance of the interests of his country in their several branches, and entirely dissuades him from any attempt of that nature. There is also added, at the end, part of another dialogue the same Socrates had with one Charmidas, a worthy man, but too modest, wherein he endeavours to persuade him to put himself forward and undertake public business, as being very capable of it. The whole is taken from Xenophon's Memorable Things of Socrates, Book Third. "A certain man, whose name was Glaucon, the son of Ariston, had so fixed it in his mind to govern the republic, that he frequently presented himself before the people to discourse of affairs of state, though all the world laughed at him for it; nor was it in the power of his relations or friends to dissuade him from that design. But Socrates had a kindness for him, on account of Plato, his brother, and he only it was who made him change his resolution. He met him, and accosted him in so winning a manner, that he first obliged him to hearken to his discourse. He began with him thus ; " ' You have a mind then to govern the republic 1 ' " ' I have so,' answered Glaucon. " ' You cannot,' replied Socrates, ' have a more noble design; for if you can accomplish it so as to be- come absolute, you will be able to serve your friends, you will raise your family, you will extend the bounds of your country, you will be known, not only in Athens, but through all Greece, and perhaps your renown will fly even to the barbarous nations, as did that of The- mistocles. In short, wherever you come, you will have the respect and admiration of all the world.' "These words soothed Glaucon, and won him to MISCELLANEOUS. 59 give ear to Socrates, who went on in this manner. ' But it is certain, that if you desire to be honored, you must be useful to the state.' " * Certainly,' said Glaucon. " ' And in the name of all the gods,' replied Socrates, 'tell me, what is the first service that you intend to render the state ? ' "Glaucon was considering what to answer, when Socrates continued. * If you design to make the for- tune of one of your friends, you will endeavour to make him rich, and thus perhaps you will make it your business to enrich the republic?' " ' I would,' answered Glaucon. " Socrates replied ; * Would not the way to enrich the republic be to increase its revenue ? ' " ' It is very likely it would,' answered Glaucon. " ' Tell me then, in what consists the revenue of the state, and to how much it may amount? I presume you have particularly studied this matter, to the end that, if any thing should be lost on one hand, you might know where to make it good on another, and that, if a fund should fail on a sudden, you might immediately be able to settle another in its place ? ' " * I protest,' answered Glaucon, ' I have never thought of this.' " ' Tell me at least the expenses of the republic, for no doubt you intend to retrench the superfluous ? ' " * I never thought of this either,' said Glaucon. " ' You were best then to put off to another time your design of enriching the republic, which you can never be able to do while you are ignorant both of its ex- penses and revenue.' " * There is another way to enrich a state,' said Glau- con, * of which you take no notice, and that is, by the ruin [spoils] of its enemies.' 60 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. "'You are in the right/ answered Socrates; 'but to this end it is necessary to be stronger than they, otherwise we shall run the hazard of losing what we have. He, therefore, who talks of undertaking a war, ought to know the strength on both sides, to the end that if his party be the stronger he may boldly advise for war, and that if it be the weaker he may dissuade the people from engaging themselves in so dangerous an enterprise.' "'All this is true.' "'Tell me, then,' continued Socrates, 'how strong our forces are by sea and land, and how strong are our enemies.' " ' Indeed,' said Glaucon, ' I cannot tell you on a sudden.' " ' If you have a list of them in writing, pray show it me ; I should be glad to hear it read.' " ' I have it not yet.' " ' I see, then,' said Socrates, ' that we shall not en- gage in war so soon ; for the greatness of the under- taking will hinder you from maturely weighing all the consequences of it in the beginning of your govern- ment. But,' continued he, 'you have thought of the defence of the country ; you know what garrisons are necessary, and what are not ; you know what number of troops is sufficient in one, and not sufficient in another ; you will cause the necessary garrisons to be reinforced, and will disband those that are useless ? ' " ' I should be of opinion,' said Glaucon, ' to leave none of them on foot, because they ruin a country on pretence of defending it.' " ' But,' Socrates objected, ' if all the garrisons were taken away, there would be nothing to hinder the first comer from carrying off what he pleased ; but how come you to know that the garrisons behave themselves MISCELLANEOUS. 61 so ill? Have you been upon the place? Have you seen them ? ' " < Not at all ; but I suspect it to be so.' " ' When therefore we are certain of it,' said Socrates, ' and can speak upon better grounds than simple con- jectures, we will propose this advice to the senate.' " ' It may be well to do so,' said Glaucon. " « It comes into my mind, too,' continued Socrates, 'that you have never been at the mines of silver, to examine why they bring not in so much now as they,, did formerly.' " ' You say true ; I have never been there.' " ' Indeed they say the place is very unhealthy, and that may excuse you.' " ' You rally me now,' said Glaucon. " Socrates added, ' But I believe you have at least observed how much corn our lands produce, how long it will serve to supply our city, and how much more we shall want for the whole year; to the end you may not be surprised with a scarcity of bread, but may give timely orders for the necessary provisions.' " ' There is a deal to do,' said Glaucon, ' if we must take care of all these things.' " ( There is so,' replied Socrates ; * and it is even im- possible to manage our own families well, unless we know all that is wanting, and take care to provide it. As you see, therefore, that our city is composed of above ten thousand families, and it being a difficult task to watch over them all at once, why did you not first try to retrieve your uncle's affairs, which are running to decay? and after having given that proof of your in- dustry, you might have taken a greater trust upon you. But now, when you find yourself incapable of aiding a private man, how can you think of behaving yourself so as to be useful to a whole people ? Ought a man, VOL. II. F 62 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. who has not strength enough to carry a hundred pound weight, to undertake to carry a heavier burden ? ' " ' I would have done good service to my uncle,' said Glaucon, * if he would have taken my advice.' "'How,' replied Socrates, 'have you not hitherto been able to govern the mind of your uncle, and do you now believe yourself able to govern the minds of all the Athenians, and his among the rest? Take heed, my dear Glaucon, take heed lest too great a desire of power should render you despised ; consider how dan- gerous it is to speak and entertain ourselves concerning things we do not understand ; what a figure do those forward and rash people make in the world who do so ; and judge yourself, whether they acquire more esteem than blame, whether they are more admired than contemned. Think, on the contrary, with how much more honor a man is regarded, who understands perfectly what he says and what he does, and then you will confess, that renown and applause have always been the recompense of true merit, and shame the reward of ignorance and temerity. If, therefore, you would be honored, endeavour to be a man of true merit; and, if you enter upon the government of the republic with a mind more sagacious than usual, I shall not wonder if you succeed in all your designs.' " Thus Socrates put a stop to the disorderly ambition of this man ; but, on an occasion quite contrary, he in the following manner exhorted Charmidas to take an employment. " He was a man of sense, and more deserving than most others in the same post; but, as he was of a modest disposition, he constantly declined, and made great difficulties of engaging himself in public business. Socrates therefore addressed himself to him in this manner ; MISCELLANEOUS. 63 " ' If you knew any man that could gain the prizes in the public games, and by that means render himself illustrious, and acquire glory to his country, what would you say of him if he refused to offer himself to the combat ? ' " ' I would say,' answered Charmidas, ' that he was a mean-spirited, effeminate fellow.' " ' And if a man were capable of governing a republic, of increasing its power by his advice, and of raising himself by this means to a high degree of honor, would you not brand him likewise with meanness of soul, if he would not present himself to be employed ? ' " ' Perhaps I might,' said Charmidas ; * but why do you ask me this question?' Socrates replied, 'Be- cause you are capable of managing the affairs of the republic ; and nevertheless you avoid doing so, though hi quality of a citizen you are obliged to take care of the commonwealth. Be no longer then thus negli- gent in this matter; consider your abilities and your duty with more attention, and let not slip the occasions of serving the republic, and of rendering it, if possible, more flourishing than it is. This will be a blessing, whose influence will descend not only on the other citizens, but on your best friends and yourself.' " SELF-DENIAL NOT THE ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, FEB. 18, 1734. IT is commonly asserted, that without self-denial there is no virtue, and that the greater the self-denial the greater the virtue. If it were said, that he who cannot deny himself any thing he inclines to, though he knows it will be to his 64 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. hurt, has not the virtue of resolution or fortitude, it would be intelligible enough ; but, as it stands, it seems obscure or erroneous. Let us consider some of the virtues singly. If a man has no inclination to wrong people in his dealings, if he feels no temptation to it, and therefore never does it, can it be said that he is not a just man ? If he is a just man, has he not the virtue of justice ? If to a certain man idle diversions have nothing in them that is tempting, and therefore he never relaxes his application to business for their sake, is he not an industrious man? Or has he not the virtue of industry ? I might in like manner instance in all the rest of the virtues; but, to make the thing short, as it is certain that the more we strive against the temptation to any vice, and practise the contrary virtue, the weaker will that temptation be, and the stronger will be that habit, till at length the temptation has no force, or entirely vanishes; does it follow from thence, that in our endeavours to overcome vice we grow continually less and less virtuous, till at length we have no virtue at all? I If self-denial be the essence of virtue, then it follows that the man, who is naturally temperate, just, &c., is not virtuous ; but that in order to be virtuous, he must, in spite of his natural inclination, wrong his neighbours, ind eat, and drink, &,c., to excess. But perhaps it may be said, that by the word virtue in the above assertion, is meant merit ; and so it should stand thus ; Without self-denial there is no merit, and the greater the self-denial the greater the merit. The self-denial here meant, must be when our in- clinations are towards vice, or else it would still be nonsense. MISCELLANEOUS. 65 By merit is understood desert; and, when we say a man merits, we mean that he deserves praise or reward. We do not pretend to merit any thing of God, for he is above our services ; and the benefits he confers on us are the effects of his goodness and bounty. / All our merit, then, is with regard to one another, " and from one to another. Taking, then, the assertion as it last stands, If a man does me a service from a natural benevolent inclination, does he deserve less of me than another, who does me the like kindness against his inclination ? If I have two journeymen, one naturally industrious, the other idle, but both perform a day's work equally good, ought I to give the latter the most wages ? Indeed lazy workmen are commonly observed to be more extravagant in their demands than the in- dustrious ; for, if they have not more for their work, they cannot live as well. But though it be true to a proverb, that lazy folks take the most pains, does it follow that they deserve the most money ? If you were to employ servants in affairs of trust, would you not bid more for one you knew was naturally honest, than for one naturally roguish, but who has lately acted honestly ? For currents whose natural channel is dammed up, till the new course is by time worn sufficiently deep, and become natural, are apt to break their banks. If one servant is more valuable than another, has he not more merit than the other? and yet this is not on account of superior self-denial. Is a patriot not praiseworthy, if public spirit is natural to him? Is a pacing-horse less valuable for being a natural v/ pacer ? VOL. II. F* 66 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Nor, in my opinion, has any man less merit for having in general natural virtuous inclinations. The truth is, that temperance, justice, charity, &c. are virtues, whether practised with, or against our in- clinations, and the man, who practises them, merits our love and esteem; and self-denial is neither good nor bad, but as it is applied. He that denies a vicious inclination, is virtuous in proportion to his resolution ; but the most perfect virtue is above all temptation; such as the virtue of the saints in heaven; and he, who does a foolish, indecent, or wicked thing, merely because it is contrary to his inclination (like some mad enthusiasts I have read of, who ran about naked, under the notion of taking up the cross), is not practising the reasonable science of virtue, but is a lunatic. • . ON THE USEFULNESS OF THE MATHEMATICS. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, OCT. 30, 1735. MATHEMATICS originally signifies any kind of dis- cipline or learning, but now it is taken for that science, which teaches or contemplates whatever is capable of being numbered or measured. That part of the mathematics, which relates to numbers only, is called arithmetic ; and that, which is concerned about measure in general, whether length, breadth, motion, force, £,c., is called geometry. As to the usefulness of arithmetic, it is well known, that no business, commerce, trade, or employment whatsoever, even from the merchant to the shopkeeper, &c., can be managed and carried on without the assist- ance of numbers ; for by these the trader computes the value of all sorts of goods that he dealeth in, does his MISCELLANEOUS. 67 business with ease and certainty, and informs himself how matters stand at any time with respect to men, money, or merchandise, to profit and loss, whether he goes forward or backward, grows richer or poorer. Neither is this science only useful to the merchant, but is reckoned the primum mobile (or first mover) of all mundane affairs in general, and is useful for all sorts and degrees of men, from the highest to the lowest. As to the usefulness of geometry, it is as certain that no curious art, or mechanic work, can either be invented, improved, or performed, without its assisting principles. It is owing to this, that astronomers are put into a way of making their observations, coming at the know- ledge of the extent of the heavens, the duration of time, the motions, magnitudes, and distances of the heavenly bodies, their situations, positions, risings, settings, aspects, and eclipses; also the measure of seasons, of years, and of ages. It is by the assistance of this science, that geogra- phers present to our view at once the magnitude and form of the whole earth, the vast extent of the seas, the divisions of empires, kingdoms, and provinces. It is by the help of geometry the ingenious mariner is instructed how to guide a ship through the vast ocean, from one part of the earth to another, the nearest and safest way, and in the shortest time. By help of this science the architects take their just measures for the structure of buildings, as private houses, churches, palaces, ships, fortifications, &,c. By its help engineers conduct all their works, take the situation and plan of towns, forts, and castles, measure their distances from one another, and carry their measures into places that are only accessible to the eye. 68 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. From hence also is deduced that admirable art of drawing sun-dials on any plane howsoever situate, and for any part of the world, to point out the exact time of the day, sun's declination, altitude, amplitude, azi- muth, and other astronomical matters. By geometry the surveyor is directed how to draw a map of any country, to divide his lands, and to lay down and plot any piece of ground, and thereby discover the area in acres, rods, and perches ; the ganger is instructed how to find the capacities or solid contents of all kinds of vessels, in barrels, gallons, bushels, &c. ; and the measurer is furnished with rules for finding the areas and contents of superficies and solids, and casting up all manner of workmanship. All these, and many more useful arts, too many to be enumerated here, wholly depend upon the aforesaid sciences, viz. arithmetic and geometry. This science is descended from the infancy of the world, the inventors of which were the first propa- gators of human kind, as Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, and divers others. There has not been any science so much esteemed and honored as this of the mathematics, nor with so much industry and vigilance become the care of great men, and labored in by the potentates of the world, viz. emperors, kings, princes, &,c. Mathematical demonstrations are a logic of as much or more use, than that commonly learned at schools, serving to a just formation of the mind, enlarging its capacity, and strengthening it so as to render the same capable of exact reasoning, and discerning truth from falsehood in all occurrences, even subjects not mathe- matical. For which reason it is said, the Egyptians, Persians, and Lacedaemonians seldom elected any new kings, but such as had some knowledge in the mathe- MISCELLANEOUS. 69 matics, imagining those, who had not, men of imperfect judgments, and unfit to rule and govern. Though Plato's censure, that those who did not understand the 117th proposition of the 13th book of Euclid's Elements, ought not to be ranked amongst rational creatures, was unreasonable and unjust; yet to give a man the character of universal learning, who is destitute of a competent knowledge in the mathe- matics, is no less so. The usefulness of some particular parts of the mathe- matics, in the common affairs of human life, has ren- dered some knowledge of them very necessary to a great part of mankind, and very convenient to all the rest, that are any way conversant beyond the limits of their own particular callings. Those whom necessity has obliged to get their bread by manual industry, where some degree of art is re- quired to go along with it, and who have had some insight into these studies, have very often found ad- vantages from them sufficient to reward the pains they were at hi acquiring them. And whatever may have been imputed to some other studies, under the notion of insignificancy and loss of time, yet these, I believe, never caused repentance in any, except it was for their remissness in the prosecution of them. Philosophers do generally affirm that human know- ledge to be most excellent, which is conversant amongst the most excellent things. What science then can there be more noble, more excellent, more useful for men, more admirably high and demonstrative, than this of the mathematics ? I shall conclude with what Plato says, in the seventh book of his Republic, with regard to the excellence, and usefulness of geometry, being to this purpose ; " Dear friend ; you see then that mathematics are 70 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. necessary, because, by the exactness of the method, we get a habit of using our minds to the best advan- tage. And it is remarkable, that, all men being capable by nature to reason and understand the sciences, the less acute, by studying this, though useless to them in every other respect, will gain this advantage, that their minds will be improved in reasoning aright; for no study employs it more, nor makes it susceptible of attention so much; and those, who we find have a mind worth cultivating, ought to apply themselves to this study." ON TRUE HAPPINESS. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, NOV. 20, 1735. THE desire of happiness in general is so natural to us, that all the world are in pursuit of it ; all have this one end hi view, though they take such different methods to attain it, and are so much divided in their notions of it. Evil, as evil, can never be chosen ; and, though evil is often the effect of our own choice, yet we never desire it, but under the appearance of an imaginary good. Many things we indulge ourselves in may be con- sidered by us as evils, and yet be desirable ; but then they are only considered as evils in their effects and consequences, not as evils at present, and attended wiih immediate misery. ^Reason represents things to us, not only as they are at present, but as they are in their whole nature and tendency; passion only regards them in their former light. J When this governs us, we are regardless MISCELLANEOUS. 71 of the future, and are only affected with the present. It is impossible ever to enjoy ourselves rightly, if our conduct be not such as to preserve the harmony and order of our faculties, and the original frame and constitution of our minds ; all true happiness^ jis all that is truly beautiful, can only result from order. Whilst there is a conflict betwixt the two principles of passion and reason, we must be miserable in pro- portion to the struggle; and when the victory is gamed, and reason so far subdued as seldom to trouble us with its remonstrances, the happiness we have then is not the happiness of our rational nature, but the happiness only of the inferior and sensual part of us, and consequently a very low and imperfect happiness, to what the other would have afforded us. If we reflect upon any one passion and disposition of mind, abstract from virtue, we shall soon see the disconnexion between that and true, solid happiness. It is of the very essence, for instance, of envy to be uneasy and disquieted. Pride meets with provocations and disturbances upon almost every occasion. Covet- ousness is ever attended with solicitude and anxiety. Ambition has its disappointments to sour us, but never the good fortune to satisfy us; its appetite grows the keener by indulgence, and all we can gratify it with at present serves but the more to inflame its insatia- ble desires. The passions, by being too much conversant with earthly objects, can never fix in us a proper composure and acquiescence of mind, f Nothing but an indiffer- ence to the things of this world, an entire submission to the will of Providence here, and a well-grounded expectation of happiness hereafter, can give us a true satisfactory enjoyment of ourselves. J Virtue is the best guard against the many unavoidable evils incident to 72 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS us; nothing better alleviates the weight of the afflic- tions, or gives a truer relish of the blessings, of human life. What is without us has not the least connexion with happiness, only so far as the preservation of our lives and health depends upon it. Health of body, though so far necessary that we cannot be perfectly happy without it, is not sufficient to make us happy of itself. Happiness springs immediately from the mind ; health is but to be considered as a condition or cir- cumstance, without which this happiness cannot be tasted pure and unabated. Virtue is the best preservative of health, as it pre- scribes temperance, and such a regulation of our pas- sions as is most conducive to the well-being of the animal economy; so that it is, at the same time, the only true" happiness of the mind, and the best means of preserving the health of the body. If our desires are to the things of this world, they are never to be satisfied. If our great view is upon those of the next, the expectation of them is an in- finitely higher satisfaction than the enjoyment of those of the present. There is no happiness, then, but in a virtuous and self-approving conduct. Unless our actions will bear the test of our sober judgments and reflections upon them, they are not the actions, and consequently not the happiness, of a rational being. MISCELLANEOUS. 73 ON DISCOVERIES. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, OCT. 14, 1736. THE world but a few ages since was in a very poor condition, as to trade and navigation ; nor indeed were they much better in other matters of useful knowledge. It was a green-headed time ; every useful improvement was hid from them; they had neither looked into heaven nor earth, into the sea nor land, as has been done since. They had philosophy without experiments, mathematics without instruments, geometry without scale, astronomy without demonstration. They made war without powder, shot, cannon, or mortars; nay, the mob made their bonfires without squibs or crackers. They went to sea without com- pass, and sailed without the needle. They viewed the stars without telescopes, and .measured latitudes without observation. Learning had no printing-press, writing no paper, and paper no ink. The lover was forced to send his mistress a deal board for a love-letter, and a billet-doux might be about the size of an ordinary trencher. They were clothed without manufacture, and their richest robes were the skins of the most formidable monsters. They carried on trade without books, and correspondence without posts; their mer- chants kept no accounts, their shopkeepers no cash- books; they had surgery without anatomy, and phy- sicians without the materia medica ; they gave emetics without ipecacuanha, drew blisters without cantharides, and cured agues without the bark. *As for geographical discoveries, they had neither seen the North Cape, nor the Cape of Good Hope south. All the discovered inhabited world, which they knew and conversed with, was circumscribed within VOL. II. 10 G 74 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. very narrow limits, viz. France, Britain, Spain, Italy, Germany, and Greece ; the lesser Asia, the west part of Persia, Arabia, the north parts of Africa, and the islands of the Mediterranean sea, and this was the whole world to them; not that even these countries were fully known either, and several parts of them not inquired into at all. Germany was known little further than the banks of the Elbe; Poland as little beyond the Vistula, or Hungary as little beyond the Danube ; Muscovy or Russia perfectly unknown, as much as China beyond it ; and India only by a little commerce upon the coast, about Surat and Malabar. Africa had been more unknown, but by the ruin of the Cartha- ginians ; all the western coast of it was sunk out of knowledge again, and forgotten ; the northern coast of Africa, in the Mediterranean, remained known, and that was all ; for the Saracens overrunning the nations which were planted there, ruined commerce, as well as religion. The Baltic sea was not discovered, nor even the navigation of it known; for the Teutonic knights came not thither till the thirteenth century. America was not heard of, nor so much as a sug- gestion in the minds of men that any part of the world lay that way. The coasts of Greenland, or Spits- bergen, and the whale-fishing, not known; the best navigators in the world, at that time, would have fled from a whale, with much more fright and horror, than from the Devil, in the most terrible shapes they had been told he appeared in. The coasts of Angola, Congo, the Gold and the Grain coasts, on the west side of Africa, whence, since that time, such immense wealth has been drawn, not discovered, nor the least inquiry made after them. All the East India and China trade, not only undiscovered, but out of the reach of expectation ! Coffee and tea MISCELLANEOUS. 75 (those modern blessings of mankind) had never been heard of. All the unbounded ocean, we now call the South Sea, was hid and unknown. All the Atlantic ocean beyond the mouth of the Straits, was frightful and terrible in the distant prospect, nor durst any one peep into it, otherwise than as they might creep along the coast of Africa, towards Sallee, or Santa Cruz. The North Sea was hid in a veil of impenetrable darkness. The White Sea, or Archangel, was a very modern discovery ; not found out till Sir Hugh Wil- loughby doubled the North Cape, and paid dear for the adventure, being frozen to death with all his crew, on the coast of Lapland; while his companions' ship, with the famous Mr. Chancellor, went on to the gulf of Russia, called the White Sea, where no Christian strangers had ever been before him. In these narrow circumstances stood the world's knowledge at the beginning of the fifteenth century, when men of genius began to look abroad, and about them. Now, as it was wonderful to see a world so full of people, and people so capable of improving, yet so stupid and so blind, so ignorant and so perfectly un- improved ; it was wonderful to see, with what a general alacrity they took the alarm, almost all together, pre- paring themselves as it were on a sudden, by a general inspiration, to spread knowledge through the earth, and to search into every thing that it was possible to un- cover. How surprising is it to look back, so little a way behind us, and see, that even in less than two hundred years, all this (now so self-wise) part of the world did not so much as know whether there was any such place as a Russia, a China, a Guinea, a Greenland, or a North Cape! That as to America, it was never 76 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. supposed there was any such place; neither had the world, though they stood upon the shoulders of four thousand years' experience, the least thought, so much as that there was any land that way ! * As they were ignorant of places, so of things also ; so vast are the improvements of science, that all our knowledge of mathematics, of nature, of the brightest part of human wisdom, had their admission among us within these two last centuries. What was the world, then, before? And to what were the heads and hands of mankind applied 1 The rich had no commerce, the poor no employment; war and the sword was the great field of honor, the stage of preferment ; and you have scarce a man eminent in the world for any thing, before that tune, but for a furious, outrageous falling upon his fellow-creatures, like Nimrod, and his successors of modern memory. The world is now daily increasing in experimental knowledge ; and let no man flatter the age, with pre- tending we have arrived at a perfection of discoveries. What's now discovered, only serves to show, That nothing 's known, to what is yet to know. * Scandinavian literature was less known when this was written than at present The learned suppose, that the Icelandic SAGAS have thrown new light upon the history of early discoveries, and that there is good evidence for believing that the American continent was known to the Norwegians more than four hundred years before the birth of Colum- bus. — See WHEATON'S History of the Northmen, Chap. II. The best opportunity was afforded to Mr. Wheaton, during his residence in a public capacity at Copenhagen, of ascertaining the genuineness and authenticity of these ancient records, and he appears to place full con- fidence in them. His opinion is, however, that " the illustrious Genoese " could not have had the slightest knowledge of the discoveries of those northern adventurers, and that the colony begun by them was probably cut off at an early period, in the same manner a3 the first establish- ments in Greenland. — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 77 THE WASTE OF LIFE. FROM THE PENNSYLVANIA GAZETTE, NOV. 18, 1736. AISTERGUS was a gentleman of a good estate; he was bred to no business, and could not contrive how to waste his hours agreeably; he had no relish for any of the proper, works of life, nor any taste at all for the improvements of the mind ; he spent generally ten hours of the four-and-twenty in his bed; he dozed away two or three more on his couch, and as many were dissolved in good liquor every evening, if he met with company of his own humor. Five or six of the rest he sauntered away with much indolence ; the chief business of them was to contrive his meals, and to feed his fancy beforehand with the promise of a dinner and supper ; not that he was so absolute a glutton, or so entirely devoted to appetite; but, chiefly because he knew not how to employ his thoughts better, he let them rove about the sustenance of his body. Thus he had made a shift to wear off ten years since the paternal estate fell into his hands; and yet, according to the abuse of words in our day, he was called a man of virtue, because he was scarce ever known to be quite drunk, nor was his nature much inclined to lewdness. One evening, as he was musing alone, his thoughts happened to take a most unusual turn, for they cast a glance backward, and began to reflect on his manner of life. He bethought himself what a number of living beings had been made a sacrifice to support his car- cass, and how much corn and wine had been mingled with those offerings. He had not quite lost all the arithmetic that he had learned when he was a boy, G* 78 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. and he set himself to compute what he had devoured since he came to the age of man. "About a dozen of feathered creatures, small and great, have, one week with another," said he, " given up their lives to prolong mine, which in ten years amounts to at least six thousand. "Fifty sheep have been sacrificed in a year, with half a hecatomb of black cattle, that I might have the choicest part offered weekly upon my table. Thus a thousand beasts out of the flock and the herd have been slain in ten years' time to feed me, besides what the forest has supplied me with. Many hundreds of fishes have, in all their varieties, been robbed of life for my repast, and of the smaller fry as many thou- sands. "A measure of corn would hardly afford me fine flour enough for a month's provision, and this arises to above six score bushels; and many hogsheads of ale and wine, and other liquors, have passed through this body of mine, this wretched strainer of meat and drink. "And what have I done all this time for God or man ? What a vast profusion of good things upon a useless life, and a worthless liver! There is not the meanest creature among all these which I have de- voured, but hath answered the end of its creation better than I. It was made to support human nature, and it hath done so. Every crab and oyster I have eat, and every grain of corn I have devoured, hath filled up its place in the rank of beings with more pro- priety and honor than I have done. O shameful waste of life and time ! " In short, he carried on his moral reflections with so just and severe a force of reason, as constrained him to change his whole course of life, to break off hi? MISCELLANEOUS. 79 follies at once, and to apply himself to gain some useful knowledge, when he was more than thirty years of age. He lived many following years, with the char- acter of a worthy man and an excellent Christian; he performed the kind offices of a good neighbour at home, and made a shining figure as a patriot in the senate-house ; he died with a peaceful conscience, and the tears of his country were dropped upon his tomb. The world, that knew the whole series of his life, stood amazed at the mighty change. They beheld him as a wonder of reformation, while he himself confessed and adored the Divine power and mercy, which had transformed him from a brute to a man. But this was a single instance ; and we may almost venture to write MIRACLE upon it. Are there not num- bers of both sexes among our young gentry, in this degenerate age, whose lives thus run to utter waste, without the least tendency to usefulness? When I meet with persons of such a worthless character as this, it brings to my mind some scraps of Horace ; " Nos numerus sumus, et fruges consumere nati, Alcinoique juventus, Cui pulchrum fuit in medios dormire dies," &c. PARAPHRASE. There are a number of us creep Into this world, to eat and sleep ; And know no reason why they're born, But merely to consume the corn, Devour the cattle, fowl, and fish, And leave behind an empty dish. Though crows and ravens do the same, Unlucky birds of hateful name, Ravens or crows might fill their places, And swallow corn and eat carcases. 80 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Then, if their tomb-stone, when they die, Be n't taught to flatter and to lie, There's nothing better will be said, Than that they 've eat up all their bread, Drunk all their drink, and gone to bed. There are other fragments of that heathen poet, which occur on such occasions ; one in the first of his Satires, the other in the last of his Epistles, which seem to represent life only as a season of luxury. . . " Exacto contentus tempore vitse Cedat, uti conviva satur." " Lusisti satis, edisti satis, atque bibisti ; Tempus abire tibi est." WTiich may be thus put into English. Life's but a feast; and when we die, Horace would say, if he were by, " Friend, thou hast eat and drunk enough, 'Tis time now to be marching off; Then like a well-fed guest depart, With cheerful looks, and ease at heart; Bid all your friends good night, and say, You 've done the business of the day." NECESSARY HINTS TO THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH. WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 1736. THE use of money is all the advantage there is in having money. For six pounds a year you may have the use of one hundred pounds, provided you are a man of known 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. MISCELLANEOUS. 81 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 shil- lings 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 tune that a young man becomes old, will amount to a considerable sum of money. Again ; he that sells upon credit, asks a price for what he sells equivalent to the principal and interest of his money for the time he is to be kept out of it ; therefore he that buys upon credit, pays interest for what he buys, and he that pays ready money, might let that money out to use; so that he that possesses any thing he has bought, pays 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 saved is two pence clear, A pin a day 's a groat a year. VOL. II. 11 82 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 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 com- panions; 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 op- press, nor hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze thee. The whole hemisphere will shine brighter, and pleasure spring up in every corner of thy heart. Now, there- fore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind, and live inde- pendent. 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 in the morning, and attend thee until thou reachest the evening hour * A gentleman, who was a particular friend of Dr. Franklin, and much used to his style of writing and conversation, has expressed a belief to the Editor, that this piece was not from his pen. The internal evidence is certainly but little in its favor, and it is retained here chiefly because it is comprized in the edition published by his grandson, although there is no proof that he had any positive authority for adopting it. — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 83 for rest. Let honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and never forget to have a penny when all thy ex- penses 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 dia- monds. RIVALSHIP IN ALMANAC-MAKING. FROM POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC, 1742. COURTEOUS READER, THIS is the ninth year of my endeavours to serve thee in the capacity of a calendar-writer. The en- couragement I have met with must be ascribed, in a great measure, to your charity, excited by the open, honest declaration I made of my poverty at my first appearance. This my brother Philomaths could, with- out being conjurers, discover ; and Poor Richard's suc- cess has produced ye a Poor Will, and a Poor Robin ; and no doubt Poor John, &c. will follow, and we shall all be, in name, what some folks say we are already in fact, a parcel of poor almanac-makers. During the course of these nine years, what buffetings have I not sustained ! The fraternity have been all in arms. Honest Titan, deceased, was raised, and made to abuse his old friend. Both authors and printers were angry. Hard names, and many, were bestowed on me. They de- nied me to be the author of my own works ; declared there never was any such person ; asserted that I was dead sixty years ago; prognosticated my death to happen 84 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. within a twelvemonth ; with many other malicious in- consistencies, the effects of blind passion, envy at my success, and a vain hope of depriving me, dear reader, of thy wonted countenance and favor. WJio knows him 1 they cry ; where does he live 1 But what is that to them ? If I delight in a private life, have they any right to drag me out of my retirement? I have good reasons for concealing the place of my abode. It is time for an old man, as I am, to think of preparing for his great remove. The perpetual teasing of both neigh- bours and strangers to calculate nativities, give judg- ments on schemes, and erect figures, discover thieves, detect horse-stealers, describe the route of runaways and strayed cattle ; the crowd of visiters with a thou- sand trifling questions, Will my ship return safe ?• Will my mare win the race 1 Will her next colt be a pacer ? When will my wife die 1 Who shall be my husband ? and HOW LONG first? When is the best time to cut hair, trim cocks, or sow sallad ? these and the like impertinences I have now neither taste nor leisure for. I have had enough of them. All that these angry folks can say, will never provoke me to tell them where I live ; I would eat my nails first. My last adversary is /. / n, Philomat., who de- clares and protests (in his preface, 1741), that the false prophecy put in my Jllmanac, concerning him, the year before, is altogether false and untrue, and that I am one of Baal's false prophets. This false, false prophecy he speaks of related to his reconciliation with the church of Rome ; which, notwithstanding his declaring and protesting, is, I fear, too true. Two things in his elegiac verses confirm me in this suspicion. He calls the first of November Jill-Hallows Day. Reader, does not this smell of Popery ? Does it in the least savour of the pure language of Friends? But the plainest MISCELLANEOUS. 85 thing is his adoration of saints, which he confesses to be his practice, in these words, page 4, " When any trouble did me befall, To my dear Mary then I would call." Did he think the whole world \vere so stupid as not to take notice of this? So ignorant as not to know, that all Catholics pay the highest regard to the Virgin Mary? Ah, friend John, we must allow you to be a poet, but you are certainly no Protestant. I could heartily wish your religion were as good as your verses. RICHARD SAUNDERS.* * Some parts of this humorous Piece will be explained by the follow- ing address, contained in Poor Richard's Jttmanac for the year 1736. " LOVING READERS, " Ycur kind acceptance of my former labors has encouraged me to continue writing, though the general approbation you have been so good as to favor me with has excited the envy of some, and drawn upon me the malice of others. These ill-willers of mine, despited at the great reputation I gained by exactly predicting another man's death, have en- deavoured to deprive me of it all at once in the most effectual manner, by reporting that I myself was never alive. They say in short, Tliat there is no such man as I am; and have spread this notion so thoroughly in the country, that I have been frequently told it to my face by those that don't know me. This is not civil treatment, to endeavour to deprive me of my very being, and reduce me to a nonentity hi the opinion of the public. But so long as I know myself to walk about, eat, drink, and sleep, I am satisfied that there is really such a man as I am, whatever they may say to the contrary. And the world may be satisfied likewise ; for if there were no such man as I am, how is it possible I should ap- pear publicly to hundreds of people, as I have done for several years past, in print? I need not, indeed, have taken any notice of so idle a report, if it had not been for the sake of my printer, to whom my enemies are pleased to ascribe my productions ; and who, it seems, is as unwilling to father my offspring, as I am to lose the credit of it. Therefore to clear him entirely, as well as to vindicate my own honor, I make this public and serious declaration, which I desire may be believed, to wit, that what 1 have ivritten heretofore, and do now write, neither was nor is written by any other man or men, person or persons, ichntsoever. Those who are not satis- fied with this, must needs be very unreasonable. " My performance for this year follows. It submits itself, kind reader, to thy censure, but hopes for thy candor to forgive its faults It devotes VOL. II. H 86 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. RULES OF HEALTH. FROM POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC, 1742. EAT and drink such an exact quantity as the con- stitution of thy body allows of, in reference to the services of the mind. They that study much, ought not to eat so much as those that work hard, their digestion bein- not so good. The exact quantity and quality, being found out, is to be kept to constantly. Excess in all other things whatever, as weU as in meat and drink, is also to be avoided. Youth, age, and the sick, require a different quantity. And so do those of contrary complexions; for that which is too much for a phlegmatic man, is not suffi- cient for a choleric. The measure of food ought to be (as much as pos- bly may be) exactly proportionable to the quality and condition of the stomach, because the stomach digests it. That quantity that is sufficient, the stomach can perfectly concoct and digest, and it sufficeth the due nourishment of the body. A greater quantity of some things may be eaten itself entirely to thy service, and will serve thee And if it has enough f^ the R. SAUNDERS." it f t 8OTt' SeaS°ned by a Httle humor> M always, B true of the most refined quality, but suited to the general taste of the tomes,) that he won the attention of his readers, and^prepa ed , em to listen with approbation to the graver counsels of wisdom, and le ons of economy and V1rtue, which abounded in Poor Richar(f ™ gained for it an unprecedented circulation. — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 87 than of others, some being of lighter digestion than others. The difficulty lies in finding out an exact measure ; but eat for necessity, not pleasure ; for lust knows not where necessity ends. Wouldst thou enjoy a long life, a healthy body, and a vigorous mind, and be acquainted also with the wonderful works of God, labor in the first place to bring thy appetite to reason. ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. WRITTEN IN THE TEAR 1748. To MY FRIEND, 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 labor, and goes abroad, or sits idle, one half of that day, though he spends but sixpence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to reckon that the only expense ; he has really spent, or rather thrown away, five shillings besides. Remember, that credit is money. If a man lets his money lie in my hands after it is due, he gives me the interest, or so much as I can make of it during that time. This amounts to a considerable sum where a man has good and large credit, and makes good use of it. Remember, that money is of the 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 88 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 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 thou- sandth generation. He that murders a crown, destroys all that it might have produced, even scores of pounds. Remember, that six pounds a year is but a groat a day. For this little sum (which may be daily wasted either in time or expense unperceived) a man of credit may, on his own security, have the constant possession and use of an hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an industrious man, produces great advantage. Remember this saying, The good paymaster 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 punc- tuality and justice in all his dealings; therefore never keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you promised, lest a disappointment shut up your friend's purse for ever. The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to be regarded. The sound of your hammer at five in the morning, or nine at night, heard by a cred- itor, 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 re- ceive it, in a lump. It shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe; it makes you appear a careful as well as an honest man, and that still increases your credit. MISCELLANEOUS. 89 Beware of thinking all your cwn that you possess, and of living accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who have credit fall into. To prevent this, keep an exact 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 ex- penses 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 fiiigality ; 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 hon- estly, and saves all he gets (necessary expenses ex- cepted), 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. PLAN FOR SAVING ONE HUNDRED THOUSAND POUNDS. FROM POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC, 1756. As I spent some weeks last winter in visiting my old acquaintance in the Jerseys, great complaints I heard for want of money, and that leave to make more paper bills could not be obtained. Friends and Coun- trymen ; my advice on this head shall cost you nothing ; and, if you will not be angry with me for giving it, I promise you not to be offended if you do not take it. VOL. II. 12 H* 90 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. You spend yearly at least two hundred thousand pounds, it is said, in European, East-Indian, and West- Indian commodities. Supposing one half of this ex- pense to be in things absolutely necessary, the other half may be called superfluities, or, at best, conven- iences, which, however, you might live without for one little year, and not suffer exceedingly. Now, to save this half, observe these few directions. 1. When you incline to have new clothes, look first well over the old ones, and see if you cannot shift with them another year, either by scouring, mending, or even patching if necessary. Remember, a patch on your coat, and money in your pocket, is better and more creditable, than a writ on your back, and no money to take it off. 2. When you incline to buy China ware, chintzes, India silks, or any other of their flimsy, slight manufac- tures, I would not be so hard with you, as to insist on your absolutely resolving against it ; all I advise is, to put it off (as you do your repentance) till another year; and this, in some respects, may prevent an occasion of repentance. 3. If you are now a drinker of punch, wine, or tea, twice a day, for the ensuing year drink them but once a day. If you now drink them but once a day, do it but every other day. If you do it now but once a week, reduce the practice to once a fortnight. And, if you do not exceed in quantity as you lessen the times, half your expense in these articles will be saved. 4. When you incline to drink rum, fill the glass half with water. Thus at the year's end, there will be a hundred thousand pounds more money m your country. If paper money hi ever so great a quantity could be made, no man could get any of it without giving some- MISCELLANEOUS. 91 thing for it. But all he saves in this way, will be his own for nothing, and his country actually so much richer. Then the merchants' old and doubtful debts may be honestly paid off, and trading become surer thereafter, if not so extensive.* * The humor and quaintness of POOR RICHARD sometimes appeared in the advertisements, setting forth the contents of his Almanacs. The following is from The Pennsylvania Gazette, November 6th, 1755. " Next week will be published, and sold by the printers hereof, POOR RICHARD'S ALMANAC for 1756, containing, besides the usual astronomical calculations, a variety of useful and entertaining observations ; viz. How Pennsylvania may save three millions two hundred and eighty thousand pounds in seven years, of which every farmer may, if he pleases, have his share ; the praises of astronomy ; the praises of religion ; conversation, rules to be agreeable in it ; how New Jersey may clear one hundred thousand pounds in the year 1756 ; the advantage of temperance in pro- moting men to high stations ; the distinguishing honors conferred by God on men industrious in their calling ; rule to prevent malignant fevers or fluxes ; Newton's eulogy ; noble character of a general ; difference be- tween a person of honor, and a man of honor ; settlement of a man's moral accounts ; how to feed sixty thousand men at 2s. 8d. a day ; proper victualling for long marches in the woods ; excellent remedies for the cure of fluxes, dry gripes, and fevers, &c. &c. &c." It will be recollected, that the parts relating to the feeding and march- ing of armies were applicable to the times. The French and Indian war was then raging on the frontiers of all the colonies. The hint respecting the " settlement of a man's moral accounts " is found at the beginning of the month of December. " Well, my friend, thou art now just entering the last month of another year. If thou art a man of business, and of prudent care, belike thou wilt settle thy accounts, to satisfy thyself whether thou hast gained or lost in the year past, and how much of either, the better to regulate thy future industry or thy common expenses. This is commendable. But it is not all. Wilt thou not examine also thy moral accounts, and see what improvements thou hast made in the conduct of life, what vice sub- dued, what virtue acquired ; how much better, and how much wiser, as well as how much richer, thou art grown ? ' What shall it profit a man, if he gain the whole world, and lose his own soul ?' Without some care in this matter, though thou mayest come to count thy thousands, thou wilt possibly still appear poor in the eyes of the discerning, even here, and be really so for ever hereafter" — EDITOR. 92 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. THE WAY TO WEALTH, AS CLEARLY SHOWN IN THE PREFACE OF AN OLD PENNSYLVANIA ALMANAC, ENTITLED, " POOR RICHARD IMPROVED." FEW compositions in any language have been so widely read, as this summary of the maxims and proverbs of Poor Richard. The following account is given of it by Dr. Franklin, in his Memoirs. "In 1732 I first published my Almanac under the name of Richard Saunders ; it was continued by me about twenty-five years, and commonly called Poor Richard's Almanac. I endeav- oured to make it both entertaining and useful, and it accordingly came to be in such demand, that I reaped considerable profit from it, vending annually near ten thousand. And observing that it was generally read, (scarce any neighbourhood in the province being without it,) I considered it as a proper vehicle for conveying instruction among the common people, who bought scarcely any other books. I therefore filled" all the little spaces, that occurred between the remarkable days in the Calendar, with proverbial sentences, chiefly such as inculcated industry and frugality, as the means of procuring wealth, and thereby securing virtue ; it being more difficult for a man in want to act always honestly, as (to use here one of those proverbs) ' It is hard for an empty sack to stand upright.' These proverbs, which contained the wisdom of many ages and nations, I assembled and formed into a con- nected discourse, prefixed to the Almanac of 1757, as the harangue of a wise old man to the people attending an auction. The bringing all these scattered counsels thus into a focus, enabled them to make greater impression. The piece, being universally approved, was copied in all the newspapers of the American Continent, reprinted in Britain on a large sheet of paper to be stuck up in houses ; two translations were made of it in France, and great numbers bought by the clergy and gentry, to distribute gratis among their poor parishioners and tenants. In Pennsylvania, as it discouraged useless expense in foreign superfluities, some thought it had its share of influence in producing that growing plenty of money, which was observable for several years after its publication." MISCELLANEOUS. 93 In more recent times the piece has hardly been less popular. It is suited, indeed, to every country, and to all states of society. There have been, at least, three translations made of it into French. The first is contained in M. Dubourg's OEuvres de Franklin, published in two volumes, quarto, at Paris, in 1773. It is there entitled Le Moycn de s'enrichir ; and the translator calls the Almanac-maker Le Pauvre Henri a son aise, to avoid, as Mr. Vaughan suggests, the jtu de mots, which would have occurred if he had written, Le Pauvre Richard. However this may be, M. Dubourg has rendered the sense of his author with much fidelity. The next version was by Q,uetant, a second edition of which appeared in 1778 ; and an improved edition in 1794, to which M. Ginguene prefixed an abridged life of the author. The title given in this version is La Science du Bonhomme Richard; Ou Moyen Facile de payer les Impots. A beautiful edition of the same, in connexion with the English, was printed at Dijon in 1795. This translation is diffuse, and less faithful than that of Dubourg. Not satisfied with either of them, Castera made a new one, entitled Le Chemin de la Fortune; Ou La Science du Bon- homme Richard, which is among the other writings of Franklin, translated by him, and published in two volumes, at Paris, in 1798. This is a closer version than that of duetant, and per- haps more elegant than Dubourg's ; which, however, conforms more nearly to the meaning and spirit of the original, than either of the others. A translation of " Poor Richard " in modern Greek was printed at Didot's press, in Paris, in the year 1823, entitled c// : ' Emory [iij TOV Ku).ov ' ' Pi%uQSov, avvTt&tlaa vno TOV B. guyx),ivov. A brief account of the author's life in the same language is prefixed. Some copies of THE WAY TO WEALTH begin in the following manner. " I have heard, that nothing gives an author so great pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted by other learned authors. This pleasure I have seldom enjoyed ; for, though I have been, if I may say it without vanity, an eminent author (of Almanacs) annually now a full quarter of a century, my brother authors in the same way, for what reason I know not, have ever been very sparing in their applauses ; and no other author has taken the least notice of me ; so that, did not my writings produce me some solid pudding, the great deficiency of praise would have quite discouraged me. I concluded, at length, that the people were the best judges of my merit, for they buy my works ; and besides, in my rambles, where 94 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. I am not personally known, I have frequently heard one or other of my adages repeated, with * As poor Richard says,' at the end on't. This gave me some satisfaction, as it showed not only that my instructions were regarded, but discovered likewise some re- spect for my authority ; and I own, that, to encourage the prac- tice of remembering and reading those wise sentences, I have sometimes quoted myself with great gravity. Judge, then, &c." This paragraph is now seldom inserted. Indeed it was omitted in Mr. Vaughan's edition, which was printed with the knowledge and approbation of the author. Nor is it contained in Dubourg's translation, which appeared earlier; but it is found in the version by Quetant, and is retained in the beautiful Dijon edition. It has passed thence into the modern Greek. — EDITOR. COURTEOUS READER, I HAVE heard, that nothing gives an author so great pleasure as to find his works respectfully quoted by others. Judge, then, how much I must have been gratified by an incident I am going to relate to you. I stopped my horse lately, where a great number of people were collected at an auction of merchants' goods. The hour of the sale not being come, they were conversing on the badness of the times ; and one of the company called to a plain, clean, old man, with white locks, " Pray, Father Abraham, what think you of the times? Will not these heavy taxes quite ruin the country ? How shall we ever be able to pay them? What would you advise us to?" Father Abraham stood up, and replied, " If you would have my advice, I will give it you in short ; for Ji word to the wise is enough, as Poor Richard says." They joined in desir- ing him to speak his mind, and gathering round him, he proceeded as follows. "Friends," said he, "the taxes are indeed very heavy, and, if those laid on by the government were the only ones we had to pay, we might more easily MISCELLANEOUS. 95 discharge them ; but we have many others, and much more grievous to some of us. We are taxed twice as much by our idleness, three times as much by our pride, and four times as much by our folly ; and from these taxes the commissioners cannot ease or deliver us, by allowing an abatement. However, let us hearken to good advice, and something may be done for us ; God helps them that help themselves, as Poor Richard says. "I. It would be thought a hard government, that should tax its people one-tenth part of their time, to be employed in its service; but idleness taxes many of us much more ; sloth, by bringing on diseases, ab- solutely shortens life. Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labor wears ; while the used key is always bright, as Poor Richard says. But dost thou love life, then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of, as Poor Richard says. How much more than is neces- sary do we spend in sleep, forgetting, that The sleeping fox catches no poultry, and that There will be sleeping enough in the grave, as Poor Richard says. " If time be of all things the most precious, wasting time must be, as Poor Richard says, the greatest pro- digality ; since, as he elsewhere tells us, Lost time is never found again; and what we call time enough, always proves little enough. Let us then up and be doing, and doing to the purpose ; so by diligence shall we do more with less perplexity. Sloth makes all things difficult, but industry all easy ; and He that riseth late must trot all day, and shall scarce overtake his business at night ; while Laziness travels so slowly, that Poverty soon overtakes him. Drive thy business, let not that drive thee ; and Early to bed, and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise, as Poor Richard says. 96 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. " So what signifies wishing and hoping for better times ? We may make these times better, if we bestir ourselves. Industry need not wish, and he that lives upon hopes will die fasting. There are no gains with- out pains ; then help, hands, for I have no lands ; or, if I have, they are smartly taxed. He that hath a trade hath an estate ; and he that hath a calling, hath an office of profit and honor, as Poor Richard says; but then the trade must be worked at, and the calling followed, or neither the estate nor the office will enable us to pay our taxes. If we are industrious, we shall never starve ; for, At the working man's house hunger looks in, but dares not enter. Nor will the bailiff or the constable enter, for Industry pays debts, while despair increaseth them. What though you have found no treasure, nor has any rich relation left you a legacy, Diligence is the mother of good luck, and God gives all things to in- dustry. Then plough deep while sluggards sleep, and you shall have corn to sell and to keep. Work while it is called to-day, for you know not how much you may be hindered to-morrow. One to-day is worth two to-morrows, as Poor Richard says ; and further, Never leave that till to-morrow, which you can do to-day. If you were a servant, would you not be ashamed that a good master should catch you idle ? Are you then your own master ? Be ashamed to catch yourself idle, when there is so much to be done for yourself, your family, your country, and your king. Handle your tools without mittens ; remember, that The cat in gloves catches no mice, as Poor Richard says. It is true there is much to be done, and perhaps you are weak-handed ; but stick to it steadily, and you will see great effects ; for Constant dropping wears away stones ; and By dili- gence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable ; and Little strokes fell great oaks. MISCELLANEOUS. 97 " Methinks I hear some of you say, * Must a man afford himself no leisure 1 ' I will tell thee, my friend, what Poor Richard says, Employ thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure ; and, since thou art not sure o a minute, throw not away an hour. Leisure is time for doing something useful; this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the lazy man never ; for A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two things. Many, idthout labor, would live by their wits only, but they break for want of stock ; whereas industry gives com- fort, and plenty, and respect Fly pleasures, and they will follow you. The diligent spinner has a large shift ; and now I have a sheep and a cow, everybody bids me good morrow. "II. But with our industry we must likewise be steady, settled, and careful, and oversee our own affairs with our own eyes, and not trust too much to others ; for, as Poor Richard says, . . . I never saw an oft-removed tree, Nor yet an oft-removed family, That throve so well as those that settled be. And again, Three removes are as bad as a fire ; and again, Keep thy shop, and thy shop will keep thee ; and again, If you woidd have your business done, go ; if not, send. And again, He that by the plough would thrive, Himself must cither hold or drive. And again, The eye of a master will do more work than both his hands ; and again, Want of care does us more damage than want of knowledge ; and again, JYbt to oversee workmen, is to leave them your purse open. Trusting too much to others' care is the ruin of many ; for In the affairs of this world men are saved, not by faith, but by the want of it ; but a man's own care is profitable ; for, If you would have a faithful servant, and VOL. II. 13 I 98 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. one that you like, seme yourself. Jl little neglect may breed great mischief; for want of a nail the shoe was lost ; for want of a shoe the horse was lost ; and for want of -a, horse the rider was lost, being overtaken and slain by the enemy ; all for want of a little care about a horse-shoe nail. "III. So much for industry, my friends, and atten- tion to one's own business ; but to these we must add frugality, if we would make our industry more certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how to save as he gets, keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, and die not worth a groat at last. Jl fat kitchen makes a lean will ; andj Many estates are spent in the getting, Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting. If you would be wealthy, think of saving as well as of getting. The Indies have not made Spain rich, because her outgoes are greater than her incomes. "Away then with your expensive follies, and you will not then have so much cause to complain of hard tunes, heavy taxes, and chargeable families; for Women and wine, game and deceit, Make the wealth small and the toant great. And further, What maintains one vice would bring up two children. You may think, perhaps, that a little tea, or a little punch now and then, diet a little more costly, clothes a little finer, and a little entertainment now and then, can be no great matter; but remem- ber, Many a little makes a mickle. Beware of little expenses ; Jl small leak will sink a great ship, as Poor Richard says ; and again, WTio dainties love, shall beggars prove ; and moreover, Fools make feasts, and wise men eat them. MISCELLANEOUS. 99 " Here you are all got together at this sale of fineries and knick-knacks. You call them goods ; but, if you do not take care, they will prove evils to some of you. You expect they will be sold cheap, and perhaps they may for less than they cost ; but, if you have no occasion for them, they must be dear to you. Remember what Poor Richard says; Buy what thou hast no need of, and ere long thou shalt sell thy necessaries. C And again, Jit a great pennyworth pause a while. / He means, that perhaps the cheapness is apparentTonly, and not real; or the bargain, by straitening thee in thy business, may do thee more harm than good. For in another place he says, Many have been ruined by buying good pennyworths. Again, It is foolish to lay out money in a purchase of repentance ; and yet this folly is practised every day at auctions, for want of minding the Almanac. Many a one, for the sake of finery on the back, have gone with a hungry belly and half-starved their families. Silks and satins, scarlet and velvets, put out the kitchen fire, as Poor Richard says. " These are not the necessaries of life ; they can scarcely be called the conveniences; and yet, only because they look pretty, how many want to have them ! By these, and other extravagances, the genteel are reduced to poverty, and forced to borrow of those whom they formerly despised, but who, through in- dustry and frugality, have maintained their standing; in which case it appears plainly, that A ploughman on his legs is higher than a gentleman on his knees, as Poor Richard says. |_ Perhaps they have had a small estate left them, which they knew not the getting of; they think, It is day, and will never be night ; that a little to be spent out of so much is not worth minding ; but Always taking out of the meal-tub, and never putting 100 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. in, soon comes to the bottom, as Poor Richard says ; and then, When the well is dry, they know the worth of water. '* But this they might have known before, if they had taken his advice. If you would know the value of money, go and try to borrow some ; for he that goes a borrowing goes a sorrowing, as Poor Richard says ; and indeed so does he that lends to such people, when he goes to get it in again, f Poor Dick further advises, and says, Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse ; Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse. I JAnd again, Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great deal more saucy. When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that your appear- ance may be all of a piece ; but Pqor Dick says, It is easier to suppress the first desire, than to satisfy all that follow it. And it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as for the frog to swell in order to equal the ox. Vessels large may venture more, But little boats should keep near shore. It is, however, a folly soon punished; for, as Poor Richard says, Pride that dines on vanity, sups on con- tempt. Pride breakfasted with Plenty, dined with Pov- erty, and supped with Infamy. And, after all, of what use is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, so much is suffered ? It cannot promote health, nor ease pain ; it makes no increase of merit in the person ; it creates envy ; it hastens misfortune. "But what madness must it be to run in debt for these superfluities ? We are offered by the terms of this sale, six months' credit ; and that, perhaps, has induced some of us to attend it, because we cannot spare the ready money, and hope now to be fine with- out it. But, ah ! think what you do when you run in MISCELLANEOUS. 101 debt; you give to another power over your liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your creditor; you will be in fear when you speak to him; you will make poor, pitiful, sneaking excuses, and, by degrees, come to lose your veracity, and sink into base, downright lying; for The second vice is lying) the first is running in debt, as Poor Richard says ; and again, to the same purpose, Lying rides upon Debt's back; Whereas a free-born English- man ought not to be ashamed nor afraid to see or speak to any man living. But poverty often deprives a man of all spirit and virtue. It is hard for an empty bag to stand upright. "What would you think of that prince, or of that government, who should issue an edict forbidding you to dress like a gentleman or gentlewoman, on pain of imprisonment or servitude? Would you not say that you were free, have a right to dress as you please, and that such an edict would be a breach of your privileges, and such a government tyrannical ? And yet you are about to put yourself under such tyranny, when you run in debt for such dress! Your creditor has au- thority, at his pleasure, to deprive you of your liberty, by confining you in gaol till you shall be able to pay him. When you have got your bargain, you may, perhaps, think little of payment ; but, as Poor Richard says, Creditors have better memories than debtors ; cre- ditors are a superstitious sect, great observers of set days and times. The day comes round before you are aware, and the demand is made before you are pre- pared to satisfy it ; or, if you bear your debt in mind, the term, which at first seemed so long, will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time will seem to have added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders. ; Those Imve a short Lent, who owe money to be paid i* 102 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. at Easter. At present, perhaps, you may think your- selves in thriving circumstances, and that you can bear a little extravagance without injury ; but For age and want save while you may ; No morning sun lasts a whole day. Gain may be temporary and uncertain, but ever, while you live, expense is constant and certain ; and It is easier to build two chimneys, than to keep one in fuel, as Poor Richard says ; so, Rather go to bed supperless, than rise in debt. Get wliat you can, and what you get hold; ' Tis the stone that will turn all your lead into gold. And, when you have got the Philosopher's stone, sure you will no longer complain of bad times, or the diffi- culty of paying taxes. " IV. This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wis- dom ; but, after all, do not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, and prudence, though ex- cellent things ; for they may all be blasted, without the blessing of Heaven ; and, therefore, ask that blessing humbly, and be not uncharitable to those that at pres- ent seem to want it, but comfort and help them. Remember, Job suffered, and was afterwards pros- perous. "And now, to conclude, Experience keeps a dear school, but fools will learn in no other, as Poor Richard says, and scarce in that ; for, it is true, We may give advice, but we, cannot give conduct. However, remem- ber this, They that will not be counselled, cannot be helped; and further, that, If you will not hear Reason, she will surely rap your knuckles, as Poor Richard says." Thus the old gentleman ended his harangue. The people heard it, and approved the doctrine ; and imme- diately practised the contrary, just as if it had been a common sermon; for the auction opened, and they MISCELLANEOUS. 103 began to buy extravagantly. I found the good man had thoroughly studied my Almanacs, and digested all I had dropped on these topics during the course of twenty-five years. The frequent mention he made of me must have tired any one else ; but my vanity was wonderfully delighted with it, though I was conscious that not a tenth part of the wisdom was my own; which he ascribed to me, but rather the gleanings that I had made of the sense of all ages and nations. However, I resolved to be the better for the echo of it; and, though I had at first determined to buy stuff for a new coat, I went away resolved to wear my old one a little longer. Reader, if thou wilt do the same, thy profit will be as great as mine. I am, as ever, thine to serve thee, RICHARD SAUJVDERS. OBSERVATIONS ON MAYZ, OR INDIAN CORN. IT is remarked in North America, that the English farmers, when they first arrive there, finding a soil and climate proper for the husbandry they have been accus- tomed to, and particularly suitable for raising wheat, they despise and neglect the culture of mayz,* or In- dian corn ; but, observing the advantage it affords their neighbours, the older inhabitants, they by degrees get more and more into the practice of raising it ; and the face of the country shows, from time to time, that the culture of that grain goes on visibly augmenting. The inducements are, -the many different ways in which it may be prepared, so as to afford a wholesome * This word seems to have no settled orthography. It is written nayz, mai:, maize. The last is, perhaps, the most usual. — EDITOR. 104 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. and pleasing nourishment to men and other animals. 1st. The family can begin to make use of it before the time of full harvest ; for the tender green ears, stripped of their leaves, and roasted by a quick fire till the grain is brown, and eaten with a little salt or butter, are a delicacy. 2dly. When the grain is ripe and harder, the ears, boiled in their leaves, and eaten with butter, are also good and agreeable food. The tender green grains, dried, may be kept all the year, and, mixed with green haricots* also dried, make at any time a pleasing dish, being first soaked some hours in water, and then boiled. When the grain is ripe and hard, there are also several ways of using it. One is, to soak it all night in a lessive or lye, and then pound it in a large wooden mortar with a wooden pestle ; the skin of each grain is by that means skinned off, and the farinaceous part left whole, which, being boiled, swells into a white soft pulp, and eaten \vith milk, or with butter and sugar, is delicious.f The dry grain is also sometimes ground loosely, so as to be broke into pieces of the size of rice, and being winnowed to separate the bran, it is then boiled and eaten with turkeys or other fowls, as rice. Ground into a finer meal, they make of it by boiling a hasty-pudding, or bouilli, to be eaten with milk, or with butter and sugar ; this resembles what the Italians call polenta. They make of the same meal, with water and salt, a hasty cake, which, being stuck against a hoe or other flat iron, is placed erect before the fire, and so baked, to be used as bread. Broth is also agreeably thickened with the same meal. They also parch it in this manner. An iron pot is filled with sand, and set on the fire till the sand is very hot. Two * Kidney beans. | Called hominy, and much used in the Southern States, but seldom in New England. — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 105 or three pounds of the grain are then thrown in, and well mixed with the sand by stirring. Each grain bursts and throws out a white substance of twice its bigness. The sand is separated by a wire sieve, and returned into the pot, to be again heated and repeat the operation with fresh grain. That which is parched is pounded to a powder in mortars. This, being sifted, will keep long for use. An Indian will travel far and subsist long on a small bag of it, taking only six or eight ounces of it per day, mixed with water. The flour of mayz, mixed with that of wheat, makes excellent bread, sweeter and more agreeable than that of -wheat alone.* To feed horses, it is good to soak the grain twelve hours ; they mash it easier with their teeth, and it yields them more nourishment. The leaves, stripped off the stalks after the grain is ripe, and tied up in bundles when dry, are excellent forage for horses, cows, &c. The stalks, pressed like sugar-cane, yield a sweet juice, which, being fermented and dis- tilled, yields an excellent spirit ; boiled without fermen- tation, it affords a pleasant syrup. In Mexico, fields are sown with it thick, that multitudes of small stalks may arise, which, being cut from time to time like asparagus, are served in deserts, and their sweet juice extracted in the mouth by chewing them. The meal wetted is excellent food for young chickens, and the whole grain for grown fowls. * Mixed with rye flour or meal, it is not less palatable or nutritious. This mixture forms the common brown bread of New England. — EDITOR. VOL. II. 14 106 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 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 in- terrupted and tormented by visits from friends and acquaintances, who not only make you lose your valu- able time, but make you forget a thousand things, which you wish to remember ; so that, when you are embarked, and fairly at sea, you recollect, with much uneasiness, affairs which you have not terminated, ac- counts 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 de- ranging 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 1 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 com- mon ; however, if yours be not of this number, if he be a good seaman, attentive, careful, and active in the management of his vessel, you must dispense with the rest, for these are essential qualities. * The date of this piece is uncertain, but it was probably written during the author's residence in England. — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 107 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 occa- sionally. 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 cany with you good tea, ground coffee, chocolate, wine of that sort which you like best, cider, dried raisins, almonds, sugar, capillaire, citrons, rum, eggs dipped in oil, port- able 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 undoubt- edly originated formerly from a want of water, and when it has been found necessary to be sparing of it, that poultry never know when they have drunk enough; and that when water is given them at dis- cretion, they generally kill themselves by drinking be- yond measure. In consequence of this opinion, they give them water only once in two days, and even then in small quantities ; but as they pour this water into troughs inclining on one side, which occasions it to run to the lower part, it thence happens that they are obliged to mount one upon the back of another in order to reach it; and there are some which cannot even dip their beaks in it. Thus continually tantalized and tormented by thirst, they are unable to digest their food, which is very dry, and they soon fall sick and die. Some of them are found thus every morning, and are thrown into the sea; whilst those which are 108 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. killed for the table are scarcely fit to be eaten. To remedy this inconvenience, it will be necessary to divide their troughs into small compartments, in such a manner that each of them may be capable of con- taining 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. It may happen that some of the provisions and stores, which I have recommended, may become al- most 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, pay- ing less for their passage, are stowed among the com- mon sailors, and have no right to the captain's pro- visions, except such part of them as is used for feeding the crew. These passengers are sometimes sick, melancholy, and dejected ; and there are often women and children among them, neither of whom have any 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 assist- ance 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, wrho have a better opinion of Provi- dence, will think otherwise. Knowing that sea air, MISCELLANEOUS. 109 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 hunger. However, if you have no confidence in these succours of Providence, you may yourself, with a lamp and a boiler, by the help of a little spirits of wine, prepare some food, such as soup, hash, &,c. A small oven made of tin plate is not a bad piece of furniture ; your servant may roast in it a piece of mutton or pork. If you are ever tempted to eat salt beef, which is often very good, you will find that cider is the best liquor to quench the thirst generally caused by salt meat or salt fish. Sea biscuit, which is too hard for the teeth of some people, may be softened by steeping it; but bread double-baked is the best ; for being made of good loaf- bread cut into slices, and baked a second time, it readily imbibes 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 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 * It is derived from bis, again, and cuit, baked. VOL. II. J 110 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. by the rolling of the vessel, I have wished that our tinmen would make our soup-basins with divisions or compartments, forming small plates, proper for contain- ing soup for one person only. By this disposition, the soup, in an extraordinary roll, would not be thrown out of the plate, and would not fall into the breasts of those who are at table, and scald them. Having entertained you with these things of little importance, 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 were so frequent and so fatal before it was invented and became so com- mon ; we cannot help considering it as one of those arts which contribute most to the happiness of man- kind. 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 ves- sels and transport slaves, it is evidently only the dread- ful 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 sugar 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 to- bacco, little can be said; and, with regard to sugar, how much more meritorious would it be to sacrifice MISCELLANEOUS. HI ihe momentary pleasure which we receive from drink- ing it once or twice a day in our tea, than to encourage the 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 pro- visions; 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 the fleets and armies, which serve to defend and protect the countries that produce it. 112 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. TOLERATION IN OLD ENGLAND AND NEW ENGLAND * SIR, I understand from the public papers, that in the debates on the bill for relieving the Dissenters in the point of subscription to the church articles, sundry reflections were thrown out against that people, import- ing, " that they themselves are of a persecuting, intol- lerant spirit; for that, when they had the superiority, they persecuted the church, and still persecute it in America, where they compel its members to pay taxes for maintaining the Presbyterian or Independent wor- ship, and, at the same time, refuse them a toleration in the full exercise of their religion by the administra- tions of a bishop." If we look back into history for the character of the present sects in Christianity, we shall find few that have not in their turns been persecutors, and complainers of persecution. The primitive Christians thought per- secution extremely wrong in the Pagans, but practised it on one another. The first Protestants of the church of England blamed persecution in the Romish church, but practised it against the Puritans. These found it wrong in the bishops, but fell into the same practice themselves, both here and in New England. To ac- count for this we should remember, that • the doctrine of toleration was not then known, or had not prevailed in the world. Persecution was, therefore, not so much * This piece was first printed in The London Packet, June 3d, 1772, and seems to relate to topics of public interest at that time. — EDITOR. [The spirited writer of the Two Letters to the Prelates, republished it in an appendix to that pamphlet, without, however, naming Dr. Franklin as the author, hut expressing it to be the production of " a gentleman highly respected in the literary world." — B. V.] MISCELLANEOUS. 113 the fault of the sect as of the times. It was not in those days deemed wrong in itself. The general opinion was only, that those who are in error ought not to persecute the truth ; but the possessors of truth were in the right to persecute error, in order to destroy it. Thus every sect, believing itself possessed of all truth, and that every tenet differing from theirs was error, conceived, that, when the power was in their hands, persecution was a duty required of them by that God, whom they supposed to be offended with heresy. By degrees more moderate and more modest sentiments have taken place in the Christian world; and among Protestants, particularly, all disclaim perse- cution, none vindicate it, and but few practise it. We should then cease to reproach each other with what was done by our ancestors, but judge of the present character of sects or churches by their present conduct only. Now, to determine on the justice of this charge against the present Dissenters, particularly those in America, let us consider the following facts. They went from England to establish a new country for themselves, at their own expense, where they might enjoy the free exercise of religion in their own way. When they had purchased the territory of the natives, they granted the lands out in townships, requiring for it neither purchase-money nor quit-rent, but this condition only to be complied with, that the freeholders should for ever support a gospel minister, (meaning probably one of the governing sects,) and a free-school, within the township. Thus what is commonly called Pres- byterianism became the established religion of that country. All went on well in this way while the same religious opinions were general, the support of minister and school being raised by a proportionate tax on the VOL. II. 15 J* 114 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. lands. But, in process of time some becoming Qua- kers,* some Baptists, and, of late years, some returning to the church of England (through the laudable en- deavours, and a proper application^ of their funds, by the Society for Propagating the Gospel), objections were made to the payment of a tax appropriated to the support of a church they disapproved and had forsaken. The civil magistrates, however, continued for a time to collect and apply the tax according to the original laws, which remained in force ; and they did it more freely, as thinking it just and equitable, that the holders of lands should pay what was contracted to be paid when they were granted, as the only consideration for the grant, and what had been considered by all sub- sequent purchasers as a perpetual incumbrance on the estate, bought therefore at a proportionably cheaper rate ; a payment which it was thought no honest man ought to avoid, under the pretence of his having changed his religious persuasion. And this, I suppose, is one of the best grounds of demanding tithes of Dissenters now in England. But the practice being * No person appeared in New England, who professed the opinion of the Quakers, until 1656 ; that is, about thirty-six years after the first settling of the colony ; when Mary Fisher and Ann Austin came from Barbadoes ; and, soon after, nine others arrived in the ship Speedwell from London. They were successful in their preaching ; and the pro- vincial government, wishing to keep the colony free from them, attempted to send away such as they discovered, and prevent the arrival of others. Securities, fines, banishment, imprisonment, and corporal punishments were instituted for this purpose ; but with so little effect, that at last " a law was made for punishing with death, all such as should return into the jurisdiction after banishment A few were hanged." See History of the British Dominions, 4to. 1773, pp. 118, 120. — B. V. f They were to spread the Gospel, and maintain a learned and or- thodox clergy, where ministers were wanted or ill provided ; administer- ing God's word and sacraments, and preventing atheism, infidelity, popery, and idolatry. — B. V. MISCELLANEOUS. 115 clamored against by the Episcopalians as persecution, the legislature of the province of Massachusetts Bay, near thirty years since, passed an act for their relief, requiring indeed the tax to be paid as usual, but directing that the several sums levied from members of the Church of England, should be paid over to the minister of that church, with whom such members usually attended divine worship, which minister had power given him to receive, and on occasion to recover the same by law. It seems that the legislature considered the end of the tax was to secure and improve the morals of the people, and promote their happiness, by supporting among them the public worship of God, and the preaching of the Gospel ; that where particular people fancied a particular mode, that mode might probably, therefore, be of most use to those people ; and that, if the good was done, it was not so material in what mode or by whom it was done. The consideration that their brethren, the Dissenters in England, were still compelled to pay tithes to the clergy of the church, had not weight enough with the legislature to prevent this moderate act, which still continues in full force; and I hope no uncharitable conduct of the church towards the Dissenters will ever provoke them to repeal it. With regard to a bishop, I know not upon what grounds the Dissenters, either here or in America, are charged with refusing the benefit of such an officer to the church in that country. Here they seem to have naturally no concern in the affair. There they have no power to prevent it, if government should think fit to send one. They would probably dislike, indeed, to see an order of men established among them, from whose persecutions their fathers fled into 116 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. that wilderness, and whose future domination they may possibly fear, not knowing that their natures are changed. But the non-appointment of bishops for America seems to arise from another quarter. The same wisdom of government, probably, that prevents the sitting of convocations, and forbids by noli-prosequis the persecution of Dissenters for non-subscription, avoids establishing bishops where the minds of the people are not yet prepared to receive them cordially, lest the public peace should be endangered.* And now let us see how this persecution account stands between the parties. In New England, where the legislative bodies are almost to a man dissenters from the church of Eng- land, 1. There is no test to prevent churchmen from holding offices. 2. The sons of churchmen have the full benefit of the universities. 3. The taxes for support of public worship, when paid by churchmen, are given to the Episcopal minister. In Old England, 1. Dissenters are excluded from all offices of profit and honor. 2. The benefits of education in the universities are appropriated to the sons of churchmen. 3. The clergy of the Dissenters receive none of the tithes paid by their people, who must be at the * No bishops were appointed in America till after the Revolution. Previously to that time the ecclesiastical affairs of the Protestant Epis- copal Church in this country were under the charge of the Bishop of London. At length, in the year 1786, an act of Parliament was passed, empowering English bishops to consecrate to that office persons, who might be subjects or citizens of other countries. In the following year, William White and Samuel Prevost were consecrated at Lambeth Palace, the one as Bishop of Pennsylvania, the other of New York. — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 117 additional charge of maintaining their own separate worship. But it is said, the Dissenters of America oppose the introduction of a bishop. In fact, it is not alone the Dissenters there that give opposition (if not encouraging must be termed oppos- ing}, but the laity in general dislike the project, and some even of the clergy. The inhabitants of Virginia are almost all Episcopalians. The church is fully established there, and the Council and General Assem- bly are perhaps to a man its members; yet, when lately, at a meeting of the clergy, a resolution was taken to apply for a bishop, against which several however protested, the Assembly of the province at their next meeting expressed their disapprobation of the thing in the strongest manner, by unanimously ordering the thanks of the House to the protesters; for many of the American laity of the church think it some advantage, whether their own young men come to England for ordination and improve themselves at the same time with the learned here, or the congregations are supplied by Englishmen, who have had the benefit of education in English universities, and are ordained before they come abroad. They do not, therefore, see the necessity of a bishop merely for ordination, and confirmation is deemed among them a ceremony of no very great importance, since few seek it in England, where bishops are in plenty. These sentiments pre- vail with many churchmen there, not to promote ^ design which they think must sooner or later saddle them with great expenses to support it. As to the Dissenters, their minds might probably be more con- ciliated to the measure, if the bishops here should, in their wisdom and goodness, think fit to set their sacred character in a more friendly light, by dropping their 118 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. opposition to the Dissenters' application for relief in subscription, and declaring their willingness that Dis- senters should be capable of offices, enjoy the benefit of education in the universities, and the privilege of appropriating their tithes to the support of their own clergy. In all these points of toleration they appear far behind the present Dissenters of New England, and it may seem to some a step below the dignity of bishops to follow the example of such inferiors. I do not however despair of their doing it some time or other, since nothing of the kind is too hard for true Christian humility. I am, Sir, yours, &,c. A NEW ENGLAND MAN. A PARABLE AGAINST PERSECUTION, IN IMITATION OF SCRIPTURE LANGUAGE. THIS Parable was printed in the Boston Chronicle, 1768, and six years afterwards in Lord Kames's Sketches of the History of Man. Lord Kames introduced it with the following prefatory remark. " It was communicated to me by Dr. Franklin of Philadelphia, a man who makes a great figure in the learned world ; and who would still make a greater figure for benevolence and candor, were virtue as much re- garded in this declining age as knowledge." From Lord Kames's work it was taken by Mr. Vaughan, and included in his edition of Franklin's writings. From that time it was repeatedly reprinted, and much admired, as illustrating a beautiful moral, and as being a remarkabb imitation of Scripture language. Although Lord Kames does not say, that Dr. Franklin was the author of the Parable, yet, from the manner in which he speaks of it, this inference was naturally drawn; and some degree of surprise was expressed, when the discovery was made, not long afterwards, that there was a similar story in Jeremy Taylor's MISCELLANEOUS. 119 LIBERTY OF PROPHESYING. Curiosity was then excited, as to its real origin, for Taylor vaguely says, that he found it in " the Jews' books." Upon this hint, however, the learned commenced their researches, and the storehouses of Talmudic, Cabalistic, and Rab- binical lore were explored in vain. No such story could be found in any Jewish writing. It was at length discovered in the dedication of a book, which was translated by George Gentius from a Jewish work, and which appeared at Amsterdam in the year 1651. This dedication is written in Latin. The part relating to the Parable was selected and published, without the name of the person who had made the discovery, in The Repository, a British periodical journal, which was issued monthly from the London press. The extract is contained in the number for May, 1788. Considering the importance, which has since been attached to the history of this Parable, it seems not amiss to insert the Latin version of Gentius in this place. " Illustre tradit nobilissinms autor Sadus veneranda? antiquitatis exemplum, Abrahamum patriarcham, hospital itatis gloria celebra- tum, vix sibi felix faustumque credidisse hospitium, nisi externum aliquem, tanquam aliquod prcesidium domi, excepisset hospitem, quern omni officiorum genere coleret. Aliquando, cum hospitem domi non haberet, foris eum quaesiturus campestria petiit. Forte virum quemdam, senectute gravem, itinere fessum, sub arbore re- cumbentem conspicit. " Quern comiter exceptum, domum hospitem deducit, et omni officio colit. Cum coanam appositam Abrahamus et familia ejus a precibus auspicarentur, senex manum ad cibum protendit, nullo religionis aut pietatis auspicio usus. Quo viso, Abrahamus eum ita affatur ; ' Mi senex, vix decet canitiem tuam sine prsevia Numinis veneratione cibum sumere.' Ad quae senex ; ' Ego ignicola sum, istiusmodi morum ignarus ; nostri enim majores nullam talem me docuere pietatem.' Ad quam vocem horrescens Abrahamus rem sibi cum ignicola profano et a sui Numinis cultu alieno esse, eum e vestigio et a coena remotum, ut sui consortii pestem et religionis hostem, domo ejicit. Sed, ecce, Summus Deus Abrahamum statim monet ; ' Quid agis, Abrahame ? Itane vero fecisse te decuit ? Ego isti seni, quantumvis in me usque ingrato, et vitam et victum cen- tum amplius annos dedi ; tu homini nee unam coenam dare, unumque eum momentum ferre potes 1 ' Qua Divina voce moni- tus, Abrahamus senem ex itinere revocatum domum reducit, et tantis officiis, pietate, et ratione colit, ut suo exemplo ad veri Nu- minis cultum eum perduxerit." In the succeeding number of The Repository appeared a com- 120 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. munication relating to this subject, evidently written by a person well acquainted with the character and habits of Dr. Franklin, the drift of which was to show, that he never pretended to have originated the idea of the Parable, that as an imitation it stood on the same ground as those of Pope and other writers, and that in this light it was eminently felicitous and successful. " This great man, who at the same time that he was desirous of disseminating an amiable sentiment, was an extreme lover of pleasantry, often endeavoured to put off the parable in question upon his acquaintance, as a portion of Scripture, and probably thought this one of the most successful modes of circulating its moral. This object would certainly have been defeated, had he prefixed to the printed copies of the Parable, which he was fond of dispersing, an intimation of its author. He therefore gave no name whatever to it, much less his own. And often as I have heard of his amusing himself on this occasion, I never could learn that he ascribed to himself the merit of the invention. His good humor constantly led him into a train of amusing stories concern- ing the persons, who had mistaken it for Scripture, (for he had bound it up as a leaf in his Bible, the better to impose upon them,) which, perhaps, made the point of authorship forgotten. " Indeed, to a man of his magnitude, the accession of fame from this circumstance was too small to make it worth any risk. Arti- fice must rob him of more than it could yield him ; and the gain was temporary, while the injury, from any undue pretension, was as permanent as his own immortal character. He was too wise to think, that the actions of a man like himself could be hid ; or that the accidental researches of literary men would suffer a pla- giarism of this sort to pass undiscovered, or the good nature or busy turn of mankind permit it to be unnoticed after its discovery. I am told that the Parable referred to is quoted or mentioned by Jeremy Taylor, in his Liberty of Prophesying. Possibly Dr. Franklin heard, from some quarter or other, some general and vague account of what has thus repeatedly appeared in print, and improved the idea in the way we have seen; without being able to give it back to its proper parent, and without knowing perhaps that it claimed a parent so learned, as that your erudite corre- spondent has pointed out." More recently it has been found out, that the Parable is of eastern origin. Sadus, quoted by Gentius, is the celebrated Per- sian poet, Saadi ; and in the second book of his " Bostan " this story is contained substantially the same as in Gentius's Dedication. This fact was made known to Bishop Heber by Lord Teignmouth, MISCELLANEOUS. 121 who furnished him with a translation from the Persian into English, which is inserted among the notes to Heber's Life of Jeremy Taylor. It is worthy of notice, that Saadi relates the story not as his own, but as hav.'ng been told to him. Thus its fountain re- mains yet to be ascertained. Franklin's version was imperfectly printed from Lord Kames's copy, whether designedly or by mistake is not known. The division into verses was not observed, and all that follows the eleventh verse was omitted. Mr. Vaughan restored the deficient verses in the CORRIGENDA to his edition, since which the Parable has usually been printed entire, although there are slight verbal differences in several of the impressions. — EDITOR. 1. And it came to pass after these things, that Abra- ham sat in the door of his tent, about the going down of the sun. 2. And behold a man, bowed with age, came from the way of the wilderness, leaning on a staff. 3. And Abraham arose and met him, and said unto him, " Turn in, I pray thee, and wash thy feet, and tarry all night, and thou shalt arise early on the mor- row, and go on thy way." 4. But the man said, "Nay, for I will abide under this tree." 5. And Abraham pressed him greatly ; so he turned, and they went into the tent, and Abraham baked un- leavened bread, and they did eat. 6. And when Abraham saw that the man blessed not God, he said unto him, " Wherefore dost thou not worship the most high God, Creator of heaven and earth ? " 7. And the man answered and said, " I do not worship the God thou speakest of, neither do I call upon his name; for I have made to myself a god, which abideth alway in mine house, and provideth me with all things." VOL. II. 16 K 122 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 8. And Abraham's zeal was kindled against the man, and he arose and fell upon him, and drove him forth with blows into the wilderness. 9. And at midnight God called unto Abraham, say- ing, "Abraham, where is the stranger?" 10. And Abraham answered and said, "Lord, he would not worship thee, neither would he call upon thy name ; therefore have I driven him out from before my face into the wilderness." 11. And God said, "Have I borne with him these hundred ninety and eight years, and nourished him, and clothed him, notwithstanding his rebellion against me; and couldst not thou, that art thyself a sinner, bear with him one night?" 12. And Abraham said, "Let not the anger of the Lord wax hot against his servant; lo, I have sinned; lo, I have sinned; forgive me, I pray thee." 13. And Abraham arose, and went forth into the wilderness, and sought diligently for the man, and found him, and returned with him to the tent; and when he had entreated him kindly, he sent him away on the morrow with gifts. 14. And God spake again unto Abraham, saying, " For this thy sin shall thy seed be afflicted four hun- dred years in a strange land; 15. "But for thy repentance will I deliver them; and they shall come forth with power, and with glad- ness of heart, and with much substance." * * On the subject of this Parable, see also a letter from Dr. Franklin to Mr. Vaughan, dated November 2d, 1789, in which the author says, that he never published it, " nor claimed any other credit from it, than >vhat related to the style, and the addition of the concluding threatening and promise." — EDITOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 123 A PARABLE ON BROTHERLY LOVE. 1. IN those days there was no worker of iron in all the land. And the merchants of Midian passed by with their camels, bearing spices, and myrrh, and balm, and wares of iron. 2. And Reuben bought an axe of the Ishmaelite merchants, which he prized highly, for there was none in his father's house. 3. And Simeon said unto Reuben his brother, " Lend me, I pray thee, thine axe." But he refused, and would not. 4. And Levi also said unto him, " My brother, lend me, I pray thee, thine axe ; " and he refused him also. 5. Then came Judah unto Reuben, and entreated him, saying, "Lo, thou lovest me, and I have always loved thee ; do not refuse me the use of thine axe." 6. But Reuben turned from him, and refused him likewise. 7. Now it came to pass, that Reuben hewed timber on the bank of the river, and his axe fell therein, and he could by no means find it. 8. But Simeon, Levi, and Judah had sent a mes- senger after the Ishmaelites with money, and had bought for themselves each an axe. 9. Then came Reuben unto Simeon, and said, " Lo, I have lost mine axe, and my work is unfinished ; lend me thine, I pray thee." 1 0. And Simeon answered him, saying, " Thou wouldest not lend me thine axe, therefore will I not lend thee mine." 11. Then went he unto Levi, and said unto him, "My brother, thou knowest my loss and my neces- sity; lend me, I pray thee, thine axe." 124 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 12. And Levi reproached him, saying, " Thou wouldest not lend me thine axe when I desired it, but I will be better than thou, and will lend thee mine." 13.' And Reuben was grieved at the rebuke of Levi, and being ashamed, turned from him, and took not the axe, but sought his brother Judah. 14. And as he drew near, Judah beheld his coun- tenance as it were covered with grief and shame ; and he prevented him, saying, "My brother, I know thy loss; but why should it trouble thee? Lo, have I not an axe that will serve both thee and me? Take it, I pray thee, and use it as thine own." 15. And Reuben fell on his neck, and kissed him, with tears, saying, "Thy kindness is great, but thy goodness hi forgiving me is greater. Thou art indeed my brother, and whilst I live, will I surely love thee." 1 6. And Judah said, " Let us also love our other brethren; behold, are we not all of one blood?" 17. And Joseph saw these things, and reported them to his father Jacob. 18 And Jacob said, "Reuben did wrong, but he repented. Simeon also did wrong ; and Levi was not altogether blameless. 19. "But the heart of Judah is princely. Judah hath the soul of a king. His father's children shall bow down before him, and he shall rule over his brethren." MISCELLANEOUS. 125 SKETCH OP 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 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 Croxall's Fables, and little stories. In giving the lesson, let it be read to them ; let the mean- is* 126 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. ing 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 the subject. Some short pieces, not exceeding the length of a Spectator, to be given this class for lessons, (and some of the easier Spectators would be very suitable for the purpose.) These lessons might be given every night as tasks, the scholars to study them against the morn- ing. Let it then be required of them to give an ac- count, first, of the parts of speech, and construction of one or two sentences. This will oblige them to recur frequently to their Grammar, and fix its 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 ac- quaint them with the meanbg 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 MISCELLANEOUS. 127 modulations of voice, due emphasis, and suitable action, where action is required; and put the youth on imi- tating 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 speech to his soldiers, a speech in a tragedy, some part of a comedy, an ode, a satire, a letter, blank verse, Hudibrastic, 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 under- stand the lessons, before they are put upon reading them properly ; to which end each boy should have an English dictionary, to help him over difficulties. When our boys read English to us, we are apt to imagine they understand what they read, because we do, and because it is their mother tongue. But they often read, as parrots speak, knowing little or nothing of the meaning. And it is impossible a reader should give the due modulation to his voice, and pronounce prop- erly, 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 128 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 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 akin 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 account 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 tragedies and comedies (avoiding every thing that could injure the morals of youth) might likewise be got by rote, and the boys exercised in delivering or acting them; great care being taken to form their manner after the truest models. For their further 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, week- ly, little prizes, or other small encouragements, to those who are able to give the best account of what they have read, as to time, places, names of persons, &c. MISCELLANEOUS. 129 This will make them read with attention, and imprint the history well in their memories. In remarking on the history, the master will have fine opportunities of 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 begun in this class, and continued through the subsequent classes, by other books of the same kind; for, next to the knowledge of duty, this kind of knowledge is certainly the most useful, as well as the most entertaining. The merchant may thereby be enabled better to understand many commodities in trade; the handicraftsman to improve his business, by new instruments, mixtures, and materials ; and frequently hints are given for new manufactures, or new methods of improving land, that may be set on foot greatly to the advantage of a country. THE FOURTH CLASS To be taught composition. Writing one's own lan- guage well is the next necessary accomplishment after good speaking. It is the WTiting-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, ac- counts of their late reading, what parts of authors please them, and why; letters of congratulation, of compliment, of request, of thanks, of recommenda- tion, of admonition, of consolation, of expostulation, ex- cuse, &c. In these they should be taught to express VOL. II. 17 130 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. themselves clearly, concisely, and naturally, without af- fected 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 tran- scribed 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 now, at proper hours, receive some further instruction in chro- nology, and in that part of geography (from the mathe- matical master), which is necessary to understand the maps and globes. They should also be acquainted with the modern names of the places they find men- tioned in ancient writers. The exercises of good read- ing, 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 neces- sity of finding such words and phrases as will suit the measure, sound, and rhyme 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 MISCELLANEOUS. 131 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 more closely. And now let Dr. Johnson's Metica, or First Principles of Human Knowledge, containing a logic, or art of rea- soning, &,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 read- ing and just speaking, still continued. 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 Cyrus, &,c. Once a year let there be public exercises in the hall, the trustees and citizens present. Then let fine gilt books be given as prizes to such boys as distinguish themselves and excel the others in any branch of learning, making three degrees of compari- son ; 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, en- couragement, and advice to the rest ; keeping up their hopes, that by industry they may excel another time. The names of those that obtain the prize to be yearly printed in a list. 132 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. The hours of each day are to be divided and dis- posed in such a manner, as that some classes may be with the writing-master, improving their hands ; others with the mathematical master, learning arithmetic, ac- counts, geography, use of the globes, drawing, me- chanics, &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, though unacquainted with any ancient or foreign tongue, they will be masters of their own, which is of more immediate and general use, and withal will have attained many other valuable 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 im- proved, may qualify them to pass through and execute the several offices of civil life, with advantage and reputation to themselves and country. MISCELLANEOUS. 133 OBSERVATIONS RELATIVE TO THE INTENTIONS OF THE ORIGINAL FOUNDERS OF THE ACADEMY IN PHILADELPHIA. JUNE, 1789. As the English school in the Academy has been, and still continues to be, a subject of dispute and discus- sion among the trustees since the restitution of the charter, and it has been proposed that we should have some regard to the original intention of the founders hi establishing that school, I beg leave, for your informa- tion, to lay before you what I know of that matter originally, and what I find on the minutes relating to it, by which it will appear how far the design of that school has been adhered to or neglected. Having acquired some little reputation among my fellow -citizens, by projecting the public library in 1732, and obtaining the subscriptions by which it was estab- lished ; and by proposing and promoting, with success, sundry other schemes of utility in 1749 ; I was en- couraged to hazard another project, that of a public education for our youth. As in the scheme of the library I had provided only for English books, so in this new scheme my icfeas went no further than to procure the means of a good English education. A number of my friends, to whom I communicated the proposal, concurred with me in these ideas; but Mr. Allen, Mr. Francis, Mr. Peters, and some other persons of wealth and learning, whose subscriptions and coun- tenance we should need, being of opinion that it ought to include the learned languages, I submitted my judgment to theirs, retaining however a strong pre- possession in favor of my first plan, and resolving to VOL. II. L 134 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. preserve as much of it as I could, and to nourish the English school by every means in my power. Before I went about to procure subscriptions, I thought it proper to prepare the minds of the people by a pamphlet, which I wrote, and printed, and dis- tributed with my newspapers gratis. The title was, Proposals relating to the Education of Youth in Penn- sylvania. I happen to have preserved one of them ; and, by reading a few passages, it will appear how much the English learning was insisted upon in it; and I had good reasons to know that this was a pre- vailing part of the motives for subscribing with most of the original benefactors.* I met with but few * That the Rector be a man of good understanding, good morals, diligent and patient, learned in the languages and sciences, and a correct, pure speaker and writer of the English tongue ; to have such tutors under him as shall be necessary. The English language might be taught by grammar ; in which some of our best writers, as Tillotson, Addison, Pope, Algernon Sidney, Cato's Letters, &c. should be classics ; the styles principally to be cultivated being the dear and the concise. Reading should also be taught, and pronouncing properly, distinctly, emphatically ; not with an even tone, which under-does, nor a theatrical, which over-does nature. Mr. Locke, speaking of Grammar, (p. 252,) says, that " To those, the greatest part of whose business in this world is to be done with their tongue, and with their pens, it is convenient, if not necessary, that they should speak properly and correctly, whereby they may let their thoughts into other men's minds the more easily, and with the greater impression. Upon this account it is, that any sort of speaking, so as will make him be understood, is not thought enough for a gentleman. He ought to study grammar, among the other helps of spealdng well ; but it must be the grammar of his own tongue, of the language he uses, that he may understand his own country speech nicely, and speak it properly, without shocking the ears of those it is addressed to with solecisms and offensive irregularities. And to this purpose grammar is necessary ; but it is the grammar only of their own proper tongues, and to those who would take pains in cultivating their language, and perfecting their styles. Whether all gentlemen should not do this, I leave to be considered ; since the want of propriety and grammatical exactness is thought very misbecoming one of that rank, and usually draws on one, guilty of such faults, the imputation of having had a lower breeding and worse company than suit with his quality. If this be so, (as I suppose it is,) it will be matter of MISCELLANEOUS. 135 refusals in soliciting the subscriptions ; and the sum was the more considerable, as I had put the contribution on this footing, that it was not to be immediate, and the whole paid at once, but in parts, a fifth annually during wonder, why young gentlemen are forced to learn the grammars of foreign and dead languages, and are never once told of the grammar of their own tongues. They do not so much as know there is any such thing, much less is it made their business to be instructed in it Nor is their own language ever proposed to them as worthy their care and cultivating, though they have daily use of it, and are not seldom in the future course of their lives judged of by their handsome or awkward way of express- ing themselves in it. Whereas the languages, whose grammars they have been so much employed in, are such as probably they shall scarce ever speak or write ; or, if upon occasion this should happen, they should be excused for the mistakes and faults they make in it. Would not a Chinese, who took notice of this way of breeding, be apt to imagine, that all our young gentlemen were designed to be teachers and professors of the dead languages of foreign countries, and not to be men of business in their own?" The same author adds, (p. 255,) " That if grammar ought to be taught at any time, it must be to one that can speak the language already ; how else can he be taught the grammar of it ? This at least is evident from the practice of the wise and learned nations among the ancients. They made it a part of education, to cultivate their oivn, not foreign tongues. The Greeks counted all other nations barbarous, and had a contempt for their languages. And though the Greek learning grew in credit among the Romans towards the end of their commonwealth, yet it was the Roman tongue that was made the study of their youth. Their own language they were to make use of, and therefore it was their own language they were instructed and exercised in." And, (p. 281,) " There can scarce be a greater defect," says he, " in a gentleman, than not to express himself well either in writing or speaking. But yet I think 1 may ask the reader, whether he doth not know a great many, who live upon their estates, and so, with the name, should have the qualities of gentlemen, who cannot so much as tell a story as they should, much less speak clearly and persuasively in any business. This I think not to be so much their fault as the fault of their education" Thus far Locke. Monsieur Rollin reckons the neglect of teaching their own tongue a great fault in the French universities. He spends great part of his first volume of Belles Lettres on that subject ; and lays down some excellent rules or methods of teaching French to Frenchmen grammatically, and making them masters therein, which are very applicable to our language, but too long to be inserted here. He practised them on the youth under his care with great success. 136 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. five years. To put ihe machine in motion, twenty- four of the principal subscribers agreed to take upon themselves the trust; and a set of constitutions for their government, and for the regulation of the schools, Mr. Hutchinson, (Dial. p. 297,) says, " To perfect them in the knowl- edge of their mother tongue, they should learn it in the grammatical way, that they not only speak it purely, but be able both to correct their own idiom, and afterwards enrich the language on the same foundation." Dr. Turnbull, in his Observations on a Liberal Education, says, (p. 262.) "The Greeks, perhaps, made more early advances in the most useful sciences than any youth have done since, chiefly on this account, that they studied no other language but their own. This, no doubt, saved them very much time ; but they applied themselves carefully to the study of their own language, and were early able to speak and write it in the greatest perfection. The Roman youth, though they learned the Greek, did not neglect their own tongue, but studied it more carefully than we now do Greek and Latin, without giving ourselves any trouble about our own tongue." Monsieur Simon, in an elegant Discourse of his among the Memoirs of the Academy of Belles Lettres at Paris, speaking of the stress the Romans laid on purity of language and graceful pronunciation, adds, " May I here make a reflection on the education we commonly give our children ? It is very remote from the precepts I have mentioned. Hath the child arrived to six or seven years of age, he mixes with a herd of ill-bred boys at school, where, under the pretext of teaching him Latin, no regard is had to his mother tongue. And what happens ? What we see every day. A young gentleman of eighteen, who has had this education, cannot read. For to articulate the words, and join them together, I do not call reading, unless one can pronounce well, observe all the proper stops, vary the voice, express the sentiment, and read with a delicate intelligence. Nor can he speak a jot better. A proof of this is, that he cannot write ten lines without committing gross faults ; and, because he did not learn his own language well in lu's early years, he will never know it well. I except a few, who, being afterwards en- gaged by their profession, or their natural taste, cultivate their minds by study. And yet even they, if they attempt to write, will find by the labor composition costs them, what a loss it is, not to have learned their language in the proper season. Education among the Romans was upon a quite different footing. Masters of rhetoric taught them early the principles, the difficulties, the beauties, the subtilties, the depths, the riches of their own language. When they went from these schools, they were perfect masters of it, they were never at a loss for proper expres- sions ; and I am much deceived if it was not owing to this, that they produced such excellent works with so marvellous facility." Pliny, in his letter to a lady on choosing a tutor for her son, speaks MISCELLANEOUS. 137 were drawn up by Mr. Francis and myself, which were signed by us all, and printed, that the public might know what was to be expected. I wrote also a paper, entitled, Idea of an English School, which of it as the most material thing in his education, that he should have a good Latin master of rhetoric, and recommends Julius Genitor for. his eloquent, open, and plain faculty of speaking. He does not advise her to a Greek master of rhetoric, though the Greeks were famous for that science ; but to a Latin master, because Latin was the boy's mother tongue. In the above quotation from Monsieur Simon, we see what was the office and duty of the master of rhetoric. To form their style, they should be put on writing letters to each other, making abstracts of what they read ; or writing the same things in their own words ; telling or writing stories lately read, in their own expressions. All to be revised and corrected by the tutor, who should give his reasons, explain the force and import of words, &c. This Mr. Locke recommends, (Educ. p. 284,) and says ; " The writing of letters has so much to do in all the occurrences of human life, that no gentleman can avoid showing himself in this kind of writing. Occa- sions will daily force him to make this use of his pen, which, besides the consequence that, in his affairs, the well or ill managing it often draws after it, always lays him open to a severer examination of his breeding, sense, and abilities, than oral discourses, whose transient faults, dying for the most part with the sound that gives them life, and so not subject to a strict review, more easily escape observation and censure." He adds ; " Had the methods of education been directed to their right end, one would have thought this so necessary a part could not have been neglected, whilst themes and verses in Latin, of no use at all, were so constantly everywhere pressed, to the racking of children's invention beyond their strength, and hindering their cheerful progress by unnatural difficulties. But custom has so ordained it, and who dares disobey ? And would it not be very unreasonable to require of a learned country-school- master (who has all the tropes and figures in Farnaby's Rhetoric at his fingers' ends) to teach his scholar to express hinself handsomely in English, when it appears to be so little his business or thought, that the boy's mother (despised, 'tis like, as illiterate for not having read a system of logic or rhetoric) outdoes him in it ? " To speak and write correctly gives a grace, and gains a favorable attention to what one has to say. And since 'tis English that an English- man will have constant use of, that is the language he should chiefly cultivate, and wherein most care should be taken to polish and perfect his style. To speak or write better Latin than English may make a man be talked of; but he will find it more to his purpose to express himself well in his own tongue, that he uses every moment, than to have the vain commendations of others for a very insignificant quality. This I find VOL. II. 18 L* 138 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. was printed, and afterwards annexed to Mr. Peters' Sermon, preached at the opening of the Academy. This paper was said to be for the consideration of the trustees ; and the expectation of the public, that universally neglected, nor no care taken anywhere to improve young men. in their own language, that they may thoroughly understand and be masters of it. If any one among us have a facility or purity more than ordinary in his mother tongue, it is owing to chance, or his genius, or any thing, rather than to his education or any care of his teacher. To mind what English his pupil speaks or writes, is below the dignity of one bred up among Greek and Latin, though he have but little of them himself. These are the learned languages, fit only for learned men to meddle with and teach ; English is the language of the illiterate vulgar. Though the great men among the Romans were daily exercising them- selves in their own language ; and we find yet upon the record the names of orators who taught some of their Emperors Latin, though it were their mother tongue. T is plain the Greeks were yet more nice in theirs. All other speech was barbarous to them but their own, and no foreign language appears to have been studied or valued amongst that learned and acute people ; though it be past doubt that they borrowed their learning and philosophy from abroad." To the same purpose writes a person of eminent learning in a letter to Dr. Turnbull. " Nothing, certainly," says he, " can be of more service to mankind than a right method of educating the youth, and I should be glad to hear to give an example of the great advantage it would be to the rising age, and to our nation. When our public schools were first established, the knowledge of Latin was thought learning ; and he that had a tolerable skill in two or three languages, though his mind was not enlightened by any real knowledge, was a profound scholar. But it is not so at present ; and people confess, that men may have obtained a perfection in these, and yet continue deeply ignorant. The. Greek educa- tion was of another kind," (which he describes in several particulars, and adds,) " they studied to write their own tongue more accurately than we do Latin and Greek. But where is English taught at present ? Who thinks it of use to study correctly that language which he is to use every day in his life, be his station ever so high, or ever so insignificant. It is in this the nobility and gentry defend their country, and serve their prince in parliament ; in this the lawyers plead, the divines instruct, and all ranks of people write their letters, and transact all their affairs ; and yet who thinks it worth his learning to write this even accurately, not to say politely ? Every one is suffered to form his style by chance ; to imitate the first wretched model which falls in his way, before he knows what is faulty, or can relish the beauties of a just simplicity. Few think their children qualified for a trade till they have been whipt at a Latin school for five or six years, to learn a little of that which they are MISCELLANEOUS. 139 the idea might in a great measure be carried into exe- cution, contributed to render the subscriptions more liberal as well as more general. I mention my con- cern in these transactions, to show the opportunity I had of being well informed in the points I am relating. These constitutions are upon record in your minutes ; and, although the Latin and Greek are by them to be taught, the original idea of a complete English educa- tion was not forgotten, as will appear by the following extracts. Page 1. "The English tongue is to be taught gram- matically, and as a language." Page 4. In reciting the qualification of the person to be appointed rector, it is said, " that great regard is to be had to his polite speaking, tenting, and tinder- standing the English tongue" " The rector was to have two hundred pounds a year, for which he was to be obliged to teach twenty boys, without any assistance, (and twenty-five more for every usher provided for him,) the Latin and Greek languages ; and at the same time instruct them in history, geography, chronology, logic, rhetoric, and the English tongue" " The rector was also, on all occasions consistent obliged to forget ; when in those years right education would have unproved their minds, and taught them to acquire habits of writing their own language easily under right direction ; and this would have been useful to them as long as they lived." — Introd. pp. 3-5. To form their pronunciation, they may be put on making declamations, repeating speeches, delivering orations, &c. ; the tutor assisting at the rehearsals, teaching, advising, correcting their accent, &c. By pronun- ciation is here meant, the proper modulation of the voice, to suit the subject with due emphasis, action, &c. In delivering a discourse in public, designed to persuade, the manner, perhaps, contributes more to success, than either the matter or method. Yet the two latter seem to engross the attention of most preachers and other public speakers, and the former to be almost totally neglected. 140 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. with his duty in the Latin school, to assist the English master in improving the youth under his care" Page 5. "The trustees shall, with all convenient speed, contract with any person that offers, whom they shall judge most capable of teaching the English tongue grammatically and as a language, history, geography, chronology, logic, and oratory; which person shall be styled the English master" The English master was to have one hundred pounds a year, for which he was to teach, without any assist- ance, forty scholars the English tongue grammatically ; and at the same time instruct them in history, geogra- phy, chronology, logic, and oratory ; and sixty scholars more for every usher provided for him. It is to be observed in this place, that here are two distinct courses in the same study, that is, of the same branches of science, viz. history, geography, chronology, logic, and oratory, to be carried on at the same time, but not by the same tutor or master. The English master is to teach his scholars all those branches of science, and also the English tongue grammatically, as a language. The Latin master is to teach the same sciences to his boys, besides the Greek and Latin. He was also to assist the English master occasionally, without which, and his general care in the government of the schools, the giving him double salary seems not well accounted for. But here are plainly two distinct schools or courses of education provided for. The Latin master was not to teach the English scholars logic, rhetoric, &,c. ; that was the duty of the English master; but he was to teach those sciences to the Latin scholars. We shall see, hereafter, how easily this original plan was defeated and departed from. When the constitutions were first drawn, blanks MISCELLANEOUS. 141 were left for the salaries, and for the number of boys the Latin master was to teach. The first instance of partiality, in favor of the Latin part of the institution, was in giving the title of rector to the Latin master, and no title to the English one. But the most striking instance was, when we met to sign, and the blanks were first to be filled up, the votes of a majority earned it to give twice as much salary to the Latin master as to the English, and yet require twice as much duty from the English master as from the Latin, viz. 200/. to the Latin master to teach twenty boys; 100/. to the English master to teach forty ! However, the trustees who voted these salaries being themselves by far the greatest subscribers, though not the most nu- merous, it was thought they had a kind of right to predominate in money matters; and those, who had wished an equal regard might have been shown to both schools, submitted, though not without regret, and at times some little complaining, which, with their not being able in nine months to find a proper person for English master, who would undertake the office for so low a salary, induced the trustees at length, viz. in July, 1750, to offer 50/. more. Another instance of the partiality above mentioned was in the March preceding, when 100/. sterling was voted to buy Latin and Greek books, maps, drafts, and instruments for the use of the Academy, and nothing for the English books. The great part of the subscribers, who had the English education chiefly in view, were however soothed into a submission to these partialities, chiefly by the expectation given them by the constitution, viz. that the trustees would make it their pleasure, and in some degree their business, to visit the Academy often, to encourage and countenance the youth, look on the 142 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 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, the trustees shall zealously unite, and make all the interest that can be made, to pro- mote and establish them, whether in business, offices, marriages, or any other thing for their advantage, pre- ferable to all other persons whatsoever, even of equal merit. These splendid promises dazzled the eyes of the public. The trustees were most of them the principal gentlemen of the province. Children taught in other schools had no reason to expect such powerful patron- age. The subscribers had placed such entire con- fidence in them as to leave themselves no power of changing them, if their conduct of the plan should be disapproved; and so, in hopes of the best, all these partialities were submitted to. Near a year passed before a proper person was found to take charge of the English school. At length Mr. Dove, who had been many years master of a school in England, and had come hither with an apparatus for giving lectures in experimental philosophy, was pre- vailed with by me, after his lectures were finished, to accept that employment for the salary offered, though he thought it too scanty. He had a good voice, read perfectly well, with proper accent and just pronuncia- tion, and his method of communicating habits of the same kind to his pupils was this. When he gave a lesson to one of them, he always first read it to him aloud, with all the different modulations of voice, that the subject and sense required. These the scholars, in studying and repeating the lesson, naturally endeav- oured to imitate; and it was really surprising to see how soon they caught his manner, which convinced MISCELLANEOUS. 143 me and others who frequently attended his school, that, though bad tones and manners in reading are, when once acquired, rarely, with difficulty, if ever cured, yet, when none have been already formed, good ones are as easily learned as bad. In a few weeks after open- ing his school, the trustees were invited to hear the scholars read and recite. The parents and relations of the boys also attended. The performances were surprisingly good, and of course were admired and applauded ; and the English school thereby acquired such reputation, that the number of Mr. Dove's scholars soon amounted to upwards of ninety, which number did not diminish as long as he continued master, viz. upwards of two years ; but, he finding the salary in- sufficient, and having set up a school for girls in his own house to supply the deficiency, and quitting the boys' school somewhat before the hour to attend the girls, the trustees disapproved of his so doing, and he quitted their employment, continued his girls' school, and opened one for boys on his own account. The trustees provided another English master; but, though a good man, yet not possessing the talents of an English schoolmaster in the same perfection with Mr. Dove, the school diminished daily, and soon was found to have but about forty scholars left. The perform- ances of the boys, in reading and speaking, were no longer so brilliant ; the trustees of course had not the same pleasure in hearing them, and the monthly visita- tions, which had so long afforded a delightful enter- tainment to large audiences, became less and less attended, and at length discontinued ; and the English school has never since recovered its original reputation. Thus, by our injudiciously starving the English part of our scheme of education, we only saved fifty pounds a year, which was required as an additional salary to 144 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. an acknowledged excellent English master, which would have equalled his encouragement to that of the Latin master; I say, by saving the 50/. we lost fifty scholars, which would have been 200/. a year, and defeated, besides, one great end of the institution. In the mean time our favors were showered upon the Latin part ; the number of teachers was increased, and their salaries from time to time augmented, till, if I mistake not, they amounted in the whole to more than 600/. a year, though the scholars hardly ever exceeded sixty; so that each scholar cost the funds 10/. per annum, while he paid but 4/., which was a loss of 61. every one of them. The monthly visitations of the schools by the trustees having been long neglected, the omission was com- plained of by the parents as a breach of original prom- ise; whereupon the trustees, July llth, 1755, made it a law, that " they should meet on the second Tuesday in every month at the Academy, to visit the schools, examine the scholars, hear their public exercises, &c." This good law, however, like many others, was not long observed; for I find by a minute of December 14th, 1756, that the examination of the schools by the trustees had been long neglected, and it was agreed that it should thereafter be done on the first Monday in every month; and yet, notwithstanding this new rule, the neglect returned, so that we are informed, by another minute of January 13th, 1761, "that for five months past there had not been one meeting of the trustees." In the course of fourteen years several of the original trustees, who had been disposed to favor the English school, deceased, and others not so favor- able were chosen to supply their places ; however, it appears by the minutes, that the remainder had some- times weight enough to recall the attention of their MISCELLANEOUS. 145 colleagues to that school, and obtain acknowledgments of the unjust neglect it had been treated with ; of this the following extracts from the minutes are authentic proofs, viz. (Minute Book, Vol. I., February 8th, 1763;) " The state of the English school was taken into con- sideration, and it was observed, that Mr. Kinnersley's time was entirely taken up in teaching little boys the elements of the English language (this is what it dwindled into, a school similar to those kept by old women, who teach children their letters); and that speaking and rehearsing in public were totally disused, to the great prejudice of the other scholars and stu- dents, and contrary to the original design of the trustees in the forming of that school ; and, as this was a matter of great importance, it was particularly recommended to be fully considered by the trustees at their next meeting." At their next meeting it was not considered ; but this minute contains full proof of the fact, that the English education had been neglected, and it contains an acknowledgment that the conduct of the English school was contrary to the original design of the trustees in forming it. In the same book of minutes we find the following, of April 12th, 1763. "The state of the English school was again taken into consideration; and it was the opinion of the trustees that the ORIGINAL DESIGN should be prosecuted, of teaching the scholars (of that and the other schools) the elegance of the English language, and giving them a proper pronunciation ; and that the old method of hearing them read and repeat in public should be again used. And a committee was appointed to confer with Mr. Kinnersley how this might best be done, as well as what assistance would be necessary to give Mr. Kinnersley to enable him to VOL. II. 19 M 146 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. attend this necessary service, which was indeed the PROPER BUSINESS of his professorship." In this minute we have another acknowledgment of what was the original design of the English school; but here are some words thrown in to countenance an innovation, which had been for some time practised. The words are, "and the other schools." Originally, by the constitutions, the rector was to teach the Latin scholars their English. The words of the constitution are, " The rector shall be obliged, without the assistance of any usher, to teach twenty scholars the Latin and Greek languages, and the English tongue." To en- able him to do this, we have seen that some of his qualifications, indispensably required, were, his polite speaking, writing, and understanding the English tongue. Having these, he was enjoined, on all occasions con- sistent with his other duties, to assist the English master in improving the boys under his care; but there is not a word obliging the English master to teach the Latin boys English. However, the Latin masters, either unable to do it, or unwilling to take the trouble, had got him up among them, and employed s© much of his time, that this minute owns he could not, without farther assistance, attend the necessary service of his own school, which, as the minute ex- pressly says, " was indeed the proper business of his professorship." Notwithstanding this good resolution of the trustees, it seems the execution of it was neglected ; and, the public not being satisfied, they were again haunted by the friends of the children with the old complaint, that the original constitutions were not complied with, in regard to the English school. Their situation was unpleasant. On the one hand, there were still remain- MISCELLANEOUS. 147 ing some of the first trustees, who were friends to the scheme of English education, and these would now and then be remarking that it was neglected, and would be moving for a reformation; the constitutions at the same time, staring the trustees in the face, gave weight to these remarks. On the other hand, the Latinists were combined to decry the English school as useless. It was without example, they said, as indeed they still say, that a school for teaching the vulgar tongue, and the sciences in that tongue, was ever joined with a college, and that the Latin masters were fully competent to teach the English. I will not say that the Latinists looked on every expense upon the English school as so far disabling the trustees from augmenting their salaries, and there- fore regarding it with an evil eye ; but, when I find the minutes constantly filled with their applications for higher wages, I cannot but see their great regard for money matters, and suspect a little their using their interest and influence to prevail with the trustees net to encourage that school. And, indeed, the following minute is so different in spirit and sentiment from that last recited, that one cannot avoid concluding that some extraordinary pains must have been taken with the trustees between the two meetings of April 12th and June 13th, to produce a resolution so very different, which here follows in this minute, viz. "June 13th, 1763 ; Some of the parents of the children in the Academy having complained that their children were not taught to speak and read in public, and having requested that this useful part of education might be more attended to, Mr. Kinnersley was called in, and desired to give an account of what was done in this branch of his duty ; and he declared that this was well taught, not only in the English school, which was more immediately 148 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. under his care, but in the philosophy classes, regularly every Monday afternoon, and as often at other times as his other business would permit. And it not appearing to the trustees that any more could at present be done, without partiality and great inconvenience, and that this was all that was ever proposed to be done, they did not incline to make any alteration, or to lay any farther burthen on Mr. Kinnersley." Note here, that the English school had not for some years preceding been visited by the trustees. If it had, they would have known the state of it without making this inquiry of the master. They might have judged, whether the children more immediately under his care were in truth well taught, without taking his word for it, as it appears they did. But it seems he had a merit, which, when he pleaded it, effectually excused him. He spent his time when out of the English school in instructing the philosophy classes who were of the Latin part of the institution. Therefore they did not think proper to lay any further burthen upon him. It is a little difficult to conceive how these trustees could bring themselves to declare, that " No more could be done in the English school than was then done, and that it was all that was ever proposed to be done ;" when their preceding minute declares, that " the origi- nal design was teaching scholars the elegance of the English language, and giving them a proper pronun- ciation; and that hearing them read and repeat in public was the old method, and should be again used." And, certainly, the method that had been used might be again used, if the trustees had thought fit to order Mr. Kinnersley to attend his own school, and not spend his time in the philosophy classes, where his duty did not require his attendance. What the apprehended partiality was, which the minute mentions, does not MISCELLANEOUS. 149 appear, and cannot easily be imagined ; and the great inconvenience of obliging him to attend his own school could only be depriving the Latinists of his assistance, to which they had no right. The trustees may possibly have supposed, that by this resolution they had precluded all future attempts to trouble them with respect to their conduct of the English school. The parents indeed, despairing of any reformation, withdrew their children, and placed them in private schools, of which several now appeared in the city, professing to teach what had been promised to be taught in the Academy; and they have since flourished and increased by the scholars the Academy might have had, if it had performed its engagements. But the public was not satisfied ; and we find, five years after, the English school appearing again, after five years' silence, haunting the trustees like an evil conscience, and reminding them of their failure in duty. For, of their meetings Jan. 19th and 26th, 1768, we find these minutes. "Jan. 19th, 1768; It having been re- marked, that the schools suffer in the public esteem by the discontinuance of public speaking, a special meeting is to be called on Tuesday next, to consider the state of the English school, and to regulate such matters as may be necessary." " Jan. 26th ; A special meeting. It is agreed to give Mr. Jon. Easton and Mr. Thomas Hall, at the rate of twenty-five pounds per annum each, for assisting Mr. Kinnersley in the English school, and taking care of the same when he shall be employed in teaching the students, in the phi- losophy classes and grammar school, the art of public speaking. A committee, Mr. Peters, Mr. Coxe, and Mr. Duche, with the masters, was appointed to fix rules and times for employing the youth in public speaking. Mr. Easton and Mr. Hall are to be paid 150 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. out of a fund to be raised by some public performance for the benefit of the college." It appears from these minutes, 1. That the reputation of the Academy had suffered in the public esteem by the trustees' neglect of that school. 2. That Mr. Kinnersley, whose sole business it was to attend it, had been called from his duty and employed in the phi- losophy classes and Latin grammar school, teaching the scholars there the art of public speaking, which the Latinists used to boast they could teach themselves. 3. That the neglect for so many years of the English scholars, by this subtraction of their master, was now acknowledged, and proposed to be remedied for the future by engaging two persons, Mr. Hall and Mr. Easton, at twenty-five pounds per annum, to take care of those scholars, while Mr. Kinnersley was employed among the Latinists. Care was however taken by the trustees, not to be at any expense for this assistance to Mr. Kinnersley ; for Hall and Easton were only to be paid out of the uncertain fund of money to be raised by some public performance for the benefit of the college. A committee was however now appointed to fix rules and times for employing the youth in public speaking. Whether any thing was done in consequence of these minutes, does not appear; no report of the committee respecting their doings being to be found on the records, and the probability is that they did, as hereto- fore, nothing to the purpose. For the English school continued to decline, and the first subsequent mention we find made of it, is in the minute of March 21st, 1769, when the design began to be entertained of abolishing it altogether, whereby the Latinists would get rid of an eyesore, and the trustees of what occa- sioned them such frequent trouble. The minute is MISCELLANEOUS. 151 this ; " The state of the English school is to be taken into consideration at next meeting, and whether it be proper to continue it on its present footing or not." This consideration was, however, not taken at the next meeting, at least nothing was concluded so as to be minuted; nor do we find any farther mention of the English school till the 18th of July, when the following minute was entered ; viz. " A special meeting is ap- pointed to be held on Monday next, and notice to be given, that the design of this meeting is to consider whether the English school is to be longer continued." This special meeting was accordingly held on the 23d of July, 1769, of which date is the following minute and resolution ; viz. " The trustees at this meet- ing, as well as several former ones, having taken into their serious consideration the state of the English school, are unanimously of opinion, that, as the said school is far from defraying the expense at which they now support it, and not thinking that they ought to lay out any great part of the funds intrusted to them on this branch of education, which can so easily be procured at other schools in this city, have resolved, that, from and after the 17th of October next, Mr. Kinnersley's present salary do cease, and that from that time the said school, if he shall be inclined to keep it, shall be on the following footing ; viz. that he shall have the free use of the room where he now teaches, and also the whole tuition-money arising from the boys that may be taught by him, and that he continue professor of English and oratory, and, as such, have the house he lives in rent-free, in consideration of his giving two afternoons in the week as heretofore, for the instruction of the students belonging to the college in public speaking, agreeable to such rules as are or shall be made for that purpose by the trustees 152 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. and faculty. It is further ordered by this legulation, that the boys belonging to his school fshall be still considered as part of the youth belonging to the col- lege, and under the same general government of the trustees and faculty ; and such of his scholars as may attend the mathematical or any other master having a salary from the college, for any part of their time, shall pay proportionably into the fund of the trustees, to be accounted for by Mr. Kinnersley, and deducted out of the twenty pounds per quarter now paid by the English scholars." The trustees hope this regulation, may be agreeable to Mr. Kinnersley, as it proceeds entirely from the reasons set forth above, and not from any abatement of that esteem which they have always retained for him, during the whole course of his services in college. Upon this and some of the preceding minutes, may be observed; 1. That, the English school having been long neglected, the scholars were so diminished in number as to be far from defraying the expense in supporting it. 2. That, the instruction they received there, instead of a complete English education, which had been promised to the subscribers by the original constitutions, were only such as might easily be pro- cured at other schools in this city. 3. That this un- profitableness of the English school, owing to neglect of duty in the trustees, was now offered as a reason for demolishing it altogether. For it was easy to see, that, after depriving the master of his salary, he could not long afford to continue it. 4. That if the insuffi- ciency of the tuition-money in the English school to pay the expense, and the ease with which the scholars might obtain equal instruction in other schools, were good reasons for depriving the master of his salary and destroying that school, they were equally good for MISCELLANEOUS. 153 dismissing the Latin masters, and sending their scholars to other schools ; since it is notorious that the tuition- money of the Latin school did not pay much above a fourth part of the salaries of the masters. For such reasons the trustees might equally well have got rid of all the scholars and all the masters, and remained hi full possession of all the college property, without any future expense. 5. That by their refusing any longer to support, instead of reforming, as they ought to have done, the English school, they shamefully broke through and set at nought the original constitutions, for the due execution of which the faith of the original trustees had been solemnly pledged to the public, and diverted the revenues, proceeding from much of the first sub- scriptions, to other purposes than those which had been promised. Had the Assembly, when disposed to dis- franchise the trustees, set their foot upon this ground, their proceeding to declare the forfeiture would have been more justifiable; and it may be hoped care will now be taken not to give any future Assembly the same handle. It seems, however, that this unrighteous resolve did not pass the trustees without a qualm in some of them. For at the next meeting a reconsideration was moved, and we find the following minute under the date of August 1st, 1769 ; " The minute of last meeting relative to the English school was read, and after mature deliberation and reconsidering the same, it was voted to stand as it is, provided it should not be found any way repugnant to the first charter granted to the Academy, a copy of which was ordered to be procured out of the rolls office." One might have thought it natural for the trustees to have consulted this charter before they took the resolution, and not only the first charter, but the VOL. ii. 20 154 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. original constitutions ; but, as it seems they had lost the instrument containing the charter, and, though it had been printed, not one of them was furnished with a copy to which he might refer, it is no wonder that they had forgot the constitutions made twenty years before, to which they do not seem to have in the least adverted. Probably, however, the trustees found, when they came to examine original papers, that they could not easily get entirely rid of the English school, and so concluded to continue it. For I find in a law for premiums, minuted under the date of Jan. 29th, 1770, that the English and mathematical school is directed to be examined the third Tuesday in July, and a pre- mium book of the value of one dollar was to be given to him that reads best, and understands best the English grammar, &,c. This is very well ; but to keep up the old partiality in favor of the Latin school, the premium to its boys was to be of the value of two dollars. In the premiums for best speaking, they were indeed put upon an equality. After reading this law for premiums, I looked forward to the third Tuesday in July with some pleasing ex- pectation of their effect on the examination required for that day. But I met with only this further record of the inattention of the trustees to their new resolu- tions and even laws, when they contained any thing favorable to the English school. The minute is only this ; " July, August, September, October, no business done." On the 20th of November, however, I find there was an examination of the Latin school, and premiums, with pompous inscriptions, afterwards adjudged to Latin scholars ; but I find no mention of any to the English, or that they were even examined. Perhaps there MISCELLANEOUS. 155 might have been none to examine, or the school dis- continued; for it appears by a minute of July 21st, following, that the provost was desired to advertise for a master able to teach English grammatically, which it seems was all the English master was now required to teach, the other branches originally promised being dropt entirely. In October, 1772, Mr. Kinnersley resigned his pro- fessorship, when Dr. Peters and others were appointed to consider on what footing the English school shall be put for the future, that a new master may be thought of, and Mr. Willing to take care of the school for the present at fifty pounds per annum. It is ob- servable here that there is no mention of putting it on its original footing, and the salary is shrunk amazingly ; but this resignation of Mr. Kinnersley gave occasion to one testimony of the utility of the English professor to the institution, notwithstanding all the partiality, neglect, slights, discouragements, and injustice that school had suffered. We find it in the minutes of a special meeting on the 2d of February, 1773, present Dr. Peters, Mr. Chew, Mr. Lawrence, Mr. Willing, Mr. Trettel, and Mr. Inglis, and expressed in these strong terms. "The college suffers greatly since Mr. Kinnersley left it, for want of a person to teach public speaking, so that the present classes have not those opportunities of learning to declaim and speak which have been of so much use to their predecessors, and have contri- buted greatly to raise the credit of the institution." Here is another confession that the Latinists were unequal to the task of teaching English eloquence, though on occasion the contrary is still asserted. I flatter myself, Gentlemen, that it appears by this time pretty clearly from our own minutes, that the original 156 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. plan of the English school has been departed from; that the subscribers to it have been disappointed and deceived, and the faith of the trustees not kept with them ; that the public have been frequently dissatisfied with the conduct of the trustees, and complained of it; that, by the niggardly treatment of good masters, they have been driven out of the school, and the scholars have followed, while a great loss of revenue has been suffered by the Academy; so that the nu- merous schools now in the city owe their rise to our mismanagement, and that we might as well have had the best part of the tuition-money paid into our treasury, that now goes into private pockets ; that there has been a constant disposition to depress the English school in favor of the Latin ; and that every means to procure a more equitable treatment has been rendered ineffectual; so that no more hope remains while they continue to have any connexion. It is, therefore, that, wishing as much good to the Latinists as their system can honestly procure for them, we now demand a separation, and without desiring to injure them ; but claiming an equitable partition of our joint stock, we wish to execute the plan they have so long defeated, and afford the public the means of a complete English education. I am the only one of the original trustees now living, and I am just stepping into the grave myself. I am afraid that some part of the blame incurred by the trustees may be laid on me, for having too easily submitted to the deviations from the constitution, and not opposing them with sufficient zeal and earnest- ness; though indeed my absence in foreign countries at different times for near thirty years, tended much to weaken my influence. To make what amends are yet in my power, I seize this opportunity, the last I may MISCELLANEOUS. 157 possibly have, of bearing testimony against those devia- tions. I seem here to be surrounded by the ghosts of my dear departed friends, beckoning and urging me to use the only tongue now left us, in demanding that justice to our grandchildren, that to our children has been denied. And I hope they will not be sent away discontented. The origin of Latin and Greek schools among the different nations of Europe is known to have been this ; that until between three and four hundred years past there were no books in any other language; all the knowledge then contained in books, viz. the the- ology, the jurisprudence, the physic, the art-military, the politics, the mathematics and mechanics, the natural and moral philosophy, the logic and rhetoric, the chem- istry, the pharmacy, the architecture, and every other branch of science, being in those languages, it was of course necessary to learn them, as the gates through which men must pass to get at that knowledge. The books then existing were manuscript, and these consequently so dear, that only the few wealthy in- clined to learning could afford to purchase them. The common people were not even at the pains of learning to read, because, after taking that pains, they would have nothing to read that they could understand with- out learning the ancients' languages, nor then, without money to purchase the manuscripts. And so few were the learned readers sixty years after the invention of printing, that it appears by letters still extant between the printers in 1499, that they could not throughout Europe find purchasers for more than 300 copies of any ancient authors. But, printing beginning now to make books cheap, the readers increased so much as to make it worth while to write and print books in the vulgar tongues. At first these were chiefly books of VOL. II. N 158 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. devotion and little histories ; gradually several branches of science began to appear in the common languages, and at this day the whole body of science, consisting not only of translations from all the valuable ancients, but of all the new modern discoveries, is to be met with in those languages, so that learning the ancient for the purpose of acquiring knowledge is become absolutely unnecessary. But there is in mankind an unaccountable prejudice in favor of ancient customs and habitudes, which in- clines to a continuance of them after the circumstances, which formerly made them useful, cease to exist. A multitude of instances might be given, but it may suffice to mention one. Hats were once thought an useful part of dress; they kept the head warm and screened it from the violent impression of the sun's rays, and from the rain, snow, hail, &,c. Though, by the way, this was not the more ancient opinion or practice ; for among all the remains of antiquity, the bustos, statues, basso-rilievos, medals, &,c., which are infinite, there is no representation of a human figure with a cap or hat on, nor any covering for the head, unless it be the head of a soldier, who has a helmet ; but that is evidently not a part of dress for health, but as a protection from the strokes of a weapon. At what time hats were first introduced we know not, but in the last century they were universally worn throughout Europe. Gradually, however, as the wear- ing of wigs, and hair nicely dressed prevailed, the putting on of hats was disused by genteel people, lest the curious arrangements of the curls and powdering should be disordered; and umbrellas began to supply their place ; yet still our considering the hat as a part of dress continues so far to prevail, that a man of fashion is not thought dressed without having one, 01 MISCELLANEOUS. 159 something like one, about him, which he carries under his arm. So that there are a multitude of the politer people in all the courts and capital cities of Europe, who have never, nor their fathers before them, worn a hat otherwise than as a chapeau bras, though the utility of such a mode of wearing it is by no means apparent, and it is attended not only with some ex- pense, but with a degree of constant trouble. The still prevailing custom of having schools for teach- ing generally our children, in' these days, the Latin and Greek languages, I consider therefore, in no other light than as the chapeau bras of modern literature. Thus the time spent in that study might, it seems, be much better employed in the education for such a country as ours; and this was indeed the opinion of most of the original trustees. HINTS FOR CONSIDERATION RESPECTING THE ORPHAN SCHOOL-HOUSE IN PHILADELPHIA. CHARITABLE institutions, however originally well in- tended and well executed at first for many years, are subject to be in a course of time corrupted, misman- aged, their funds misapplied or perverted to private purposes. Would it not be well to guard against these by prudent regulations respecting the choice of man- agers, and establishing the power of inspecting their conduct in some permanent body, as the monthly or quarterly meeting? Would it not be more respectable for the institution, if the appearance of making a profit of the labor of orphans were avoided, and the . dependence for funds 160 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. to be wholly on charitable contributions? If this should be concluded, then it may be proper to open an account with each orphan on admission; the or- phans to have credit for any subsistence brought in with them, and for the profit made of it and of their labor, and made debtors for their maintenance and education. And at their discharge on coming of age, to be paid the balance, if any, in their favor, or remain debtors for the balance, if against them, which they may be exhorted to pay, if ever able, but not to be compelled. Such as receive a balance may be ex- horted to give back a part in charity to the institution that has taken such kind care of them, or at least to remember it favorably, if hereafter God should bless them with ability, either in benefaction while living, or a legacy on decease. The orphans, when discharged, to receive, besides decent clothing and some money, a certificate of their good behaviour, if such it has been, as a recommendation ; and the managers of the institution should still consider them as their children, so far as to counsel them in their affairs, encourage and promote them in their business, watch over and kindly admonish them when in danger of misconduct. MISCELLANEOUS. 161 PAPER; This poem has been printed in nearly all the collections of Dr. Franklin's writings, and for that reason it is retained in the present edition ; but I have seen no evidence, which satisfies me that he was the author of it. In the American Museum, where it was printed in 1788, it was said to be " ascribed to Dr. Franklin" ; and, on that authority, it was taken first into Robinson's and then into Long- man's edition, and thence transferred, under Franklin's name, to various other publications in England and the United States. It is not contained in W. T. Franklin's edition. — EDITOR. SOME wit of old, — such wits of old there were, — Whose hints showed meaning, whose allusions care, By one brave stroke to mark all human kind, Called clear blank pEFper every infant mind ; Where still, as opening sense her dictates wrote, Fair virtue put a seal, or vice a blot. The thought was happy, pertinent, and true ; Methinks a genius might the plan pursue. I, (can you pardon my presumption ?) I — No wit, no genius, — yet for once will try. Various the papers various wants produce, The wants of fashion, elegance, and use. Men are as various ; and, if right I scan, Each sort of paper represents some man. Pray note the fop, — half powder and half lace, — Nice as a band-box were his dwelling-place; He 's the gilt paper, which apart you store, And lock from vulgar hands in the 'scrutoire. VOL. II. 21 N* 162 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth, Are copy-paper of inferior worth ; Less prized, more useful, for your desk decreed, Free to all pens, and prompt at every need. The wretch, whom avarice bids to pinch and spare, Starve, cheat, and pilfer, to enrich an heir, 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, fame, and fortune, in a round of joys. Will any paper match him? Yes, throughout, He's a true sinking paper, past all doubt. The retail politician's anxious thought Deems this side always right, and that stark naught ; He foams with censure; with applause he raves, — A dupe to rumors, and a tool of knaves; He'll want no type his weakness to proclaim, While such a thing as foolscap 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. MISCELLANEOUS. 162 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, Formed on the feelings of his heart alone; True genuine royal paper is his breast ; Of all the kinds most precious, purest, best. 164 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. BAGATELLES. Concerning all the following articles, from The Levee to An Economical Project inclusive, Mr. William Temple Franklin re- marks, that they "were chiefly written by Dr. Franklin for the amusement of his intimate society in London and Paris; and were actually collected in a small PORTFOLIO, endorsed as above. Several of the pieces were either originally written in French, or afterwards translated by him into that language, by way of exer- cises." The pieces which follow next, entitled The Craven Street Gazette, and A Letter concerning China, may perhaps be properly ranked in the same class. — EDITOR. THE LEVEE. IN the first chapter of Job we have an account of a transaction said to have arisen in the court, or at the levee, of the best of all possible princes, or of govern- ments by a single person, viz. that of God himself. At this levee, in which the sons of God were assem- bled, Satan also appeared. It is probable the writer of that ancient book took his idea of this levee from those of the eastern monarchs of the age he lived in. It is to this day usual, at the levees of princes, to have persons assembled who are enemies to each other, who seek to obtain favor by whispering calumny and detraction, and thereby ruining those that distinguish .|hemselves by their virtue and merit. And kings frequently ask a familiar question or two, of every one MISCELLANEOUS. 165 in the circle, merely to show their benignity. These circumstances are particularly exemplified hi this re- lation. If a modern king, for instance, finds a person hi the circle, who has not lately been there, he naturally asks him how he has passed his time since he last had the pleasure of seeing him. The gentleman perhaps replies, that he has been in the country to view his estates, and visit some friends. Thus Satan, being asked whence he cometh, answers, "From going to and fro hi the earth, and walking up and down in it." And being further asked, whether he had considered the upright- ness and fidelity of the prince's servant Job, he imme- diately displays all the malignance of the designing cour- tier, by answering with another question ; " Doth Job serve God for naught ? Hast thou not given him im- mense wealth, and protected him in the possession of it ? Deprive him of that, and he will curse thee to thy face." In modern phrase, " Take away his places and his pensions, and your Majesty will soon find him in the opposition." This whisper against Job had its effect. He was delivered into the power of his adversary, who deprived him of his fortune, destroyed his family, and completely ruined him. The Book of Job is called by divines a sacred poem, and, with the rest of the Holy Scriptures, is understood to be written for our instruction. What then is the instruction to be gathered from this supposed transaction ? Trust not a single person with the government of your state. For if the Deity himself, being the monarch, may for a time give way to calumny, and suffer it to operate the destruction of the best of subjects ; what mischief may you not expect from such power in a 166 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. mere man, though the best of men, from whom the truth is often industriously hidden, and to whom false- hood is often presented in its place, by artful, interested, and malicious courtiers ? And be cautious in trusting him even with limited powers, lest sooner or later he sap and destroy those limits, and render himself absolute. For by the disposal of places, he attaches to himself all the placeholders, with their numerous connexions, and also all the expecters and hopers of places, which will form a strong party in promoting his views. By various political engagements for the interest of neigh- bouring states or princes, he procures their aid in estab- lishing his own personal power. So that, through the hopes of emolument in one part of his subjects, and the fear of his resentment in the other, all opposition falls before him. PROPOSED NEW VERSION OP THE BIBLE. To THE PRINTER OF * * * * . SIR, IT is now more than one hundred and seventy years since the translation of our common English Bible. The language in that time is much changed, and the style, being obsolete, and thence less agreeable, is perhaps one reason why the reading of that excellent book is of late so much neglected. I have therefore thought it would be well to procure a new version, in which, preserving the sense, the turn of phrase and manner of expression should be modern. I do not pretend to have the necessary abilities for such a work myself; I throw out the hint for the consideration of MISCELLANEOUS. 167 the learned ; and only venture to send you a few verses of the first chapter of Job, which may serve as a sample of the kind of version I would recommend. A. B. PART OP THE FIRST CHAPTER OP JOB MODERNIZED. OLD TEXT. Verse 6. Now there was a day when the sons of God came to present themselves before the Lord, and Satan came also amongst them. 7. And the Lord said unto Satan, Whence comest thou ? Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, From going to and fro in the earth, and from walking .up and down^n it. 8. And the Lord said unto Satan, Hast thou considered my servant Job, that there is none like him in the earth, a perfect and an upright man, one that feareth God, and escheweth evil ? 9. Then Satan answered the Lord, and said, Doth Job fear God for naught? 10. Hast thou not made an hedge about his house, and about all that he hath on every side ? Thou hast blessed the work of his hands, and his substance is increased in the land. 11. But put forth thine hand now, and touch all that he hath, and he will curse thee to thy face. NEW VERSION. Verse 6. And it being levee day in heaven, all God's nobility came to court, to present them- selves before him; and Satan also appeared in the circle, as one of the ministry. 7. And God said to Satan, You have been some time ab- sent; where were you? And Satan answered, I have been at my country-seat, and in different places visiting my friends. 8. And God said, Well, what think you of Lord Job ? You see he is my best friend, a perfectly honest man, full of respect for me, and avoiding every thing that might offend me. 9. And Satan answered, Does your Majesty imagine that his good conduct is the effect of mere personal attachment and affection ? 10. Have you not protected him, and heaped your benefits upon him, till he is grown enormously rich ? 11. Try him ; — only withdraw your favor, turn him out of his places, and withhold his pen- sions, and you will soon find him in the opposition. 168 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. APOLOGUE.* LION, king of a certain forest, had among his sub- jects a body of faithful dogs, in principle and affection strongly attached to his person and government, and through whose assistance he had extended his do- minions, and had become the terror of his enemies. Lion, however, influenced by evil counsellors, took an aversion to the dogs, condemned them unheard, and ordered his tigers, leopards, and panthers to attack and destroy them. The dogs petitioned humbly, but their petitions were rejected haughtily; and they were forced to defend themselves, which they did with bravery. A few among them, of a mongrel race, derived from a mixture with wolves and foxes, corrupted by royal promises of great rewards, deserted the honest dogs and joined their enemies. The dogs were finally victorious ; a treaty of peace was made, in which Lion acknowledged them to be free, and disclaimed all future authority over them. The mongrels, not being permitted to return among them, claimed of the royalists the reward that had been promised. A council of the beasts was held to consider their demand. The wolves and the foxes agreed unanimously that the demand was just, that royal promises ought to be kept, and that every loyal subject should contribute freely to enable his Majesty to fulfil them. * Written at the period of, and in allusion to, the claims of the American Royalists on the British Government — W. T. F. MISCELLANEOUS. 169 The horse alone, with a boldness and freedom that became the nobleness of his nature, delivered a contrary opinion. " The King," said he, " has been misled, by bad min- isters, to war unjustly upon his faithful subjects. Royal promises, when made to encourage us to act for the public good, should indeed be honorably acquitted ; but if to encourage us to betray and destroy each other, they are wicked and void from the beginning. The advisers of such promises, and those who murdered in consequence of them, instead of being recompensed, should be severely punished. Consider how greatly our common strength is already diminished by our loss of the dogs. If you enable the King to reward those fratricides, you will establish a precedent that may justify a future tyrant in making like promises ; and every example of such an unnatural brute rewarded will give them additional weight. Horses and bulls, as well as dogs, may thus be divided against their own kind, and civil wars produced at pleasure, till we are so weakened that neither liberty nor safety is any longer to be found in the forest, and nothing remains but abject submission to the will of a despot, who may devour us as he pleases." The council had sense enough to resolve, — That the demand be rejected. VOL. ii. 22 o FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. TO MISS GEORGIAN A SHIPLEY,* ON THE LOSS OF HER AMERICAN SQUIRREL, WHO, ESCAPING FROM HIS CAGE, WAS KILLED BY A SHEPHERD'S DOG. London, 26 September, 1772. DEAR Miss, I LAMENT with you most sincerely the unfortunate end of poor MUNGO. Few squirrels were better ac- complished; for he had had a good education, had travelled far, and seen much of the world. As he had the honor of being, for his virtues, your favorite, he should not go, like common skuggs, without an elegy or an epitaph. Let us give him one in the monumental style and measure, which, being neither prose nor verse, is perhaps the properest for grief; since to use common •* language would look as if we were not affected, and to make rhymes would seem trifling in sorrow. EPITAPH. Alas ! poor MUNGO ! Happy wert thou, hadst thou known Thy own felicity. Remote from the fierce bald eagle, Tyrant of thy native woods, Thou hadst nought to fear from his piercing talons, Nor from the murdering gun Of the thoughtless sportsman. Safe in thy wired castle, GRIMALKIN never could annoy thee. Daily wert thou fed with the choicest viands, By the fair hand of an indulgent mistress ; But, discontented, Thou wouldst have more freedom. Too soon, alas! didst thou obtain it; And wandering, Thou art fallen by the fangs of wanton, cruel RANGER ! * A daughter of the Bishop of St. Asaph. MISCELLANEOUS. 171 Learn hence, Ye who blindly seek more liberty, Whether subjects, sons, squirrels, or daughters, That apparent restraint may be real protection, Yielding peace and plenty With security. You see, my dear Miss, how much more decent and proper this broken style is, than if we were to say, by way of epitaph, — Here SKUGG Lies snug, As a bug In a rug. And yet, perhaps, there are people in the world of so little feeling as to think that this would be a good- enough epitaph for poor Mungo. If you wish it, I shall procure another to succeed him ; / but perhaps you will now choose some other amuse- ^ ment. Remember me affectionately to all the good family, aad believe me ever your affectionate friend, B. FRANKLIN. 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 pleasant, and sometimes painful dreams, it becomes of some consequence to obtain the one kind and avoid the other ; for, whether real or imaginary, pain is pain and pleasure is pleasure. If we can sleep without dreaming, it is well that painful dreams are avoided. If, while we sleep, we can have 172 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. any pleasing dream, it is, as the French say, autant de gagne, 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 dis turbed, and disagreeable, sometimes terrible, ideas are apt to present themselves. Exercise should precede meals, not immediately follow them ; the first promotes, the latter, unless moderate, obstructs digestion. If, after exercise, we feed sparingly, the digestion will be easy and good, the body lightsome, the temper cheerful, and all the animal functions performed agreeably. Sleep, when it follows, will be natural and undisturbed ; while indolence, with full feeding, occasions nightmares and horrors inexpressible ; we fall from precipices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murderers, and demons, and* experience every variety of distress. Observe, how- ever, that the quantities of food and exercise are relative things ; those who move much may, and indeed ought to eat more ; those who use little exercise should eat little. In general, mankind, since the improvement of cookery, eat about twice as much as nature requires. Suppers are not bad, if we have not dined ; but restless nights naturally follow hearty suppers after full dinners. Indeed, as there is a difference in constitutions, some rest well after these meals ; it costs them only a frightful dream and an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. Nothing is more common in the news- papers, than instances of people who, after eating a hearty supper, are found dead abed in the morning. Another means of preserving health, to be attended to, is the having a constant supply of fresh air in your bed-chamber. It has been a great mistake, the sleep- ing in rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded by curtains. No outward air that may come in to you is MISCELLANEOUS. 173 so unwholesome as the unchanged air, often breathed, of a close chamber. As boiling water does not grow hotter by longer boiling, if the particles that receive greater heat can escape ; so living bodies do not putrefy, if the particles, so fast as they become putrid, can be thrown off. Nature expels them by the pores of the skin and the lungs, and in a free, open air they are carried off; but in a close room we receive them again and again, though they become more and more corrupt. A number of persons crowded into a small room thus spoil the air in a few minutes, and even render it mortal, as in the Black Hole at Calcutta. A single person is said to spoil only a gallon of air per minute, and there- fore 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 sup- posed to have best preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air; for, when he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to him ; " Arise, Methusalem, and build thee an house, for thou shalt live yet five hundred years longer." But Methusalem answered, and said, "If I am to live but five hundred years longer, it is not worth while to build me an house ; I will sleep in the air, as I have been used to do." Physicians, after having for ages contended that the sick should not be indulged with fresh air, have at length discovered that it may do them good. It is therefore to be hoped, that they may in time discover likewise, that it is not hurtful to those who are in health, and that we may be then cured of the aerophobia, that at present distresses weak minds, and makes them choose to be stifled and poisoned, rather than leave open the window of a bed-chamber, or put down the glass of a coach. o* 174 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Confined air, when saturated with perspirable mat- ter,* 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 sen- sation, 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 fidgeti- ness (to use a vulgar expression for want of a better) is occasioned wholly by an uneasiness hi the skin, owing to the retention of the perspirable matter, the bed- clothes having received their quantity, and, being satu- rated, refusing to take any more. To become sensible of this by an experiment, let a person keep his position in the bed, but throw off the bed-clothes, and suffer fresh air to approach the part uncovered of his body ; he will then feel that part suddenly refreshed ; for the air will immediately relieve the skin, by receiving, licking up, and carrying off, the load of perspirable matter that incommoded it. For every portion of cool air that approaches the warm skin, in receiving its part of that vapor, receives therewith a degree of heat that rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will be pushed away with its burthen, by cooler and therefore heavier fresh air, which for a moment supplies its place, and then, being likewise changed and warmed, gives way to a succeeding quantity. This is the order of nature, to prevent animals being infected by their own perspira- * What physicians call the perspirable matter is that vapor, which passes off from our bodies, from the lungs, and through the pores of the skin. The quantity of this is said to be five eighths of what we eat. — AUTHOR. MISCELLANEOUS. 175 tion. He will now be sensible of the difference be- tween 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 un- pleasing dreams. For, when the body is uneasy, the mind will be disturbed by it, and disagreeable ideas of various kinds will in sleep be the natural consequences. The remedies, preventive and curative, follow. 1. By eating moderately (as before advised for health's sake), less perspirable matter is produced in a given time; hence the bed-clothes receive it longer before they are saturated, and we may therefore sleep longer before we are made uneasy by their refusing to receive any more. 2. By using thinner and more porous bed-clothes, which will suffer the perspirable matter more easily to pass through them, we are less incommoded, such being longer tolerable. 3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and find you cannot easily sleep again, get out of bed, beat up and turn your pillow, shake the bed-clothes well, with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open and leave it to cool ; in the mean while, continuing un- dressed, 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 too of the pleasing kind. I am often as agreeably entertained with them, as by the scenery of 176 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. an opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out of bed, you may, instead of it, lift up your bed-clothes with one arm and leg, so as to draw in a good deal of fresh air, and by letting them fall force it out again. This, repeated twenty times, will so clear them of the perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to permit your sleeping well for some time afterwards. But this latter method is not equal to the former. Those who do not love trouble, and can afford to have two beds, will find great luxury in rising, when they wake in a hot bed, and going into the cool one. Such shifting of beds would also be of great service to persons ill of a fever, as it refreshes and frequently pro- cures sleep. A very large bed, that will admit a remo- val 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 dis- pose your pillow so as to suit y OWN manner of placing your head, and to be perfectly easy ; then place your limbs so as not to bear inconveniently hard upon one another, as, for instance, the joints of your ankles ; for, though a bad position may at first give but little pain and be hardly noticed, yet a continuance will render it less tolerable, and the uneasiness may come on while you are asleep, and disturb your imagination. These are the rules of the art. But, though they will generally prove effectual in producing the end intended, there is a case in which the most punctual observance of them will be totally fruitless. I need not mention the case to you, my dear friend, but my account of the art would be imperfect without it. The case is, when the person who desires to have pleasant dreams has not taken care to preserve, what is necessary above all things, A GOOD CONSCIENCE. MISCELLANEOUS. 177 THE EPHEMERA; AN EMBLEM OP HUMAN LIFE. TO MADAME BRILLON, OF PASSY. Written in 1778. You may remember, my dear friend, that when we lately spent that happy day in the delightful garden and sweet society of the Moulin Joly, I stopped a little in one of our walks, and stayed some time behind the company. We had been shown numberless skeletons of a kind of little fly, called an ephemera, whose suc- cessive generations, we were told, were bred and ex- pired 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 lan- guage. I listened through curiosity to the discourse of these little creatures ; but as they, in their national vivacity, spoke three or four together, I could make but little of their conversation. I found, however, by some broken expressions that I heard now and then, they were disputing warmly on the merit of two foreign musicians, one a cousin, the other a moscheto ; in which dispute they spent their time, seemingly as regardless of the shortness of life as if they had been sure of living a month. Happy people ! thought I ; you are certainly under a wise, just, and mild govern- ment, since you have no public grievances to complain of, nor any subject of contention but the perfections and imperfections of foreign music. I turned my head from them to an old grey-headed one, who was single VOL. ii. 23 178 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. on another leaf, and talking to himself. Being amused with his soliloquy, I put it down in writing, in hopes it will likewise amuse her to whom I am so much indebted for the most pleasing of all amusements, her delicious company and heavenly harmony. " It was," said he, " the opinion of learned philos- ophers 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 extin- guished in the waters that surround us, and leave the world in cold and darkness, necessarily producing uni- versal death and destruction. I have lived seven of those hours, a great age, being no less than four hun- dred and twenty minutes of time. How very few of us continue so long ! I have seen generations born, flourish, and expire. My present friends are the chil- dren and grandchildren of the friends of my youth, who are now, alas, no more ! And I must soon follow them ; for, by the course of nature, though still in health, I cannot expect to live above seven or eight minutes longer. What now avails all my toil and labor, in amassing honey-dew on this leaf, which I cannot live to enjoy! What the political struggles I have been engaged in, for the good of my compatriot in- habitants of this bush, or my philosophical studies for the benefit of our race in general ! for, in politics, what ^ can laws do without morals? Our present race of ephemerae will in a course of minutes become corrupt, like those of other and older bushes, and consequently as wretched. And in philosophy how small our pro- MISCELLANEOUS. 179 gress ! Alas ! art is long, and life is short ! My friends would comfort me with the idea of a name, they say, I shall leave behind me; and they tell me I have lived long enough to nature and to glory. But what will fame be to an ephemera who no longer exists? And what will become of all history in the eighteenth hour, when the world itself, even the whole Moulin Joly, shall come to its end, and be buried in universal ruin?" To me, after all my eager pursuits, no solid pleasures now remain, but the reflection of a long life spent h> 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 Brillante* B. FRANKLIN. * The substance of these reflections of the venerable EPHEMERA appeared in The Pennsylvania Gazette, December 4th, 1735, in an essay " O>* HUMAN VANITY." Franklin was then the editor and publisher of that paper. In its original form the article purports to be a communi- cation from some other person. In the above letter to " the ever amiable Brillante" it was doubtless re-written from memory. It is much im- proved in this new dress, both as to diction and sentiment, as will be seen by comparing it with the following extract from the essay On Human Vanity. The aged philosopher is there represented, not as uttering a soliloquy, but as calling his friends around him, and addressing them for the last time. — EDITOR. EXTRACT. " Friends and fellow citizens ! I perceive the longest life must however end. The period of mine is now at hand. Neither do I repine at my fate, since my great age is become a burthen to me ; and there is nothing new to me under the sun. The changes and revolutions I have seen in my country, the manifold private misfortunes to which we are all liable, the fatal diseases incident to our race, have abundantly taught me this lesson ; that no happiness can be secure or lasting, which is placed in things that are out of our power. Great is the uncertainty of life ! A whole brood of our infants have perished in a moment, by a keen blast ! Shoals of our straggling youth have been swept into the ocean by an unexpected breeze ! What wasteful desolation have we not suffered from the deluge of a sudden shower ! Our strongest holds are 180 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. THE WHISTLE. . TO MADAME BRILLOTf. Passy, 10 November, 1779. I RECEIVED my dear friend's two letters, one for Wednesday and one for Saturday. This is again Wednesday. I do not deserve one for to-day, be- cause I have not answered the former. But, indolent as I am, and averse to writing, the fear of having no .more of your pleasing epistles, if I do not contribute to the correspondence, obliges me to take up my pen ; and as Mr. B. has kindly sent me word, that he sets out to-morrow to see you, instead of spending this Wednesday evening as I have done its namesakes, in your delightful company, I sit down to spend it in not proof against a storm of hail, and even a dark cloud damps the very stoutest heart " I have lived in the first ages, and conversed with insects of a larger size and stronger make, and, I must add, of greater virtue than any can boast of in the present generation. I must conjure you to give yet further credit to my latest words when I assure you, that yonder sun, which now appears westward, beyond the water, and seems not to be far distant from the earth, in my remembrance stood in the middle of the sky, and shot his beams directly down upon us. The world was much more enlightened in those ages, and the air much warmer. Think it not dotage in me, if I affirm, that glorious being moves. I saw his first setting out in the east, and I began my race of life, near the time when he began his im- mense career. He has for several ages advanced along the sky with vast heat and unparalleled brightness ; but now, by his declination, and a sensible decay, more especially of late, in his vigor, I foresee that all nature must fall in a little time, and that the creation will lie buried in darkness, in less than a century of minutes. " Alas ! my friends, how did I once flatter myself with the hopes of abiding here for ever ; how magnificent are the cells which I hollowed out for myself; what confidence did I repose in the firmness and spring of my joints, and in the strength of my pinions ! But I have lived enough to nature, and even to glory. Neither will any of you, whom I leave behind, have equal satisfaction in life, in the dark, declining age, which I see is already begun." MISCELLANEOUS. 181 thinking of you, b wi*ve charitvj&d in reading over and over again your ler> tto&**?? I am charmed with your description of Paradise, and with your plan of living there ; and I approve much of your conclusion, that, in the mean time, we should draw all the good we can from this world. In my opinion, we might all draw more good from it than we do, and suffer less evil, if we would take care not to give too much for whistles. For to me it seems, that most of the unhappy people we meet with, are become so by neglect of that caution. You ask what I mean 1 • You love stories, and will excuse my telling one of myself. When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a holiday, filled my pocket with coppers. I went directly to a shop where they sold toys for children; and, being charmed with the sound of a whistle, that I met by the way in the hands of another boy, I voluntarily offered and gave all my money for one. I then came home, and went whistling all over the house, much pleased with my whistle, but disturbing all the family. My brothers, and sisters, and cousins, understanding the bargain I had made, told me I had given four times as much for it as it was worth ; put me in mind what good things I might have bought with the rest of the money; and laughed at me so much for my folly, that I cried with vexation ; and the reflection gave me more chagrin than the whistle gave me pleasure. This however was afterwards of use to me, the im- pression continuing on my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary thing, I said , Don't give too much for the whistle ; and I d my money. A& I grew up, came into the world, and observed VOL. II. P 182 FRANKLIN'S WAITINGS.- the actions of meiv met with many, very many, who gave too mu£?&^$Jthe whistle. When I saw one too ambitious of court favor, sacri- ficing his time in attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, This man gives too much for his whistle. When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that neglect, He pays, indeed, said I, too much for his whistle. If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of com- fortable living, all the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem" of his fellow-citizens, and the Joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of accumulating wealth, Poor man, said I, you pay too much for your whistle. When I met with a man of pleasure, sacrificing every laudable improvement of the mind, or of his fortune, to mere corporeal sensations, and ruining his health in their pursuit, Mistaken man, said I, you are providing pain for yourself, instead of pleasure ; you give too much for your whistle. If I see one fond of appearance, or fine clothes, fine houses, fine furniture, fine equipages, all above his fortune, for which he contracts debts, and ends his career in a prison, Jllas ! say I, he has paid dear, very dear, for his whistle. When I see a beautiful, sweet-tempered girl married to an ill-natured brute of a husband, IVIiat a pity, say I, that she should pay so much for a whistle ! In short, I conceive that great part of the miseries of mankind are brought upon them by the false mates they have made of the value of things, their giving oo much for their whistles. MISCELLANEOUS. 183 Yet I ought to have charity for these unhappy people, when I consider, that, with all this wisdom of which I am boasting, there are certain things in the world so tempting, for example, the apples of King John, which happily are not to be bought ; for if they were put to sale by auction, I might very easily be led to ruin myself in the purchase, and find that I had once more given too much for the whistle. Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever yours very sincerely and with unalterable affection, B. FRANKLIN. TO THOSE WHO HAVE THE SUPERINTENDENCY 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 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 edu- cation. 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 to><-ng awkward, and wanting a graceful manner. It is , my sister associated me with her upon some oc- Af»ns; but she always made a point of taking the v< 184 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. lead, calling upon me only from necessity, or to figure by her side. But conceive not, Sirs, that my complaints are insti- gated merely by vanity. No; my uneasiness is oc- casioned by an object much more serious. It is the practice in our family, that the whole business of providing for its subsistence falls upon my sister and myself. If any indisposition should attack my sister, — and I men- tion it in confidence upon this occasion, that she is subject to the gout, the rheumatism, and cramp, with- out 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 hi my power even to scrawl a suppliant petition for relief having been obliged to employ the hand of another in transcribing the request which I have now the honor to prefer to you. Condescend, Sirs, to make my parents sensible of the 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 re- spect, Sirs, your obedient servant, THE LEFT HAND. MISCELLANEOUS. 185 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, become, the one happy, and the other miserable. This arises very much from the different views in which they consider things, persons, and events; and the effect of those different views upon their own minds. In whatever situation men can be placed, they may find conveniences and inconveniences ; 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 gov- ernment, 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. 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 everywhere disagreeable. If this turn of mind was founded in nature, such unhappy persons would be VOL. IT 24 p* 186 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. the more to be pitied. But as the disposition to criti- cize, and to be disgusted, is perhaps taken up origin- ally 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 shows them more than the most common civility and respect, and scarcely that ; and this frequently puts them out of humor, and draws them into disputes and contentions. If they aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes them success, or will stir a step, or speak a word, to favor their pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their misconduct, and render them completely odious. If these people will not change this bad habit, and con- descend 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 in- convenient, especially when one finds one's self entan- gled in their quarrels. An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from experience, very cautious in this particular, and carefully avoided any intimacy with such people. He had, like other philosophers, a thermometer to show him the heat of the weather, and a barometer to mark when it was likely to prove good or bad ; but, there being no in- strument invented to discover, at first sight, this un- pleasing disposition in a person, he for that purpose MISCELLANEOUS. 187 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, re- garded 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 criti- cal, querulous, discontented, unhappy people, that, if they wish to be respected and beloved by others, and happy in themselves, they should leave off looking at the ugly leg. 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 it has, for num- berless 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 Amer- ica; and it has lately begun to make its appearance in the United States. It is so interesting in itself, as not to need the view of gain to induce engaging in it ; and thence it is seldom played for money. Those, therefore, who have leisure for such diversions, cannot find one that is more innocent ; and the following piece, written with a view to correct (among a few young 188 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. friends) some little improprieties in the practice of it, shows at the same time that it may, in its effects on the mind, be not merely innocent, but advantageous, to the vanquished as well as the victor. THE game of chess is not merely an idle amuse- ment. Several very valuable qualities of the mind, useful in the course of human life, are to be acquired or strengthened by it, so as to become habits, ready on all occasions. For life is a kind of chess, in which we have often points to gain, and competitors or ad- versaries to contend with, and in which there is a vast variety of good and evil 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 can I make to sup- port it, and to defend myself from his attacks 1 " 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 make this or that move, and attack this or the other piece, and what different means can be used to avoid his stroke, or turn its consequences against him. III. Caution, not to make our moves too hastily. This habit is best acquired by observing strictly the laws of the game; such as, "If you touch a piece, you must move it somewhere; if you set it down, you must let it stand;" and it is therefore best that MISCELLANEOUS. 189 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 your- self into a bad and dangerous position, you cannot obtain your enemy's leave to withdraw your troops, and place them more securely, but you must abide all the consequences of your rashness. And, lastly, we learn by chess the habit of not being discouraged by present appearances in the state of our affairs, the habit of hoping for a favorable 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 contem- plation, discovers the means of extricating one's self from a supposed insurmountable difficulty, that one is en- couraged to continue the contest to the last, in hopes of victory by our own skill, or at least of getting a stale mate, by the negligence of our adversary. And whoever considers, what in chess he often sees in- stances of, that particular pieces of success are apt to produce presumption, and its consequent inattention, by which the losses 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 advan- tages, every circumstance which may increase 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 con- trary to the immediate intention of both the players, which is to pass the time agreeably. 190 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Therefore, first, if it is agreed to play according to the strict ruies, then those rules are to be exactly ob- served 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 ex- tricate yourself out of difficulty, or to gain an advan- tage. There can be no pleasure in playing with a person once detected in such unfair practice. Fourthly, if your adversary is long in playing, you ought not to hurry him, or express any uneasiness at his delay. You should not sing, nor whistle, nor look at your watch, nor take up a book to read, nor make a tapping with your feet on the floor, or with your fingers on the table, nor do any thing that may disturb his attention. For all these things displease ; and they do not show your skill in playing, but your craftiness or your rudeness. Fifthly, you ought not to endeavour to amuse and deceive your adversary, by pretending to have made bad moves, and saying, that you have now lost the game, in order to make him secure and careless, and inattentive to your schemes ; for this is fraud and deceit, not skill in the game. Sixthly, you must not, when you have gained a victory, use any triumphing or insulting expression, nor show too much pleasure ; but endeavour to console your adversary, and make him less dissatisfied with himself, by every kind of civil expression that may be used with truth, such as, " You understand the game better than I, but you are a little inattentive ;" or, " You play too fast ; " or, " You had the best of the game, MISCELLANEOUS. 191 but something happened to divert your thoughts, and that turned it in my favor." 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 favor you give it, because, though it be good, and he follows it, he loses the pleasure he might have had, if you had permitted him to think until it had occurred to himself. Even after a move or moves, you must not, by replacing the pieces, show how they might have been placed better ; for that displeases, and may occasion disputes and doubts about their true situation. All talking to the players lessens or diverts their attention, and is therefore unpleasing. Nor should you give the least hint to either party, by any kind of noise or motion. If you do, you are unworthy to be a spectator. If you have a mind to exercise or show your judgment, do it in playing your own game, when you have an opportunity, not in criticizing, or meddling with, or counselling the play of others. Lastly, if the game is not to be played rigorously, according to the rules above mentioned, then moderate your desire of victory over your adversary, and be pleased with one over yourself. Snatch not eagerly at every advantage offered by his unskilfulness or inatten- tion ; 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 situa- tion, &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. 192 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. CONTE. IL y avoit un officier, homme de bien, appele Mon- tresor, qui etoit tres-malade ; son cure, croyant qu'il alloit mourir, lui conseilla de faire sa paix avec Dieu, afin d'etre re£u en Paradis. "Je n'ai pas beaucoup d'inquietude a ce sujet," dit Montresor, " car j'ai eu, la nuit derniere, une vision qui m'a tout-a-fait tran- quillise." " Quelle vision avez-vous cue?" dit le bon pretre. " J'etois," repondit Montresor, " a la porte du Paradis, avec une foule de gens qui vouloient entrer. Et St. Pierre demandoit a chacun, de quelle religion il etoit. L'un repondoit, * Je suis Catholique Romain.' 'He bien,' disoit St. Pierre, 'entrez, et prenez votre place la parmi les Catholiques.' Un autre dit, qu'il etoit de Peglise Anglicane. 'He bien,' dit St. Pierre, 'entrez, et placez-vous la parmi les Anglicans.' Un autre dit qu'il etoit Quaker. 'Entrez,' dit St. Pierre, 'et prenez place parmi les Quakers.' Enfin, mon tour etant arrive, il me demanda de quelle religion j'etois. ' Helas ! ' re- pondis-je, ' malheureusement le pauvre Jacques Mon- tresor n'en a point. ' C'est dommage,' dit le Saint, ' je ne sais ou vous placer; metis entrez toujours ; vous vous mettrez ou vous pourrez.'" TRANSLATION. A TALE. AN officer named Montresor, a worthy man, was very ill. The curate of his parish, thinking him likely to die, advised him to make his peace with God, that he might be received into Paradise. " I have not much uneasiness on the subject," said Montresor, " for I had a vision last night which has perfectly tranquillized my MISCELLANEOUS. 193 mind." "What vision have you had?" said the good priest. " I was," replied Montresor, " at the gate of Paradise, with a crowd of people who wished to enter, and St. Peter inquired of every one what religion he was of. One answered, ' I am a Roman Catholic.' ' Well,' said St. Peter, ' enter, and take your place there among the Catholics.' Another said he was of the Church of England. ' Well,' said the Saint, 'enter and place yourself there among the Anglicans.' A third said he was a Quaker. ' Enter,' said St. Peter, ' and take your place among the Quakers.' At length my turn being come, he asked me of what religion I was. ' Alas ! ' said I, ' poor Jacques Montresor has none.' *'Tis pity,' said the Saint; ' I know not where to place you; but enter nevertheless, and place yourself where you can.' " AN ARABIAN TALE. ALBUMAZAR, the good magician, retired in his old age to the top of the lofty mountain Calabut ; avoided the society of men, but was visited nightly by genii and spirits of the first rank, who loved him, and amused him with their instructive conversation. Belubel, the strong, came one evening to see Albu- mazar; his height was seven leagues, and his wings when spread might overshadow a kingdom. He laid himself gently down between the long ridges of Elluem ; the tops of the trees in the valley were his couch ; his head rested on Calabut as on a pillow, and his face shone on the tent of Albumazar. The magician spoke to him with rapturous piety of the wisdom and goodness of the Most High ; but ex- pressed his wonder at the existence of evil in the world, which he said he could not account for by all the efforts of his reason. "Value not thyself, my friend," said Belubel, "on that quality which thou callest reason. If thou knewest its origin and its weakness, it would rather be matter of humiliation." VOL. II. 25 Q 194 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. " Tell me then," said Albumazar, " what I do not know; inform my ignorance, and enlighten my under- standing." " Contemplate," said Albumazar, " the scale of beings, from an elephant down to an oyster. Thou seest a gradual diminution of faculties and powers, so small in each step that the difference is scarce percepti- ble. There is no gap, but the gradation is complete. Men in general do not know, but thou knowest, that in ascending from an elephant to the infinitely Great, Good, and Wise, there is also a long gradation of beings, who possess powers and faculties of which thou canst yet have no conception." DIALOGUE BETWEEN FRANKLIN AND THE GOUT. Midnight, 22 October, 1780. FRANKLIN. Eh! Oh! Eh! What have I done to merit these cruel sufferings? GOUT. Many things; you have ate and drank too freely, and too much indulged those legs of yours in their indolence. FRANKLIN. Who is it that accuses me ? GOUT. It is I, even I, the Gout. FRANKLIN. What ! my enemy in person 1 GOUT. No, not your enemy. FRANKLIN. I repeat it; my enemy; for you would not only torment my body to death, but ruin my good name ; you reproach me as a glutton and a tippler ; now all the world, that knows me, will allow that I am neither the one nor the other. GOUT. The world may think as it pleases; it is always very complaisant to itself, and sometimes to its friends ; but I very well know that the quantity of meat and drink proper for a man, who takes a reasonable MISCELLANEOUS. 195 degree of exercise, would be too much for another, who never takes any. FRANKLIN. I take — Eh ! Oh ! — as much exercise — Eh ! — as I can, Madam Gout. You know my sedentary state, and on that account, it would seem, Madam Gout, as if you might spare me a little, seeing it is not altogether my own fault. GOUT. Not a jot ; your rhetoric and your politeness are thrown away ; your apology avails nothing. If your situation in life is a sedentary one, your amusements, your recreations, at least, should be active. You ought to walk or ride ; or, if the weather prevents that, play at billiards. But let us examine your course of life. While the mornings are long, and you have leisure to go abroad, what do you do 1 Why, instead of gaining an appetite for breakfast, by salutary exercise, you amuse yourself with books, pamphlets, or newspapers, which commonly are not worth the reading. Yet you eat an inordinate breakfast, four dishes of tea, with cream, and one or two buttered toasts, with slices of hung beaf, which I fancy are not things the most easily digested. Immediately afterward you sit down to write at your desk, or converse with persons who apply to you on business. Thus the time passes till one, without any kind of bodily exercise. But all this I could par- don, in regard, as you say, to your sedentary condition. But what is your practice after dinner? Walking in the beautiful gardens of those friends, with whom you have dined, would be the choice of men of sense ; yours is to be fixed down to chess, where you are found engaged for two or three hours ! This is your perpetual recreation, which is the least eligible of any for a seden- tary man, because, instead of accelerating the motion of the fluids, the rigid attention it requires helps to retard the circulation and obstruct internal secretions. Wrapt 196 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. in the speculations of this wretched game, you destroy your constitution. What can be expected from such a course of living, but a body replete with stagnant humors, ready to fall a prey to all kinds of dangerous maladies, if I, the Gout, did not occasionally bring you relief by agitating those humors, and so purifying or dissipating them ? If it was hi some nook or alley in Paris, deprived of walks, that you played awhile at chess after dinner, this might be excusable ; but the same taste prevails with you in Passy, Auteuil, Mont- martre, or Sanoy, places where there are the finest gardens and walks, a pure air, beautiful women, and most agreeable and instructive conversation ; all which you might enjoy by frequenting the walks. But these are rejected for this abominable game of chess. Fie, then, Mr. Franklin ! But amidst my instructions, I had almost forgot to administer my wholesome corrections ; so take that twinge, — and that. FRANKLIN. Oh ! Eh ! Oh ! Ohhh ! As much instruc- tion as you please, Madam Gout, and as many reproach- es ; but pray, Madam, a truce with your corrections ! GOUT. No, Sir, no, — I will not abate a particle of what is so much for your good, — therefore — FRANKLIN. Oh! Ehhh! — It is not fair to say I take no exercise, when I do very often, going out to dine and returning in my carriage. GOUT. That, of all imaginable exercises, is the most slight and insignificant, if you allude to the motion of a carriage suspended on springs. By observing the de- gree of heat obtained by different kinds of motion, we may form an estimate of the quantity of exercise given by each. Thus, for example, if you turn out to walk in winter with cold feet, in an hour's time you will be in a glow all over ; ride on horseback, the same effect will scarcely be perceived by four hours' round trotting ; but MISCELLANEOUS. 197 if you loll in a carriage, such as you have mentioned, you may travel all day, and gladly enter the last inn to warm your feet by a fire. Flatter yourself then no longer, that half an hour's airing in your carriage deserves the name of exercise. Providence has ap- pointed few to roll in carriages, while he has given to all a pah- of legs, which are machines infinitely more com- modious and serviceable. Be grateful, then, and make a proper use of yours. Would you know how they forward the circulation of your fluids, in the very action of transporting you from place to place ; observe when you walk, that all your weight is alternately thrown from one leg to the other ; this occasions a great pres- sure on the vessels of the foot, and repels their contents ; when relieved, by the weight being thrown on the other foot, the vessels of the first are allowed to replenish, and, by a return of this weight, this repulsion again succeeds ; thus accelerating the circulation of the blood. The heat produced in any given time, depends on the degree of this acceleration ; the fluids are shaken, the humors attenuated, the secretions facilitated, and all goes well ; the cheeks are ruddy, and health is estab- lished. Behold your fair friend at Auteuil ; * a lady who received from bounteous nature more really useful science, than half a dozen such pretenders to philosophy as you have been able to extract from all your books. When she honors you with a visit, it is on foot. She walks all hours of the day, and leaves indolence, and its concomitant maladies, to be endured by her horses. In this see at once the preservative of her health and per- sonal charms. But when you go to Auteuil, you must have your carriage, though it is no further from Passy to Auteuil than from Auteuil to Passy. * Madame Helvetius. Q* 198 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. FRANKLIN. Your reasonings grow very tiresome. GOUT. I stand corrected. I will be silent and con- tinue my office ; take that, and that. FRANKLIN. Oh ! Ohh ! Talk on, I pray you ! GOUT. No, no ; I have a good number of twinges for you to-night, and you may be sure of some more to-morrow. FRANKLIN. What, with such a fever! I shall go distracted. Oh ! Eh ! Can no one bear it for me ? GOUT. Ask that of your horses ; they have served you faithfully. FRANKLIN. How can you so cruelly sport with my torments ? GOUT. Sport ! I am very serious. I have here a list of offences against your own health distinctly written, and can justify every stroke inflicted on you. FRANKLIN. Read it then. GOUT. It is too long a detail ; but I will briefly mention some particulars. FRANKLIN. Proceed. I am all attention. GOUT. Do you remember how often you have pro- mised yourself, the following morning, a walk in the grove of Boulogne, in the garden de la Muette, or hi your own garden, and have violated your promise, alleging, at one time, it was too cold, at another too warm, too windy, too moist, or what else you pleased ; when in truth it was too nothing, but your insuperable love of ease ? FRANKLIN. That I confess may have happened occasionally, probably ten times in a year. GOUT. Your confession is very far short of the truth ; the gross amount is one hundred and ninety-nine times. FRANKLIN. Is it possible? GOUT. So possible, that it is fact ; you may rely on the accuracy of my statement. You know Mr. Brillon's MISCELLANEOUS. 199 gardens, and what fine walks they contain ; you know the handsome flight of an hundred steps, which lead from the terrace above to the lawn below. You have been in the practice of visiting this amiable family twice a week, after dinner, and it is a maxim of your own, that " a man may take as much exercise in walking a mile, up and down stairs, as in ten on level ground." What an opportunity was here for you to have had exercise in both these ways ! Did you embrace it, and how often? FRANKLIN. I cannot immediately answer that question. GOUT. I will do it for you; not once. FRANKLIN. Not once ? GOUT. Even so. During the summer you went there at six o'clock. You found the charming lady, with her lovely children and friends, eager to walk with you, and entertain you with their agreeable conversa- tion ; and what has been your choice ? Why to sit on the terrace, satisfying yourself with the fine prospect, and passing your eye over the beauties of the garden below, without taking one step to descend and walk about in them. On the contrary, you call for tea and the chess-board ; and lo ! you are occupied in your seat till nine o'clock, and that besides two hours' play after dinner; and then, instead of walking home, which would have bestirred you a little, you step into your carriage. How absurd to suppose that all this care- lessness can be reconcilable with health, without my interposition ! FRANKLIN. I am convinced now of the justness of poor Richard's remark, that " Our debts and our sins are always greater than we think for." GOUT. So it is. You philosophers are sages in your maxims, and fools in your conduct. 200 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. FRANKLIN. But do you charge among my crimes, that I return in a carriage from Mr. Brillon's ? GOUT. Certainly; for, having been seated all the while, you cannot object the fatigue of the day, and cannot want therefore the relief of a carriage: FRANKLIN. What then would you have me do with my carriage? GOUT. Burn it if you choose ; you would at least get heat out of it once in this way ; or, if you dislike that proposal, here 's another for you ; observe the poor peasants, who work in the vineyards and grounds about the villages of Passy, Auteuil, Chaillot, &c. ; you may find every day, among these deserving creatures, four or five old men and women, bent and perhaps crippled by weight of years, and too long and too great labor. After a most fatiguing day, these people have^ to trudge a mile or two to their smoky huts. Order your coach- man to set them down. This is an act that will be good for your soul ; and, at the same time, after your visit to the Brillons, if you return on foot, that will be good for your body. FRANKLIN. Ah ! how tiresome you are ! GOUT. Well, then, to my office ; it should not be forgotten that I am your physician. There. FRANKLIN. Ohhh ! what a devil of a physician ! GOUT. How ungrateful you are to say so ! Is it not I who, in the character of your physician, have saved you from the palsy, dropsy, and apoplexy ? one or other of which would have done for you long ago, but for me. FRANKLIN. I submit, and thank you for the past, but entreat the discontinuance of your visits for the future ; for, in my mind, one had better die than be cured so dolefully. Permit me just to hint, that I have also not been unfriendly to you. I never feed physician or quack of any kind, to enter the list against you ; if MISCELLANEOUS. 201 then you do not leave me to my repose, it may be said you are ungrateful too. GOUT. I can scarcely acknowledge that as any objection. As to quacks, I despise them ; they may kill you indeed, but cannot injure me. And, as to regular physicians, they are at last convinced, that the gout, in such a subject as you are, is no disease, but a remedy ; and wherefore cure a remedy ? — but to our business, — there. FRANKLIN. Oh! Oh! — for Heaven's sake leave me; and I promise faithfully never more to play at chess, but to take exercise daily, and live temperately. GOUT. I know you too well. You promise fair; but, after a few months of good health, you will return to your old habits ; your fine promises will be forgotten like the forms of the last year's clouds. Let us then finish the account, and I will go. But I leave you with an assurance of visiting you again at a proper time and place ; for my object is your good, and you are sensible now that I am your real friend. TO MADAME HELVETIUS, AT AUTEUIL. And now I mention your friends, let me tell you, that I have in my way been trying to form some hypothesis to acceunt for your having so many, and of such various kinds. I see that statesmen, philosophers, historians, poets, and men of learning of all sorts, are drawn around you, and seem as willing to attach them- selves to you as straws about a fine piece of amber. It is not that you make pretensions to any of their sciences ; and, if you did, similarity of studies does not always make, people love one another. It is not, that VOL. ii. 26 202 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. you take pains to engage them ; artless simplicity is a striking part of your character. I would not attempt to explain it by the story of the ancient, who, being asked why philosophers sought the acquaintance of kings, and kings not that of philosophers, replied, that philosophers knew what they wanted, which was not always the case with kings. Yet thus far the com- parison may go, that we find in your sweet society, that charming benevolence, that amiable attention to oblige, that disposition to please and be pleased, which we do not always find hi the society of one another. It springs from you ; it has its influence on us all ; and in your company we are not only pleased with you, but better pleased with one another, and with ourselves. I am ever, with great respect and affection, &c. B. F. A MADAME HELVETIUS. CHAGRINE de votre resolution barbare, prononcee si positivement hier au soir, de rester seule pendant la vie en honneur de votre cher mari, je me retirois chez moi, tombois sur mon lit, me croyois mort, et que je me trou- vois dans les Champs-Elisees. On me demanda si j'avois en vie de voir quelques personnages particuliers. "Menez-moi chez les philo- sophes." "II y en a deux qui demeurent ici pres dans ce jardin ; ils sont de tres-bons voisins, et tres-amis 1'un de 1'autre." "Qui sont-ils?" "Socrate et Helvetius." "Je les estime prodigieusement tous les deux; mais faites-moi voir premierement Helvetius, parce que j'en- tends un peu de Fran£ois et pas un mot de Grec." — II m'a recu avec beaucoup de courtoisie, m'ayant connu, disoit-il, de reputation il y avoit quelque temps. II me MISCELLANEOUS. 203 demanda mille choses sur la guerre, et sur 1'etat present de la religion, de la liberte, et du gouvernement en France. " Vous ne demandez done rien," lui dis-je, " de votre chere amie Madame Helvetius ; et cependant elle vous aime encore excessivement, et il n'y a qu'une heure que j'etois chez elle." "Ah!" dit-il, "vous me faites ressouvenir de mon ancienne felicite. Mais il faut 1'oublier pour etre heureux ici. Pendant plusieurs des premieres annees, je n'ai pense qu'a elle. Enfin je suis console. J'ai pris une autre femme ; la plus semblable a elle que j'ai pu trouver. Elle n'est pas, il est vrai, tout-a-fait si belle, mais elle a autant de bon sens, beau- coup d'esprit, et elle m'aime infiniment. Son etude con- tinuelle est de me plaire, et elle est sortie actuellement chercher le meilleur nectar et ambroisie pour me regaler ce soir ; restez avec moi et vous la verrez." " J'apper- 9ois," dis-je, " que votre ancienne amie est plus fidelle que vous ; car plusieurs bons partis lui ont ete offerts qu'elle a refuses tous. Je vous confesse que je Pai aimee, moi, a la folie ; mais elle etoit dure a mon egard, et m'a rejete absolument pour 1'amour de vous." " Je vous plains," dit-il, " de votre malheur ; car vraiment c'est une bonne et belle femme, et bien aimable. Mais 1'Abbe de la R * * * *, et 1'Abbe M * * * *, ne sont-ils pas encore quelquefois chez elle?" "Oui assurement; car elle n'a pas perdu un seul de vos amis." "Si vous aviez gagne 1'Abbe M * * * * (avec du bon cafe a la creme) a parler pour vous, vous auriez peut-etre reussi; car il est raisonneur subtil comme Duns Scotus ou St. Thomas ; il met ses arguments en si bon ordre qu'Us deviennent presque irresistibles. Et si 1'Abbe de la R * * avoit ete gagne (par quelque belle edition d'un vieux classique) a parler contre vous, cela auroit ete mieux; car j'ai toujours observe, que quand il lui conseilla quelque chose, elle avoit un penchant tres-fort FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. a faire le revers." A ces mots entra la nouvelle Madame Helvetius avec le nectar; a 1'instant je 1'ai reconnue pour etre Madame Franklin, mon ancienne amie Americaine. Je 1'ai reclamee, mais elle me dit froidement; "J'ai ete votre bonne femme quarante- neuf annees et quatre mois ; — presqu'un demi-siecle ; soyez content de cela. J'ai forme ici une nouvelle con- nexion, qui durera a 1'eternite." Indigne de ce refus de mon Eurydice, je pris de suite la resolution de quitter ces ombres ingrates, et revenir en ce bon monde, revoir le soleil et vous. — Me voici! — Vengeom-nous ! TRANSLATION. TO MADAME HELVETIUS. MORTIFIED at the barbarous resolution pronounced by you so positively yesterday evening, that you would remain single the rest of your life, as a compliment due to the memory of your husband, I retired to my chamber. Throwing myself upon my bed, I dreamt that I was dead, and was transported to the Elysian Fields. I was asked whether I wished to see any persons in particular ; to which I replied, that I wished to see the philosophers. " There are two who live here at hand in this garden ; they are good neighbours, and very friendly towards one another." "Who are they?" " Socra- tes and Helvetius." " I esteem them both highly ; but let me see Helvetius first, because I understand a little French, but not a word of Greek." I was conducted to him ; he received me with much courtesy, having known me, he said, by character, some time past. He asked me a thousand questions relative to the war, the present state of religion, of liberty, of the government in France. " You do not inquire, then," said I, " after your dear friend, Madame Helvetius ; yet she loves you exceedingly ; I was in her company not more than an hour ago." " Ah," said he, " you make me recur to my past happiness, which ought to be forgotten in order to be happy here. For many years I could think of nothing but her, though at length I am consoled. I have taken another wife, the MISCELLANEOUS. 205 most like hei that I could find; she is not indeed altogether so handsome, but she has a great fund of wit and good sense ; and her whole study is to please me. She is at this moment gone to fetch the best nectar and ambrosia to regale me ; stay here awhile and you will see her." " I perceive," said I, " that your former friend is more faithful to you than you are to her ; she has had several good offers, but has refused them all. I will confess to you that I loved her extremely ; but she was cruel to me, and rejected me peremptorily for your sake." " I pity you sincerely," said he, " for she is an excellent woman, handsome and amiable. But do not the Abbe de la R * * * * and the Abbe M ***** visit her?" " Certainly they do ; not one of your friends has dropped her acquaintance." " If you had gained the Abbe M * * * * with a bribe of good coffee and cream, perhaps you would have succeeded : for he is as deep a reasoner as Duns Scotus or St. Thomas ; he arranges and methodizes his arguments in such a manner that they are almost irresistible. Or, if by a fine edition of some old classic, you had gained the Abbe de la R * * * * to speak against you, that would have been still better ; as I always oberved, that when he recommended any thing to her, she had a great inclination to do directly the contrary." As he finished these words the new Madame Helvetius entered with the nectar, and I recognised her imme- diately as my former American friend, Mrs. Franklin ! I reclaimed her, but she answered me coldly ; " I was a good wife to you for forty-nine years and four months, nearly half a century ; let that content you. I have formed a new connexion here, which will last to eternity." Indignant at this refusal of my Eurydice, I immediately resolved to quit those ungrateful shades, and return to this good world again, to behold the sun and you ! Here I am ; let us avenge ourselves ! VOL. II. R 206 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. TRES-HUMBLE REQUETE PRESENTEE A MADAME HELVETIUS PAR SES CHATS. [Probably written by the Abbe Morellet] TRES-ILLUSTRE ET TRES-BOJTNE DAME, Une nouvelle afireuse vient troubler le bonheur dont nous jouissions dans votre basse-cour et dans votre bucher. Nous apprenons que sur un expose calom- nieux, nos ennemis, vos Abbes,* vous ont fait porter une sentence de proscription centre nous; qu'a 1'aide d'une invention diabolique, nous devons etre pris, mis dans un tonneau, roules jusqu'a la riviere et abandonnes a la merci des flots ; et au moment ou nous vous griffon- nons notre tres-humble requete, nous entendons les coups de la hache et du marteau de votre cocher, qui fa£onne 1'instrument du supplice qu'on nous prepare. Mais, tres-illustre dame, serons-nous done condamnes sans etre entendus ; et serons-nous les seules de tant de creatures vivante^s a vos depens qui ne trouverons pas votre ame juste et sensible ? Nous voyons tous les jours vos bienfaisantes mains nourrir deux ou trois cents poulets, autant de serins, des pigeons sans nombre, tous les moineaux de la banlieue, tous les merles du Bois de Boulogne, et jusqu'a des chiens ; et nous seuls cesse- rions d'eprouver les effets de votre bienfaisance, et, ce qui est affreux a penser, nous deviendrions les objets d'une cruaute bien etrangere a votre ame et que vous n'aurez jamais eue que pour nous ? Non, la bonte natu- relle de votre coeur vous ramenera a des sentimens plus dignes de votre chateite. Eh, quels crimes avons-nous commis? On nous accuse, (le dirons-nous jusqu'ou s'emporte la calomnie ?) on nous accuse de manger vos poulets lorsqu'ils sont encore jeunes, de detourner de terns en terns quelques * Morellet et La Roche. MISCELLANEOUS. 207 pigeons, de guetter sans cesse vos serins, et d'en accro- cher quelques-uns par les mailles du treillage de votre voliere, et de laisser les souris infester votre maison. Mais suffit-il d'imputer des crimes pour faire des coupables 1 Nous pouvons repousser ces horribles ac- cusations. Qu'il nous soit d'abord permis d'observer qu'on ne les appuie d'aucunes preuves. Quand on produiroit les pieds de quelques pigeons ou les plumes d'un poulet, sont-ce la des temoins qui puissent etre admis dans quelque tribunal que ce soit? Mais les grands crimes sont les suites de la misere et du besoin, et nous recevons tous les jours de vous, a dix-huit chats que nous sommes, une subsistance abondante. II ne nous manque rien. Egratignerions-nous la main qui nous nourrit? Plus d'une fois, sous vos yeux, vos poulets sont venus manger avec nous au meme plat, sans que vous ayez appercu de notre part le plus leger mouvement d'impatience ; et si 1'on vous dit que nous ne mangeons jamais de poulets lorsqu'on nous observe, que c'est la nuit que nous commettons les meurtres dont on nous accuse, nous repondrons que ce sont nos calom- niateurs qui se cachent dans les tenebres pour tramer contre nous leurs laches complots, puisqu'ils sont re- duits a nous imputer des crimes nocturnes, que dement sans cesse notre conduite de tout le jour. Mais, disent nos ennemis, la basse-cour de Madame lui coute 25 louis par an, il s'y eleve environ deux . ou trois cents poulets, elle n'en mange pas cinquante, qui lui reviennent, par sa grande economie, a 12 livres la piece ; et que devient le reste ? Nous oserons le demander, d'abord nous a-t-on donne les poulets en compte et en garde, et pouvons-nous en repondre? Au milieu de ce grand nombre d'etres destructeurs, les homines, tous convaincus que les poulets ne sont au monde que pour etre manges par 208 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. eux, ce n'est pas sur nous que doivent porter les premiers soup9ons. H se fait tous les Dimanches a la porte du Bois de Boulogne et dans les cabarets d'Au- teuil cent fricassees ; n'est-il pas plus que vraisemblable qu'il s'y glisse quelques-uns de vos poulets ? et certes ce n'est pas de nous que les aubergistes les tiennent. Apres tout, Madame, et sans pretendre faire 1'apologie des voleurs de poulets, qu'il nous soit permis d'observer que quelles que soient les causes qui en diminuent un peu le nombre, elles sont dans 1'ordre de la nature et salutaires pour vous-meme dans leurs effets, puisqu'elles contiennent dans des limites convenables la multiplica- tion de cette espece, qui convertiroit bientot votre maison toute entiere en un poulailler, et qui vous reduiroit a n'avoir plus de chemises pour avoir plus de poulets. Quant aux pigeons, on a vu disparoitre, il est vrai, plusieurs des enfans de Coco ; * mais il ne faut pas que votre tendresse pour lui, qui va jusqu'a lui laisser casser vos porcelaines pourvu qu'il daigne manger dans votre main, vous rende injuste envers nous. Ou est la preuve que nous ayons mange ses enfans ? Lui et ses pareils s'approchent-ils jamais de nous ? Toujours sur les toits, ou se tenant a distance, ne nous montrent-ils pas une defiance dont nous aurions le droit d'etre blesses 1 Qu'on visite tout le bucher au printems pro- chain; et si 1'on decouvre quelque trace du meurtre, nous serons les premiers a rechercher et a livrer le coupable; mais quoi, les pigeons ne sont pas, comme nous autres pauvres chats, attaches au sol qui les a vu naitre ; ils peuvent voler par les airs a une autre patrie ; ceux qui vous manquent, jaloux sans doute de la preference que vous montrez a quelques-uns d'entre eux, ont ete chercher 1'egalite dans des colombiers * Pigeon apprivoise et favori de Madame Helvetius. MISCELLANEOUS. 209 republicans, plutot que de trainer 1'aile sous la domina- tion insolente de vos pigeons favoris. L'accusation qu'on intente centre nous d'avoir attrape quelques-uns de vos serins, est une imposture grossiere. Les mailles de leur voliere sont si petites, que lorsqu'en jouant nous essayons d'y passer nos pattes, nous avons beaucoup de peine a les en retirer. Nous nous amu- sons, il est vrai, quelquefois a voir de pres leurs jeux innocens; mais nous n'avons pas a nous reprocher le sang d'aucun de ces jolis oiseaux. Nous ne nous defendrons pas de meme d'avoir mange autant de moineaux, de merles et de grives, que nous en avons pu attraper; mais ici nous avons pour nous vos Abbes memes, nos plus cruels ennemis ; ils se plaignent sans cesse du degat de cerises que les moi- neaux font, disent-ils, a leur prejudice. Le Sieur Abbe M * * * * montre une haine ardente contre les grives et les merles, qui depouillent vos treilles de raisins, ainsi que lui. Mais il nous semble, tres-illustre Dame, qu'il vaudroit autant que vos raisins fussent manges par des merles que par des Abbes, et qu'en vain ferons-nous la chasse a ces pillards ailes, si vous tolerez chez vous d'autres voleurs a deux pieds sans plumes qui y font encore de plus grands degats. Nous savons qu'on nous accuse aussi de manger les rossignols qui ne volent rien, et qui chantent, dit-on, fort agreablement. II se peut en effet que nous en ayons croque quelques-uns, dans 1'ignorance ou nous etions de votre affection particuliere pour eux ; mais leur plu- mage terne et gris ressemble beaucoup a celui des moineaux, et nous ne nous connoissons pas assez en musique pour distinguer le ramage des uns et des autres, Un chat de M. Piccini * nous a dit, que quand * Compositeur Italien. VOL. ii. 27 R* 210 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. on ne savoit que miauler on ne pouvoit pas juger de 1'art du chant, et cette maxime suffit a notre justification. Cependant nous mettrons desormais le plus grand sob a distinguer les Gluckistes* qui sont, nous a-t-il dit, les moineaux, des Picdnistes, qui sont les rossignols. Nous vous supplions seulement de nous pardonner les erreurs ou nous pourrions tomber en denichant quelque couvee de Piccinistes, qu'il est impossible de reconnoitre lors- qu'ils sont sans plumes, et qu'ils n'ont pas encore appris & chanter. La derniere imputation que nous repousserons, tres- illustre Dame, est celle qu'on tire contre nous du grand nombre de souris dont votre maison est infestee. Elles font, dit-on, un degat horrible dans votre Sucre et vos confitures ; elles rongent les livres de vos savans, et jusqu'aux mules de Mademoiselle Luillierf dans le terns meme qu'elle marche. On pretend que les chats n'etant crees et mis au monde par la Providence, (qui veille avec une egale bonte sur les chats et les souris,) que pour manger les souris, quand ils ne remplissent pas leur destination, on n'a rien de mieux a faire que de les noyer. Certainement, tres-illustre Dame, il vous est aise de reconnoitre le langage de 1'interet personnel dans la bouche de nos accusateurs. Le Sieur Cabanis,J qui fait chez vous une consommation enorme de confitures et qui va sans cesse derobant des morceaux de sucre lorsqu'il croit n'etre pas vu, a ses raisons pour vous faire regarder comme un crime capital la gourman- dise de quelques souris qui ecornent un pain, ou enta- ment avant lui un pot de gelee de groseilles ; mais il montre une ame encore plus atroce qu'interessee lors- * Cluck, compositeur Allemand. f Vieille femme-de-chambre de Madame H. J Ami de Madame H. demeurant chez elle. MISCELLANEOUS. 211 qu'il nous juge dignes de mort parce que nous n'empe- chons pas ces petites betes de faire la millieme partie d'un degat que lui-meme, tout grand qu'il est, fait sans discretion comme sans remords; et pousseroit-il plus loin sa barbaric envers nous si, comme lui et les souris, nous etions nous-memes des animaux sucro'-phages et conftturi-vores 1 N'est-il pas manifeste que sa gour- mandise seule lui inspire des sentimens si cruels, et pourriez-vous leur donner entree dans votre coeur 1 Pour les livres du Sieur Abbe de la Roche et de cet autre savant,* dont nous avons lu tout-a-1'heure le dis- cours a 1'Academie enveloppant un mou de veau que vous avez eu la bonte de nous faire donner ; quel est done le grand mal que les souris mangent un peu de leurs bouquins? A quoi leurs servent toutes leurs lectures? Depuis qu'ils vivent aupr£s de vous, ne doivent-ils pas s'etre pleinement convaincus de 1'inutilite du savoir ? Us vous voient bonne, sans le secours d'au- cun Traite de Morale; amiable sans avoir lu I'Jlrt de Plaire de notre historiographe Moncrief, et heureuse sans connoitre le Traite, du Bonheur, du malheureux Maupertuis ; en meme terns qu'ils sont les temoins jour- naliers de votre profonde ignorance. Us savent beau- coup de choses, mais ils ignorent 1'art que vous savez si bien de vous passer de rien savoir. Votre orthographe n'est pas beaucoup meilleure que la notre, et votre ecriture ne vaut pas mieux que notre griffonage. Vous ecrivez boneure pour bonheur ; mais vous possedez la chose sans savoir comment son nom s'ecrit; enfin, ce bonheur meme qu'ils ne savent pas puiser dans leurs livres, du haut de votre ignorance vous le repandez sur eux. Les souris ne leur font done pas un si grand tort Quant aux mules de Mademoiselle Luillier, pour peu qu'elle voulut aller moins lentement, les souris ne lui *L'Abb6Morellet 212 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. mangeroient pas les pieds ; et il est etrange qu'on nous condamne a la mort parce que votre femme-de-chambre n'a gueres plus de mouvement qu'un lima^on. Ces raisons si fortes ne sont pas encore les seules qui peuvent nous excuser envers vous des degats que les souris font dans votre maison. Ah ! tres-illustre Dame, en quelle conscience peut-on se plaindre de ce que nous ne prenons pas vos souris, lorsque vous avez sans cesse aupres de vous deux monstres alteres de notre sang, qui ne nous permettent pas d'approcher de votre chere personne, comme la reconnoissance et le devoir nous y porteroient? deux chiens, c'est tout dire ; animaux nourris dans la haine des chats, dont les aboiemens continuels nous remplis- sent de terreur. Comment ose-t-on nous reprocher de nous tenir eloignes des lieux ou regnent ces animaux feroces, en qui la nature a mis 1'aversion pour notre race et la force pour la detruire ? Encore, si nous n'avions affaire qu'a des chiens Francois, leur haine ne seroit pas si active, leur ferocite seroit moindre ; mais vous etes toujours accompagnee d'un bull-dog que vous avez fait venir d'Angleterre (au mepris des sages disposi- tions de M. le Controleur-General), et qui nous hait doublement, comme chats Francois. Nous voyons, sous nos yeux, tous les jours, les cruels effets de sa rage, dans la queue depouillee de notre frere Le JYbir. No- tre zele pour votre service, et meme le gout que nous avons pour les souris nous conduiroit a la chasse dans vos appartemens, si nous n'en etions pas bannis par ces ennemis redoutables que vous en avez rendus les mai- tres. Qu'on cesse done de nous reprocher les desordres que causent chez vous les souris, puisqu'on nous met dans 1'impossibilite de les reprimer. Helas ! ils ne sont plus ces terns heureux, ou 1'illustre chat Pompon regnoit dans ces memes lieux, dormoit sur MISCELLANEOUS. 213 vos genoux, et reposoit sur votre couche ; ou cette Zemire* aujourd'hui si ardente a nous chasser de chez vous, et qui entre en fureur au seul mot de chat, faisoit humblement sa cour au favori dont elle occupe aujour- d'hui la place. Alors nous marchions la queue levee dans toute la maison. Feu M. Pompon daignoit quel- quefois partager avec le dernier d'entre nous les lapins que Sa Majeste lui envoyoit de sa chasse, et a 1'ombre du credit de cet illustre favori nous jouissions de quel- que paix et de quelque bonheur. Cet heureux terns n'est plus ! Nous vivons sous un regne de chien, et nous regrettons sans cesse le chat, sous 1'empire duquel nous avons coule de si beaux jours ! Aussi aliens-nous toutes les nuits arroser de nos pleurs le pied du cypres que couvre sa tombe. Ah! tres-illustre Dame, que le souvenir du chat que vous avez tant aime, vous touche au moins de quelque pitie pour nous. Nous ne sommes pas a la verite de sa race, puisqu'il fut voue des sa jeunesse a la chastete ; mais nous sommes de son espece. Ses manes, errans encore dans ces lieux, vous demandent la revocation de 1'ordre sanguinaire qui menace nos jours ; nous emploie- rons tous ceux que vous conserverez a vous miauler notre vive reconnoissance, et nous la transmettrons aux coeurs de nos enfans et des enfans de nos enfans. * Petite chienne. 214 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. TRANSLATION. AN HUMBLE PETITION, PRESENTED TO MADAME HELVETIUS BY HER CATS. MOST ILLUSTRIOUS AND EXCELLENT LADY, A terrible piece of news has just reached us, to interrupt the happiness we enjoyed in your poultry-yard and wood-yard. We learn that, in consequence of certain calumnious representations on the part of our enemies, your Abbes,* a sentence of proscription has been issued against us, and that by means of a diabolical invention we are all to be seized, put into a cask, rolled down to the river, and abandoned to the mercy of the waters. At the moment in which we are drawing up this our humble request, we hear the strokes of the hammer and hatchet from the hands of your coach- man, who is employed to frame the instrument of our destruction. But, most illustrious Lady, shall we be condemned without being heard? and shall we be the only creatures among so many fed and nourished by you, who do not find your bosom alive to justice and compassion? We see your beneficent hand every day feeding two or three hundred chickens, as many canary-birds, pigeons without number, all the sparrows of the neighbourly*^, all the blackbirds of the Wood of Boulogne, nay, even the very dogs of your domain ; and shall we alone not only cease to experience the effects of your beneficence, but, what is more terrible to think of, become the objects of a cruelty wholly foreign to your nature, and never exer- cised but towards us ? No, the natural goodness of your heart will recall in you sentiments more worthy of your catology. Alas ! what are the crimes that we have committed ! We are accused — to what lengths will not calumny transport the heart ! — we are accused of eating your chickens while they are still young, of making depredations from time to time upon your pigeons, of watch- ing your canary-birds incessantly, and seizing any that come near enough to the lattice of your aviary, and of suffering the mice to infest your house unmolested. But are imputed crimes sufficient to render any one guilty ? These horrible accusations we can easily repel. In the first place, it must be observed, that they do not rest upon any proofs. Granted that the feet of some pigeons, or the feathers of some chickens, may * The Abbes Morellet and La Roche. MISCELLANEOUS. 215 be produced ; can these be admitted as evidence before any tribunal upon earth ? Great crimes are, besides, the consequences of great misery and want, and we receive every day from you, to the number of eighteen cats, of which our troop consists, abundant means of subsistence ; nothing is wanting to us. And can we be supposed to scratch the hand by which we are nourished ? Have you not, more than once, with your own eyes, seen your chickens come and eat off the same dish with us, without the least hostile movement on our part ? And if you are told that we never eat the chickens when con- scious that we are observed, that it is by night our murders are committed, we answer, that it is our calumniators who hide them- selves under the veil of darkness to frame their cruel plots against us. This we may the rather say, since they are reduced to impute to us nocturnal crimes, which are contradicted by our conduct throughout the day. But, say our enemies, the poultry-yard of our most illustrious lady is maintained at an expense of twenty-five louis annually, while, of two or three hundred chickens reared there, she never eats more than fifty; so that, from her great economy, they cost her only twelve livres each ; what then becomes of the rest ? We will ask, in the first place, were the chickens numbered and consigned to our care, and are we answerable for them ? Sur- rounded by so many destructive beings, by mankind in particular, who are firmly persuaded that chickens were only created to be eaten by them, is it on us that the first suspicion can with justice fall ? Every Sunday, at the gate of the Wood of Boulogne, and in the public houses of Auteuil, a hundred fricassees are served up ; is it not probable that some of your chickens may have glided gently in among them ? and certainly it is not by us that they are remitted to the innkeepers. After all, Madam, without wishing to become the apologists of chicken-stealers, let us be permitted to observe, that whatever may be the causes which occasion the diminution com- plained of in your stock of poultry, they are in the order of nature, and produce a salutary effect to yourself, since they restrain within due bounds the multiplication of this species, which, if suffered to go on unrestrained, would soon convert your whole house into a recep- tacle for chickens, and reduce you to going without a shift, that no limits may be placed to the number of your fowls. As to the pigeons, it must be allowed that several of the children of Coco * have disappeared ; but you must not permit your tenderness * A favorite tame pigeon of Madame Helvetius, to which she had given that name. 216 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. for him, which goes so far as to suffer him to break your china, pro- vided he will condescend to eat out of your hand, to render you unjust towards us. Where is the proof that we have ever eaten any of his children 1 or do we and his species ever approach each other ? Always keeping upon the roofs of the houses at a distance from us, do they not manifest a distrust "of us, at which we have just reason to be offended 1 Let the whole wood-yard be examined next spring, and if any traces of murder be discovered, we will be among the most forward in endeavouring to detect the malefactors, and give them up to justice. But the pigeons are not like us poor humble cats, confined to the soil where we were born ; they can fly in the air to another country ; those whom you miss, jealous no doubt of the preference shown by you to some over the rest, have taken their flight in search of equality, to some republican dove-cote, rather than drag on a painful existence under the insolent tyranny of your favorite Coco. The accusation brought against us with regard to the canary- birds, you must see yourself is wholly absurd, and a gross imposture. The intervals in the lattice of your aviary are so narrow, that when sometimes we have in sport endeavoured to thrust a paw through them, it was not without the utmost difficulty that we could withdraw it again. It is true, that we sometimes amuse ourselves with watch- ing the little innocent sports of these pretty creatures, but we cannot reproach ourselves with having ever shed a drop of their blood. We shall not endeavour to defend ourselves equally from devouring as many sparrows, blackbirds, and thrushes, as we can possibly catch. But here we have to plead in extenuation, that our most cruel enemies, your Abbes themselves, are incessantly complaining of the ravages made by these birds among the cherries and other fruit. The Sieur Abbe Morellet, in particular, is always thundering the most violent anathemas against the blackbirds and thrushes, for plundering your vines, which they do with as little mercy as he him- self. To us, however, most illustrious Lady, it appears that the grapes may just as well be eaten by blackbirds as by Abbes, and that our warfare against the winged plunderers will be fruitless, if you encourage other biped and featherless pilferers, who make ten times more havoc. We know that we are also accused of eating nightingales, who never plunder, and sing, as they say, most enchantingly. It is indeed possible that we may now and then have gratified our palates with a delicious morsel in this way, but we can assure you that it was in utter ignorance of your affection for the species ; and that, MISCELLANEOUS. 217 resembling sparrows in their plumage, we, who make no pretensions to being connoisseurs in music, could not distinguish the song of the one from that of the other, and therefore supposed ourselves regaling only on sparrows. A cat belonging to M. Piccini * has assured us, that they who only know how to mew, cannot be any judges of the art of singing ; and on this we rest for our justification. However, we will henceforward exert our utmost endeavours to distinguish the Glucldsts,^ who are, as we are informed, the sparrows, from the Piccinists, who are the nightingales. We only intreat of you to pardon the inadvertence into which we may possibly fall, if, in roving after nests, we may sometimes fall upon a brood of Piccinists, who, being then destitute of plumage, and not having learnt to sing, will have no mark by which to distinguish them. The last imputation we are called upon to repel, most illustrious Lady, is that of suffering your house to be infested with such a quantity of mice. They make terrible havoc, it is said, with your sugar and sweetmeats ; they gnaw the books of your savans, and even nibble the slippers of Mademoiselle Luillier, J as she is walking. It is urged, that cats, being created by Providence (who watches with equal goodness over all his creatures) for no other purpose but to eat mice, deserve nothing better when they fail in the object of their vocation, than to be drowned. Certainly, most illustrious Lady, it is easy to discover in this lan- guage, the influence of personal interest in the mouths of oui accusers. The Sieur Cabanis,§ who makes an enormous consump- tion of sweetmeats in your house, and who is always ready to steal a lump of sugar when he thinks he can do it unobserved, has certainly very good reasons for making you consider the gonrmandise of a few mice, who nibble a loaf of sugar, or begin eating a pot of jelly before him, as a capital crime ; but he shows a mind still more atrocious than interested, when he would condemn us as meriting death because we do not prevent the little animals availing themselves, to the best of their power, of a system of spoliations which he himself, great as he is, practises every day without discretion and without remorse. Could he carry his barbarity towards us further, if we were, like the mice and himself, sugarivorous and siocctmcativorous animals? Is it not manifest, that gourmandise alone inspires him * An Italian composer. f The admirers of Cluck, a German composer. J An old waiting-maid of Madame Helvetius. § A friend of Madame Helvetius, who lived in her house. ii. 28 s 218 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. with sentiments so cruel, and can you give them admission into your bosom? With regard to the books of the Abbe de la Roche, and that other savant* whose speech at the Academy we just now read as it wrapped up a calf's lights which you had the goodness to give us ; with regard to their books, we ask, where is the great harm if they are sometimes gnawed a little by the mice? Of what use to them is all their reading ? Since they have lived with you, must they not be fully convinced of the inutility of all knowledge ? They see you good without the assistance of Treatises upon Morals ; charming in your manners without having read our historiographer Moncrief's Art of Pleasing; and happy without being acquainted with the Treatise on Happiness, by the unfortunate Maupertuis. While they are the daily witnesses of your profound ignorance, they, who know so many things, are wholly unacquainted with the art you know so well, — of being able to dispense with knowing any thing. Your orthography is not much better than ours, and your writing is very like the scratching of a cat's paw. You totally mistake the way to spell happiness, but you enjoy the thing without knowing how it should be written ; that happiness, in short, which they cannot draw from their books, you shed around them from the eminence of your ignorance. The mice cannot, therefore, as we have proved, do them any great injury. As to the slippers of Mademoiselle Luillier, if she would only creep on at a somewhat less drawling pace, the mice would not be able to get at them ; and it is strange that you would condemn us to death because your waiting-maid moves only a snail's pace. But these reasons, strong as they are, are not the only ones which may excuse us towards you for the spoliations committed in your house by the mice. Ah! most illustrious Lady, with what con- science can we be reproached for not catching them, when you have constantly about you two large dogs thirsting for our blood, who will not permit us to approach your beloved person, as duty and gratitude would lead us to do ? Two dogs ! this is saying enough ; they are animals brought up in the utmost hatred of our species ; their bark- ing always fills us with terror. How can any one be so unjust as to reproach us with keeping at a distance from places where animals thus ferocious, whom nature has inspired with such aversion to us, and such power to destroy us, reign uncontrolled ? Nay, farther, if the question were only of French dogs, there might be hopes that their hatred would not be so active, that their ferocity would not be * The Abbe Morellet MISCELLANEOUS. 219 so alarming ; but you must needs take into your service (in contempt of the wise decrees of the comptroller-general) a bull-dog which you have imported from England, who hates us doubly ; in the first place, as cats, and still more ardently as French cats. We see daily before our eyes the cruel effects of his rage in the shortened tail of our brother Le Noir. Our zeal to serve you, united with the natu- ral taste we have for mice, would lead us to form hunting-parties in your apartments, if we were not banished by these formidable enemies, whom you have made masters of them. Let us no longer, therefore, be reproached with the disorders committed against you by the mice, since we are deprived of the possibility of repressing them. Alas ! those happy times are no more, when that illustrious cat Pompon reigned in these places, slept in your lap, and reposed upon your couch ! when that Zemira* who now so eagerly endeavours to procure our downfall, humbly paid his court to the favorite whose situation he now occupies. Then could we parade about the house with our tails in the air ; the late M. Pompon would sometimes con- descend to share with us the rabbits graciously sent him by His Majesty from his shooting-parties ; and under the protection of this illustrious favorite we enjoyed peace and happiness. Those happy times, we must repeat, are, alas ! no more ; we live under the reign of a DOG ; sunk in deep and lasting regrets for the CAT, beneath whose empire such enjoyments were ours, while our only consolation is to go every night, and water with our tears the cypress which shadows his tomb ! Ah, most illustrious Lady ! let the memory of the cat you so much loved, inspire you at least with some compassion towards us. We are not indeed of his race, since he was devoted to chastity from his youth ; but we are of his species. His manes, still wandering about this spot, call upon you to revoke the sanguinary order which menaces our days ; and all those which you preserve to us shall be consecrated to mewing forth our lasting gratitude, while tke be- neficent act shall be handed down by us to our children's children, f * A little dog. f In this article, and in the others under the head of BAGATELLES, both the French and the translations are printed as they stand in W. T. Franklin's edition. — EDITOR. 220 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. A MONSIEUR L'ABBE DE LA ROCHE, A AUTEUIL. J'AI parcouru, mon cher ami, le petit livre de poesies de M. Helvetius, dont vous m'avez fait cadeau. Le poe'me sur le Bonheur m'a donne beaucoup de plaisir, et m'a fait ressouvenir d'une petite chanson a boire, que j'ai faite il y a quarante ans sur le meme sujet, et qui avoit a-peu-pres le meme plan, et plusieurs des memes pensees, mais bien densement exprimees. La voici. Singer. Fair Venus calls; her voice obey, In beauty's arms spend night and day. The joys of love all joys excel, And loving 's certainly doing well. Chorus. Oh! no! Not so! For honest souls know, Friends and a bottle still bear the bell. Singer. Then let us get money, like bees lay up honey ; We'll build us new hives, and store each cell. The sight of our treasure shall yield us great pleasure ; We'll count it, and chink it, and jingle it well. Chorus. * Oh ! no ! Not so! For honest souls know, Friends and a bottle still bear the bell. Singer. If this does not fit ye, let 's govern the city, In power is pleasure no tongue can tell ; By crowds though you 're teased, your pride shall be pleased, 4nd this can make Lucifer happy in hell! MISCELLANEOUS. 221 Chorus. Oh! no! Not so! For honest souls know, Friends and a bottle still bear the bell. Singer. Then toss off your glasses, and scorn the dull asses, Who, missing the kernel, still gnaw the shell ; What's love, rule, or riches? Wise Solomon teaches, They're vanity, vanity, vanity still. Chorus. That 's true ; He knew; He'd tried them all through; Friends and a bottle still bore the bell. C'est un chanteur, mon cher Abbe, qui exhorte ses compagnons de chercher le bonheur dans Vamour, dans les richesses, et dans le pouvoir. Us repliquent, chan- tant ensemble, que le bonheur ne se trouve pas en aucu- nes de ces choses, et qu'on ne le trouve que dans les amis et le vin. A cette position, le chanteur enfin con- sent. La phrase " bear the bell" signifie en Frai^ois remporter le prix. J'ai souvent remarque, en lisant les ouvrages de M. Helvetius, que quoique nous etions nes et eleves dans deux pays si eloignes Pun de 1'autre, nous nous sommes rencontres souvent dans les memes pensees ; et c'est une reflexion bien flatteuse pour moi, que nous avons aime les memes etudes, et autant que nous les avions connus, les memes amis,* et la memefemme.\ Adieu ! mon cher ami, &c. B. F. * Messrs. Voltaire, Hume, Turgot, Marmontel, d'Holbach, Le Roy, les Abb6s Morellet et La Roche, &c. &c. — W. T. P. f Madame Helvetius. S* 222 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. TRANSLATION. TO THE ABBE DE LA ROCHE, AT AUTEUIL. I HAVE run over, my dear friend, the little book of poetry, by M. Helvetius, with which you presented me. The poem on Happiness pleased me much, and brought to my recollection a little drinking song, which I wrote forty years ago upon the same subject, and which is nearly on the same plan, with many of the same thoughts, but very concisely expressed. It is as follows. Singer. Fair Venus calls, &c. 'Tis a singer, my dear Abbe, who exhorts his companions to seek happiness in love, in riches, and in power. They reply, singing together, that happiness is not to be found in any of these things ; that it is only to be found in friends and wine. To this proposition the singer at length assents. The phrase " bear the bell, " answers to the French expression, " obtain the prize. " I have often remarked, in reading the works of M. Helvetius, that, although we were born and educated in two countries so remote from each other, we have often been inspired with the same thoughts ; and it is a reflection very flattering to me, that we have not only loved the same studies, but, as far as we have mutually known them, the same friends, and the same woman. Adieu ! my dear friend, &c. B F. A MONSIEUR L'ABBfe MORELLET. IT, le * > *. Vous m'avez souvent egaye, mon tres-cher ami, par vos excellentes chansons a boire ; en echange, je desire vous edifier par quelques reflexions Chretiennes, morales et philosophiques, sur le meme sujet. In vino veritas, dit le sage. La verite est dans le vin. Avant Noe done, les hommes, n'ayant que de 1'eau a MISCELLANEOUS. boire, ne pouvoient pas trouver la verite. Ainsi ils s'egarerent, ils devinrent abominablement mediants, et ils furent justement extermines par I'eau qu'ils aimoient a boire. Ce bon-homme Noe, ayant vu que par cette mauvaise boisson tous ses contemporains avoient peri, le prit en aversion ; et Dieu, pour le desalterer, crea la vigne, et lui revela 1'art d'en faire du vin. Par 1'aide de cette liqueur, il decouvrit maintes et maintes verites ; et de- puis son temps, le mot " dermer" a ete en usage, signifiant originairement decouvrir par le moyen du VIN. Ainsi le patriarche Joseph pretendoit deviner au moyen d'une coupe ou verre de VIN ; * liqueur qui a re9u ce nom pour marquer qu'elle n'etoit pas une invention humaine, mais divine ; (autre preuve de 1'antiquite de la langue Fran9oise, centre M. Gebelin.)f Aussi, depuis ce temps, toutes les choses excellentes, meme les Deites, ont ete appelees divines ou divmites. On parle de la conversion de I'eau en vin, a la noce de Cana, comme d'un miracle. Mais cette conversion est faite tous les jours, par la bonte de Dieu, sous nos yeux. Voila I'eau qui tombe des cieux sur nos vigno- bles, et alors elle entre dans les racines des vignes pour etre changee en vin ; preuve constante que Dieu nous aime, et qu'il aime a nous voir heureux. Le miracle particulier a ete fait seulement pour hater 1'operation, dans une circonstance de besoin soudain, qui le deman- doit. II est vrai que Dieu a aussi instruit les hommes a reduire le vin en eau. Mais quelle espece d'eau ? C'est * L'orateur Remain, qui est bien connu par ses mauvaises poesies, d'etre un buveur d'eau, confesse franchement, dans son livre De Diviy- ationc, qu'il ne savoit pas deviner. " Quid futurum sit non rftvmo." — AUTHOR. t Author of "Le Monde primitif compare au Monde modern e" 224 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. /'ecm-de-vie. Et cela, afin que par-la ils puissent, au besom, faire le miracle de Cana, et convertir 1'eau ordinaire en cette espece excellente de vin, qu'on appelle punch I Mon frere Chretien, soyez bienveillant et bienfaisant comme lui, et ne gatez pas son bon ouvrage. II a fait le vin pour nous rejouir. Quand vous voyez votre voisin a table verser du vin dans son verre, ne vous hatez pas a y verser du 1'eau. Pourquoi voulez-vous noyer la verite ? 11 est vraisemblable que votre voisin sait mieux que vous ce qui lui convient. Peut-etre il n'aime pas 1'eau ; peut-etre il ne veut mettre que quel- ques gouttes, par complaisance pour la mode ; peut-etre il ne veut pas qu'un autre observe combien peu il en met dans son verre. Done, n'offrez 1'eau qu'aux enfans; c'est une fausse politesse, et bien incommode. Je vous dis ceci comme homme du monde ; et je finirai, comme j'ai commence, en bon Chretien, en vous faisant une observation religieuse bien importante, et tiree de 1'Ecriture Sainte; savoir que 1'apotre Paul conseilloit bien serieusement a Timothee de mettre du vin dans son eau pour la sante ; mais que pas un des apotres, ni aucuns des saints peres, n'ont jamais conseille de mettre de 1'eau dans le vin ! B. F. P. S. Pour vous confirmer encore plus dans votre piete et reconnoissance £ la Providence Divine, reflechis- sez sur la situation qu'elle a donnee au coude. Vous voyez aussi que les animaux qui doivent boire 1'eau qui coule sur la terre, s'ils ont des jambes longues, ont aussi un cou long, afin qu'ils puissent atteindre leur boisson sans la peine de se mettre a genoux. Mais 1'homme, qui etoit destine ^, boire du vin, doit etre en etat de por- ter le verre a sa bouche. Si le coude avoit etc place plus pres de la main, la partie d'avant auroit ete trop MISCELLANEOUS. 225 courte pour approcher le verre de la bouche ; et s'il avoit ete place plus pres de 1'epaule, la partie seroit si longue qu'il porteroit le verre au-dela de la tete. Ainsi nous aurions ete tantalises. Mais par la presente situa- tion du coude nous sommes en etat de boire a notre aise ; le verre venant justement a la bouche. — Adorons done, le verre a la main, cette sagesse bienveillante ! Adorons, et buvons ! TRANSLATION. TO THE ABBE MORELLET. Passy, * * *. You have often enlivened me, my dear friend, by your excellent drinking songs ; in return, I beg to edify you by some Christian, moral, and philosophical reflections upon the same subject. In vino veritas, says the wise man, — Truth is in wine. Before the days of Noah then, men, having nothing but water to drink, could not discover the truth. Thus they went astray, became abominably wicked, and Were justly exterminated by water, which they loved to drink. The good man Noah, seeing that through this pernicious bev- erage all his cotemporaries had perished, took it in aversion ; and, to quench his thirst, God created the vine, and revealed to him the means of converting its fruit into wine. By means of this liquor he discovered numberless important truths ; so that ever since his time the word to divine has been in common use, signifying originally to discover by means of WINE. Thus the patriarch Joseph took upon himself to divine by means of a cup or glass of WINE;* a liquor which obtained this name to show that it was not of human but divine invention (another proof of the antiquity of the French language, in opposition to M. Gebelin) ; nay, since that time, all things of peculiar excellence, even the Deities themselves, have been called Divine or Dignities. * The Roman orator, who is well known by his bad poetry to have been a water-drinker, frankly acknowledges in his book De Divinations, that he did not know how to divine. " QwtW futurum sit non divino" VOL. ii. 29 226 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in Cana, as of a miracle. But this conversion is, through the goodness of God, made every day before our eyes. Behold the rain, which descends from heaven upon our vineyards, and which incor- porates itself with the grapes to be changed into wine ; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy. The miracle in question was only performed to hasten the operation, under cir- cumstances of present necessity, which required it. It is true that God has also instructed man to reduce wine into water. But into what sort of water ? — Water of Life* And this, that man may be able upon occasion to perform the miracle of Cana, and convert common water into that excellent species of wine which we call punch. My Christian brother, be kind and benevolent like God, and do not spoil his good work. He made wine to gladden the heart of man; — do not, therefore, when at table you see your neighbour pour wine into his glass, be eager to mingle water with it. Why would you drown truth 1 It is probable that your neighbour knows better than you can, what suits him. Perhaps he does not like water ; perhaps he would only put in a few drops for fashion's sake ; perhaps he does not wish any one to observe how much he puts in his glass. Do not then offer water except to children ; 't is a mistaken piece of politeness, and often very inconvenient. I give you this hint as a man of the world ; and I will finish as I began, like a good Christian, in making a religious observation of high importance, taken from the Holy Scriptures; I mean that the apostle Paul counselled Timothy very seriously to put wine into his water for the sake of his health ; but that not one of the apostles or holy fathers ever recommended putting water to wine. B. F. P. S. To confirm still more your piety and gratitude to Divine Providence, reflect upon the situation which it has given to the elbow. You see in animals who are intended to drink the waters that flow upon the earth, that if they have long legs, they have also a long neck, so that they can get at their drink without kneeling down. But man, who was destined to drink wine, is framed in a manner that he may raise the glass to his mouth. If the elbow had been placed nearer the hand, the part in advance would have been too short to bring the glass up to the mouth ; and if it had been nearer the shoulder, that part would have been so long, that when * Eau-de-vie, that is, brandy. MISCELLANEOUS. 227 it attempted to carry the wine to the mouth it would have overshot the mark, and gone beyond the head ; thus, either way, we should have been in the case of Tantalus. But from the actual situation of the elbow we are enabled to drink at our ease, the glass going directly to the mouth. Let us, then, with glass in hand, adore this benevolent wisdom ; — let us adore and drink ! AN ECONOMICAL PROJECT. TO THE AUTHORS OF THE JOURNAL OF PARIS. MESSIEURS, * You often entertain us with accounts of new dis- coveries. Permit me to communicate to the public, through your paper, one that has lately been made by myself, and which I conceive may be of great utility. I was the other evening in a grand company, where the new lamp of Messrs. Quinquet and Lange was introduced, and much admired for its splendor ; but a general inquiry was made, whether the oil it con- sumed was not in proportion to the light it afforded, in which case there would be no saving in the use of it. No one present could satisfy us in that point, which all agreed ought to be known, it being a very desirable thing to lessen, if possible, the expense of lighting our apartments, when every other article of family expense was so much augmented. I was pleased to see this general concern for econ- omy, for I love economy exceedingly. I went home, and to bed, three or four hours after midnight, with my head full of the subject. An acci- dental sudden noise waked me about six in the morn- ing, when I was surprised to find my room filled with 228 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 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 some- thing extraordinary that the sun should rise so early, I looked into the almanac, where I found it to be the hour given for his rising 6n that day. I looked for- ward, too, and found he was to rise still earlier every day till towards the end of June ; and that at no time in the year he retarded his rising so long as till eight o'clock. Your readers, who with me have never seen any signs of sunshine before noon, and seldom regard the astronomical part of the almanac, will be as much astonished as I was, when they hear of his rising so early ; and especially when I assure them, that he gives light as soon as he rises. I am convinced of this. I am certain of my fact. One cannot be more certain of any fact. I saw it with my own eyes. And, having repeated this observation the three following mornings, I found always precisely the same result. Yet it so happens, that when I speak of this dis- covery to others, I can easily perceive by their counte- nances, 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; MISCELLANEOUS. 229 and that of consequence, my windows being acciden- tally left open, instead of letting in the light, had only served to let out the darkness; and he used many ingenious arguments to show me how I might, by that means, have been deceived. I owned that he puzzled me a little, but he did not satisfy me ; and the subse- quent observations I made, as above mentioned, con- firmed me in my first opinion. This event has given rise in my mind to several serious and important reflections. I considered that, if I had not been awakened so early in the morning, I should have slept six hours longer by the light of the sun, and in exchange have lived six hours the following night by candle-light ; and, the latter being a much more expensive light than the former, my love of econ- omy induced me to muster up what little arithmetic I was master of, and to make some calculations, which I shall give you, after observing that utility is, in my opinion, the test of value in matters of invention, and that a discovery which can be applied to no use, or is not good for something, is good for nothing. I took for the basis of my calculation the supposition that there are one hundred thousand families in Paris, and that these families consume in the night half a pound of bougies, or candles, per hour. I think this is a moderate allowance, taking one family with anoth- er; for though I believe some consume less, I know that many consume a great deal more. Then estima- ting seven hours per day as the medium quantity be- tween 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 ; — VOL. II. T FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. In the six months between the 20th of March and the 20th of September, there are Nights . ' . . . ^ ; !;;. 183 Hours of each night in which we burn candles . . .* j-?v . V . 7 Multiplication gives for the total number of hours . 1,281 These 1,281 hours multiplied by 100,000, the number of inhabitants, give 128,100,000 One hundred twenty-eight millions and one hundred thousand hours, spent at Paris by candle-light, which, at half a pound of wax and tallow per hour, gives the weight of . . . . 64,050,000 Sixty-four millions and fifty thousand of pounds, which, estimating the whole at the medium price of thirty sols the pound, makes the sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres tournois •' . "#. ' *'i '< - ^ . . 96,075,000 An immense sum ! that the city of Paris might save every year, by the economy of using sunshine instead of candles. If it should be said, that people are apt to be obsti- nately attached to old customs, and that it will be diffi- cult to induce them to rise before noon, consequently my discovery can be of little use ; I answer, Nil des- perandum. 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. MISCELLANEOUS. 231 Second. Let the same salutary operation of police be made use of, to prevent our burning candles, that in- clined us last whiter to be more economical in burning wood ; that is, let guards be placed hi the shops of the wax and tallow chandlers, and no family be permitted to be supplied with more than one pound of candles per week. Third. Let guards also be posted to stop all the coaches, &,c. that would pass the streets after sun-set, except those of physicians, surgeons, and midwives. Fourth." Every morning, as soon as the sun rises, let all the bells hi every church be set ringing ; and if that is not sufficient, let cannon be fired in every street, to wake the sluggards effectually, and make them open their eyes to see their true interest. All the difficulty will be in the first two or three days ; after which the reformation will be as natural and easy as the present irregularity; for, ce rfest que le premier pas qui coute. Oblige a man to rise at four in the morning, and it is more than probable he will go willingly to bed at eight in the evening; and, having had eight hours sleep, he will rise more willingly at four in the morning following. But this sum of ninety-six millions and seventy-five thousand livres is not the whole of what may be saved by my economical project. You may observe, that I have calculated upon only one half of the year, and much may be saved hi the other, though the days are shorter. Besides, the immense stock of wax and tallow left unconsumed during the summer, will probably make candles much cheaper for the ensuing winter, and continue them cheaper as long as the proposed reformation shall be supported. For the great benefit of this discovery, thus freely communicated and bestowed by me on the public, I demand neither place, pension, exclusive privilege, nor 232 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. any other reward whatever. I expect only to have the honor of it. And yet I know there are little, envious minds, who will, as usual, deny me this, and say, that my invention was known to the ancients, and perhaps they may bring passages out of the old books in prool of it. I will not dispute with these people, that the ancients knew not the sun would rise at certain hours ; they possibly had, as we have, almanacs that predicted it; but it does not follow thence, that they knew he gave light as soon as he rose. This is what I claim as my discovery. If the ancients knew it, it might have been long since forgotten ; for it certainly was unknown to the moderns, at least to the Parisians, which to prove, I need use but one plain simple argument. They are as well instructed, judicious, and prudent a people as exist anywhere in the world, all professing, like myself, to be lovers of economy ; and, from the many heavy taxes required from them by the necessities of the state, have surely an abundant reason to be economical. I say it is impossible that so sensible a people, under such circumstances, should have lived so long by the smoky, unwholesome, and enormously expensive light of candles, if they had really known, that they might have had as much pure light of the sun for nothing. I am, &c. A SUBSCRIBER. MISCELLANEOUS. 233 THE CRAVEN-STREET GAZETTE. While the author resided in London he lived for the most part in the family of Mrs. Stevenson in Craven Street. The following humorous journal pretends to have been kept during a few days' absence of that lady from home. — EDITOR. Saturday, September 22, 1770. THIS morning Queen Margaret, accompanied by her first maid of honor, Miss Franklin, set out for Rochester. Immediately on their departure, the whole street was in tears — • from a heavy shower of rain. It is whispered, that the new family administration, which took place on her Majesty's departure, promises, like all other new administrations, to govern much better than the old one. We hear, that the great person (so called from his enormous size), of a certain family in a certain street, is grievously affected at the late changes, and could hardly be comforted this morning, though the new ministry promised him a roasted shoulder of mutton and potatoes- for his dinner. It is said, that the same great person intended to pay his respects to another great personage this day, at St. James's, it being coronation-day ; hoping thereby a little to amuse his grief; but was prevented by an accident, Queen Margaret, or her maid of honor, having carried off the key of the drawers, so that the lady of the bed- chamber could not come at a laced shirt for his High- ness. Great clamors were made on this occasion against her Majesty. Other accounts say, that the shirts were afterwards VOL. II. 30 T * 234 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. found, though too late, in another place. And some suspect, that the wanting a shirt from those drawers was only a ministerial pretence to excuse picking the locks, that the new administration might have every thing at command. We hear that the lady chamberlain of the household went to market this morning by her own self, gave the butcher whatever he asked for the mutton, and had no dispute with the potato-woman, to their great amaze- ment at the change of times. It is confidently asserted, that this afternoon, the weather being wet, the great person a little chilly, and nobody at home to find fault with the expense of fuel, he was indulged with a fire in his chamber. It seems the design is, to make him contented by degrees with the absence of the Queen. A project has been under consideration of govern- ment, to take the opportunity of her Majesty's absence for doing a thing she was always averse to, namely, fixing a new lock on the street door, or getting a key made to the old one ; it being found extremely incon- venient, that one or other of the great officers of state should, whenever the maid goes out for a ha'penny worth of sand, or a pint of porter, be obliged to attend the door to let her in again. But opinions being divided, which of the two expedients to adopt, the project is, for the present, laid aside. We have good authority to assure our readers, that a Cabinet Council was held this afternoon at tea ; the subject of which was a proposal for the reformation of manners, and a more strict observation of the Lord's day. The result was a unanimous resolution, that no meat should be dressed to-morrow; whereby the cook and the first minister will both be at liberty to go to church, the one having nothing to do, and the other no MISCELLANEOUS. 235 vX roast to rule. It seems the cold shoulder of mutton, and the apple-pie, were thought sufficient for Sunday's dinner. All pious people applaud this measure, and it is thought the new ministry will soon become popular. We hear that Mr. Wilkes was at a certain house in Craven Street this day, and inquired after the absent Queen. His good lady and the children are well. The report, that Mr. Wilkes, the patriot, made the above visit, is without foundation, it being his brother, the courtier. Sunday, September 23. It is now found by sad experience, that good reso- lutions are easier made than executed. Notwithstand- ing yesterday's solemn order of Council, nobody went to church to-day. It seems the great person's broad- built bulk lay so long abed, that the breakfast was not over till it was too late to dress. At least this is the excuse. In fine, it seems a vain thing to hope reforma- tion from the example of our great folks. The cook and the minister, however, both took advantage of the order so far, as to save themselves all trouble, and the clause of cold dinner was en- forced, though the going to church was dispensed with ; just as common working folks observe the com- mandment. The seventh day thou shall rest, they think a sacred injunction ; but the other six days thou shalt labor is deemed a mere piece of advice, which they may practise when they want bread and are out of credit at the ale-house, and may neglect whenever they have money in their pockets. It must, nevertheless, be said, in justice to our court, that, whatever inclination they had to gaming, no cards were brought out to-day. Lord and Lady Hewson walked after dinner to Kensington, to pay their duty to the Dowager, and Dr. Fatsides made four hundred and 236 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. sixty-nine turns in his dining-room, as the exact dis- tance of a visit to the lovely Lady Barwell, whom he did not find at home ; so there was no struggle for and against a kiss, and he sat down to dream in the easy- chair, that he had it without any trouble. Monday, September 24. We are credibly informed, that the great person dined this day with the Club at the Cat and Bagpipes in the City, on cold round of boiled beef. This, it seems, he was under some necessity of doing (though he rather dislikes beef), because truly the ministers were to be all abroad somewhere to dine on hot roast venison. It is thought, that, if the Queen had been at home, he would not have been so slighted. And though he shows outwardly no marks of dissatisfaction, it is suspected, that he begins to wish for her Majesty's return. It is currently reported, that poor Nanny had nothing for dinner in the kitchen, for herself and puss, but the scrapings of the bones of Saturday's mutton. This evening there was high play at Craven Street House. The great person lost money. It is supposed the ministers, as is usually supposed of all ministers, shared the emoluments among them. Tuesday, September 25. This morning the good Lord Hutton called at Craven- Street House, and inquired very respectfully and affectionately concerning the welfare of the Queen. He then imparted to the big man a piece of intelligence important to them both, which he had just received from Lady Hawkesworth, namely, that their amiable and excellent companion, Miss Dorothea Blount, had made a vow to marry absolutely him of the two, whose wife should first depart this life. It is impossible to MISCELLANEOUS. 237 express with words the various agitations of mind ap- pearing in both their faces on this occasion ; vanity at the preference given them over the rest of mankind ; affection for their present wives ; fear of losing them ; hope (if they must lose them) to obtain the proposed comfort; jealousy of each other, in case both wives should die together, — all working at the same time, jumbled their features into inexplicable confusion. They parted, at length, with professions and outward appear- ances of ever-during friendship ; but it was shrewdly suspected, that each of them wished health and long life to the other's wife ; and that however long either of these friends might like to live himself, the other would be very well pleased to survive him. It is remarked, that the skies have wept every day in Craven Street the absence of the Queen. The public may be assured, that this morning a cer- tain great person was asked very complaisantly by the mistress of the household, if he would choose to have the blade-bone of Saturday's mutton, that had been kept for his dinner to-day, broiled or cold. He answer- ed gravely, If there is any flesh on it, it may be broiled ; if not, it may as well be cold. Orders were accordingly given for broiling it. But when it came to table, there was indeed so very little flesh, or rather none at all (puss having dined on it yesterday after Nanny), that, if our new administration had been as good economists as they would be thought, the expense of broiling might well have been saved to the public, and carried to the sinking fund. It is assured the great person bears all with infinite patience. But the nation is astonished at the insolent presumption, that dares treat so much mildness in so cruel a manner. A terrible accident had like to have happened this afternoon at tea. The boiler was set too near the end 238 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. of the little square table. The first ministress was sitting at one end of the table to administer the tea ; the great person was about to sit down at the other end, where the boiler stood. By a sudden motion, the lady gave the table a tilt. Had it gone over, the great person must have been scalded ; perhaps to death. Various are the surmises and observations on this occa- sion. The godly say, it would have been a just judg- ment on him for preventing, by his laziness, the family's going to church last Sunday. The opposition do not stick to insinuate, that there was a design to scald him, prevented only by his quick catching the table. The friends of the ministry give out, that he carelessly jogged the table himself, and would have been inevita- bly scalded, had not the ministress saved him. It is hard for the public to come at the truth in these cases. At six o'clock this afternoon, news came by the post, that her Majesty arrived safely at Rochester on Satur- day night. The bells immediately rang — for candles to illuminate the parlour ; the court went into cribbage ; and the evening concluded with every demonstration of joy. It is reported that all the principal officers of state have received an invitation from the Duchess Dowager of Rochester, to go down thither on Saturday next. But it is not yet known whether the great affairs they have on their hands will permit them to make this excursion. We hear, that, from the tune of her Majesty's leav- ing Craven-Street House to this day, no care is taken to file the newspapers ; but they lie about in every room, in every window, and on every chair, just where the Doctor lays them when he has read them. It iickness on board the king's ships is also more common and more mortal. The merchant's service too he can quit at the end of a voyage, not the king's. Also the merchant's wages are much higher. " I am very sensible of the hardship the sailor sufFereth from an impress in some particular cases, especially if pressed homeward- bound after a long voyage. But the merchants who hear me know, that an impress on outward-bound vessels would be attended with much greater inconveniences to the trade of the kingdom ; and yet that too is sometimes necessary." 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 services voluntarily. " But where two evils present, a wise administration, if there be room for an option, will choose the least" The least evil, in case seamen are wanted, is to give them such wages as will induce them to enlist volun- tarily. Let this evil be divided among the whole nation, by an equal tax to pay such wages. Page 159. " War itself is a great evil, but it is chosen to avoid a greater. The practice of pressing is one of the mischiefs war bringeth with it. But it is a maxim in law, and good policy too, that private mischiefs must be borne with patience for preventing a national calamity" Where is this maxim in law and good policy to be found ? And how came that to 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 that nation, one might have understood it. But that such private mischiefs are only to be borne with patience, is absurd. 334 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. " And |LS no greater calamity can befall us than to be vieak and defenceless at sea in a time of war, so I do not know that the wisdom of the nation hath hitherto found out any method of manning our navy less inconvenient than pressing, and, at the same time, equally sure and effectual." Less inconvenient to whom ? To the rich, indeed, who ought to be taxed. No mischief more incon- venient to poor seamen could possibly be contrived. " The expedient of a voluntary register, which was attempted in King William's time, had no effect. And some late schemes I have seen, appear to me more inconvenient to the mariner, and more inconsistent with the principles of liberty, than the practice of pressing; and, what is still worse, they are in my opinion totally impracticable." Twenty ineffectual or inconvenient schemes will not justify one that is unjust. Page 159. "The crown's right of impressing seamen is ground- ed upon common law." If impressing seamen is of right by common law in Britain, slavery is then of right by common law there ; there being no slavery worse than that sailors are subjected to. Ibid. " The result of evident necessity." Pressing not so, if the end might be answered by giving higher wages. Page 160. " There are many precedents of writs for pressing. Some are for pressing ships ; others for pressing mariners ; and others for pressing ships and mariners. This general view will be sufficient to let us into the nature of these precedents. And though the affair of pressing ships is not now before me, yet I could not well avoid mentioning it, because many of the precedents I have met with and must cite, go as well to that, as to ,the business of pressing mariners. And, taken together, they serve to show the power the crown hath constantly exercised over the whole naval force of the kingdom as well shipping as mariners, whenever the public service required it. This however must be observed, that no man served POLITICAL ECONOMY. 335 the crown in either case at his own expense. Masters and mariners received full wages, and owners were constantly paid a full freight." Fidl wages. Probably the same they received in the merchant's service. Full wages to a seaman in time of war, are the wages he has in the merchant's service in war time. But half such wages is not given in the king's ships to impressed seamen. Page 173. "Do not these things incontestably presuppose the expediency, the necessity, and the legality of an impress in general 1 If they do not, one must entertain an opinion of the legislature acting and speaking in this manner, which it will not be decent for me to mention in this place." I will risk that indecency, and mention it. They were not honest men ; they acted unjustly by the sea- men, (who have no vote in elections, or being abroad cannot use them if they have them,) to save their own purses and those of their constituents. Former parlia- ments acted the same injustice towards the laboring people, who had not forty shillings a year in lands ; after depriving them wickedly of their right to vote in elections, they limited their wages, and compelled them to work at such limited rates, on penalty of being sent to houses of correction. Sec. 8. H. vi. Chap. 7 and 8. Page 174. " I readily admit that an impress is a restraint upon the natural liberty of those who are liable to it. But it must like- wise be admitted, on the other hand, that every restraint upon natural liberty is not eo nomine illegal, or at all inconsistent with the principles of civil liberty. • And if the restraint, be it to what degree soever, appeareth to be necessary to the good and welfare of the whole, and to be warranted by statute law, as well as immemo- rial usage, it cannot be complained of otherwise than as a private mischief ; which, as I said at the beginning, must under all govern- ments whatsoever be submitted to for avoiding a public incon- venience." I do not see the propriety of this must. The private mischief is the loss of liberty and the hazard of life, 336 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. with only half wages, to a great number of honest men. The public inconvenience is merely a higher rate of seamen's wages. He who thinks such private injustice must be done to avoid public inconvenience, may understand law, but seems imperfect in his knowledge of equity. Let us apply this author's doctrine to his own case. It is for the public service that courts should be had and judges appointed to administer the laws. The judges should be bred to the law and skilled in it, but their great salaries are a public incon- venience. To remove the inconvenience, let press- warrants issue to arrest and apprehend the best lawyers, and compel them to serve as judges for half the money they would have made at the bar. Then tell them, that, though this is to them a private mischief, it must be submitted to for avoiding a public incon- venience. Would the learned judge approve such use of his doctrine ? When the author speaks of impressing, page 158, he diminishes the horror of the practice as much as possi- ble, by presenting to the mind one sailor only suffering a 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 I suppose is often the case, the sailor who is pressed and obliged to serve for the defence of this trade at the rate of 25s. a month, could have =£3. 15s, in the mer- chant's service, you take from him 50s. a month ; and if you have 100,000 in your service, you rob that honest part of society and their poor families of £250,000. per month, or three millions a year, and at the same time oblige them to hazard their lives in fighting for the defence of your trade; to the defence of which all ought indeed to contribute, (and sailors among the rest,) in proportion to their profits by it ; but this three mil- POLITICAL ECONOMY. 337 lions is more than their share, if they did not pay with their persons ; and, when you force that, methinks you should excuse the other. But it may be said, to give the king's seamen mer- chant'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 to fight for them and their properties, for such wages as they think fit to allow, and punish them if they refuse ? Our author tells us it is legal. I have not law enough to dispute his authori- ty, but I cannot persuade myself it is equitable. I will however own for the present, that pressing may be law- ful when necessary ; but then I contend that it may be used so as to produce the same good effect, the public security, without doing so much horrible injustice as at- tends the impressing common seamen. In order to be better understood, I would premise two things. First, that voluntary seamen might be had for the service, if they were sufficiently paid. The proof of this is, that to serve in the same ships, and incur the same dangers, you have no occasion to impress captains, lieutenants, second lieutenants, midshipmen, pursers, nor any other officers. Why, but that the profit of their places, or the emoluments expected, are sufficient inducements? The business then is by impressing to find money suffi- cient 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, 25s. a month, with his share of the 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 encouragement to seamen should be paid. To fill this treasury I would impress a number of civil VOL. ii. 43 cc 338 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. officers who at present have great salaries, oblige them to serve in their respective offices for 25s. per month, with their share of the mess provisions, and throw the rest of their salaries into the seaman's treasury. If such a press-warrant was given me to execute, the first per- son 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 such impressing ought to be borne with ; for he would certainly find, that, though to be reduced to 25s. per 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 <£50. a year up to £50,000., which would throw an immense sum into our treasury ; and these gentlemen could not well complain, since they would receive their 25s. a month and their rations, and that too without being obliged to fight. Lastly, I think I would impress the King, and confiscate his salary ; but, from an ancient prejudice I have in favor of that title, I would allow him the gentleman merchant's pay. I could not go farther in his favor ; for, to say the truth, I am not quite satisfied of the necessity or utility of that office in Great Britain, as I see many flourishing states in the world governed well and happy without it. Page 177. " For I freely declare, that ancient precedents alone, unless supported by modern practice, weigh very little with me in questions of this nature." The modern practice, supported by ancient prece- dents, weigh as little with me. Both the one and the other only show that the constitution is yet imperfect, since in so general a case it doth not secure liberty, but destroys it ; and the parliaments are unjust, conniving POLITICAL ECONOMY. 339 at oppression of the poor, where the rich are to be gamers or savers by such oppression. Page 179. " I make no apology for the length of my argument, because I hope the importance of the question will be thought a sufficient excuse for me in this respect." The author could not well have made his argument shorter. It required a long discourse to throw dust in the eyes of common sense, confound all our ideas of right and wrong, make black seem white, and the worse appear the better ouinion. 340 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. REMARKS AND FACTS RELATIVE TO THE AMERICAN PAPER MONEY. Mr. Vaughan says, in his edition of the author's writings ; " The best account I can give of the occasion of the Report, to which this paper is a reply, is as follows. During the war there had been a considerable and unusual trade to America, in consequence of the great fleets and armies on foot there, and the clandestine dealings with the enemy, who were cut off from their own supplies. This made great debts. The briskness of the trade ceasing with the war, the merchants were anxious for payment ; which occasioned some confusion in the colonies, and stirred up a clamor here against paper money. The Board of Trade, of which Lord Hillsborough was the chief, joined in this opposition to paper money, as appears by the Report. Dr. Franklin, being asked to draw up an answer to their Report, wrote the following paper." In addition to the facts here communicated on the general subject of American paper money, the author explains the causes of the various denominations of the currency in the different colonies ; that is, why the number of shillings and pence assigned to a dollar was larger or smaller in one colony than in others. This topic is curious, if not important, even at the present day ; since the prac- tice of forty years, founded on a coin of the decimal notation, uni- versally adopted in the transactions of the government, has done little to effect a change in the habits of the people, who, in many parts of the country, still adhere to the old mode of reckoning by shillings and pence. — EDITOR. This paper is a very able vindication of the provincial paper- money system. The mere authority of Franklin's opinion at this period of his life, as he was now fifty-eight years old, with all his sagacity, practical good sense, activity of observation, and great ex- perience, is of itself of great weight. His arguments are, besides, of great cogency. It is to be observed that he vindicates the system POLITICAL ECONOMY. 341 on the ground of its absolute necessity, as the means of a supply of a circulating medium. The existence of such necessity is then the main question. The suppression of the paper currency in Massa- chusetts, in 1747, in pursuance of Hutchinson's proposal, and its suppression in the other New England provinces, afford very strong grounds of argument against the existence of any such necessity, notwithstanding the difference in the circumstances of the middle provinces, from those of the New England provinces, pointed out by Franklin in this paper ; since, after all, the cause imagined for this necessity, namely, the excessive importations, the constantly out- standing balance due to the British merchants, and the consequent remittances of specie, existed no less in New England than in the middle provinces. It may be gravely doubted whether the operation of these causes was so different in the different provinces as Frank- lin supposes. The paper-money system was vindicated upon two distinct grounds; the one, the necessity of a currency, and the impossibility of keeping a sufficient supply of gold and silver in the country, and so, as Dr. Franklin said before the committee of the House of Commons, if you cannot have what you would prefer, the expediency of taking the next best thing ; the other, the absolute advantages of this currency, even over the precious metals. One of these advantages . was the revenue derived to the government from it. Thus Pownall, after describing the situation of the colonies, says, " In a country, under such circumstances, money lent to settlers upon interest creates money. Paper money thus lent upon interest will create gold and silver in principal, while the interest becomes a reserve that pays the charges of government. This currency is the true Pactolian stream, which converts all into gold that is washed by it. It is upon this principle, that the wisdom and virtue of the Assembly of Penn- sylvania established, under the sanction of government, an office for the emission of paper money by loan." — POWNALL'S Administration of the Colonies, 4th ed. p. 186. — W. PHILLIPS. IN the Report of the Board of Trade, dated February 9th, 1764, the following reasons are given for restraining the emission of paper bills of credit in America, as a legal tender. 1. "That it carries the gold and silver out of the cc* 342 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. province, and so ruins the country ; as experience has showily in every colony where it has been practised in any great degree. 2. "That the merchants trading to America have suffered and lost by it. 3. " That the restriction has had a beneficial effect in New England. 4. " That every medium of trade should have an in- trinsic value, which paper money has not. Gold and silver are therefore the fittest for this medium, as they are an equivalent, which paper never can be. 5. " That debtors, in the Assemblies, make paper money with fraudulent views. 6. " That in the middle colonies, where the credit of the paper money has been best supported, the bills have never kept to their nominal value in circulation, but have constantly depreciated to a certain degree, whenever the quantity has been increased." To consider these reasons in their order ; the first is, First. " That paper money carries the gold and silver out of the province, and so ruins the country ; as expe- rience has shown, in every colony where it has been practised in any great degree." This opinion of its ruining the country seems to be merely speculative, or not otherwise founded than upon misinformation in the matter of fact. The truth is, that, the balance of their trade with Britain being greatly against them, the gold and silver is drawn out to pay that balance ; and then the necessity of some medium of trade has induced the making of paper money, which could not be carried away. Thus, if carrying out all the gold and silver ruins a country, every colony was ruined before it made paper money. But, far from being ruined by it, the colonies that have made use of paper money have been, and are, all in a thriving condition. The debt POLITICAL ECONOMY. 343 indeed to Britain has increased, because their numbers, and of course their trade, have increased ; for, all trade having always a proportion of debt outstanding, which is paid in its turn, while fresh debt is contracted, the proportion of debt naturally increases as the trade increases ; but the improvement and increase of estates in the colonies has been in a greater proportion than their debt. New England, particularly, in 1696 (about the time they began the use of paper money), had, in all its four provinces, but one hundred and thirty churches or con- gregations ; in 1 760 they were five hundred and thirty. The number of farms and buildings there is increased in proportion to the numbers of people ; and the goods exported to them from England in 1750, before the restraint took place, were near five times as much as before they had paper money. Pennsylvania, before it made any paper money, was totally stript of its gold and silver ; though they had, from time to time, like the neighbouring colonies, agreed to take gold and silver coins at higher and higher nominal values, in hopes of drawing money into, and retaining it for the internal uses of, the province. During that weak practice, silver got up by degrees to 8s. 9d. per ounce, and English crowns were called six, seven, and eight shilling pieces, long before paper money was made. But this practice of increasing the denomination was found not to answer the end. The balance of trade carried out the gold and silver as fast as it was brought in, the merchants raising the price of their goods in proportion to the in- creased denomination of the money. The difficulties for want of cash were accordingly very great, the chief part of the trade being carried on by the extremely inconvenient method of barter; when, in 1723, paper money was first made there, which gave new life to 344 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. business, promoted greatly the settlement of new lands, (by lending small sums to beginners on easy interest, to be repaid by instalments,) whereby the province has so greatly increased in inhabitants, that the export from hence thither is now more than tenfold what it then was ; and, by their trade with foreign colonies, they have been able to obtain great quantities of gold and silver, to remit hither in return for the manufactures of this country. New York and New Jersey have also increased greatly during the same period, with the use of paper money ; so that it does not appear to be of the ruinous nature ascribed to it. And, if the inhabitants of those countries are glad to have the use of paper among themselves, that they may thereby be enabled to spare, for remittances hither, the gold and silver they obtain by their commerce with foreigners, one would expect that no objection against their parting with it could arise here, in the country that receives it. The second reason is, " That the merchants trading to America have suffered and lost by the paper money." This may have been the case in particular instances, at particular times and places ; as in South Carolina about fifty-eight years since, when the colony was thought .in danger of being destroyed by the Indians and Spaniards ; and the British merchants, in fear of losing their whole effects there, called precipitately for remittances ; and the inhabitants, to get something lodged in safe countries, gave any price in paper money for bills of exchange ; whereby the paper, as compared with bills, or with produce, or other effects fit for ex- portation, was suddenly and greatly depreciated. The unsettled state of government for a long time in that province had also its share in depreciating its bills. But since that danger blew over, and the colony has been in the hands of the crown, their currency became POLITICAL ECONOMY. 345 fixed, and has so remained to this day. Also in New England, when much greater quantities were issued than were necessary for a medium of trade, to defray the expedition against Louisburg ; and during the last war in Virginia and North Carolina, when great sums were issued to pay the colony troops, and the war made tobacco a poorer remittance, from the higher price of freight and insurance ; in these cases, the merchants trading to those colonies may sometimes have suffered by the sudden and unforeseen rise of exchange. By slow and gradual rises they seldom suffer; the goods being sold at proportionable prices. But war is a com- mon calamity hi all countries, and the merchants that deal with them cannot expect to avoid a share of the losses it sometimes occasions, by affecting public credit. It is hoped, however, that the profits of their subsequent commerce with those colonies may have made them some reparation. And the merchants trading to the middle colonies (New York, New Jersey, and Pennsyl- vania) have never suffered by any rise of exchange ; it having ever been a constant rule there to consider British debts as payable in Britain, and not to be dis- charged but by as much paper (whatever might be the rate of exchange) as would purchase a bill for the full sterling sum. On the contrary, the merchants have been great gainers by the use of paper money in those colonies; as it enabled them to send much greater quantities of goods, and the purchasers to pay more punctually for them. And the people there make no complaint of any injury done them by paper money, with a legal tender ; they are sensible of its benefits ; and petition to have it so allowed. The third reason is, " That the restriction has had a beneficial effect in New England." Particular circum- stances in the New England colonies made paper VOL. n. 44 346 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. money less necessary and less convenient to them. They have great and valuable fisheries of whale and cod, by which large remittances can be made. They are four distinct governments ; but, having much mutual intercourse of dealings, the money of each used to pass current in all. But the whole of this common currency, not being under one common direction, was not so easily kept within due bounds ; the prudent reserve of one colony in its emissions being rendered useless by excess in another. The Massachusetts therefore were not dissatisfied with the restraint, as it restrained their neighbours as well as themselves ; and perhaps they do not desire to have the act repealed. They have not yet felt much inconvenience from it ; as they were enabled to abolish their paper currency by a large sum in silver from Britain, to reimburse their expenses in taking Louisburg; which, with the gold brought from Portu- gal, by means of their fish, kept them supplied with a currency, till the late war furnished them and all America with bills of exchange, so that little cash was needed for remittance. Their fisheries, too, furnish them with remittances through Spain and Portugal to England ; which enables them the more easily to retain gold and silver in their country. The middle Colonies have not this advantage ; nor have they tobacco, which, in Virginia and Maryland, answers the same purpose. When colonies are so different in their circumstances, a regulation, that is not inconvenient to one or a few, may be very much so to the rest. But the pay is now be- come so indifferent in New England, at least in some of its provinces, through the want of currency, that the trade thither is at present under great discouragement. The fourth reason is, " That every medium of trade should have an intrinsic value, which paper money has not. Gold and silver are therefore the fittest for this POLITICAL ECONOMY. 347 medium, as they are an equivalent, which paper never can be." However fit a particular thing may be for a particular purpose, wherever that thing is not to be had, or not to be had in sufficient quantity, it becomes necessary to use something else, the fittest that can be got in lieu of it. Gold and silver are not the produce of North America, which has no mines ; and that which is brought thither cannot be kept there in sufficient quantity for a currency. Britain, an independent, great state, when its inhabitants grow too fond of the expen- sive luxuries of foreign countries, that draw away its money, can, and frequently does, make laws to dis- courage or prohibit such importations ; and, by that means, can retain its cash. The colonies are dependent governments ; and their people, having naturally great respect for the sovereign country, and being thence immoderately fond of its modes, manufactures, and superfluities, cannot be re- strained from purchasing them by any province law; because such law, if made, would immediately be repealed here, as prejudicial to the trade and interest of Britain. It seems hard, therefore, to draw all their real money from them, and then refuse them the poor privilege of using paper instead of it. Bank bills and bankers' notes are daily used here as a medium of trade, and in large dealings perhaps the greater part is trans- acted by their means ; and yet they have no intrinsic value, but rest on the credit of those that issue them, as paper bills in the colonies do on the credit of the respective governments there. Their being payable in cash, upon sight, by the drawer, is indeed a circum- stance that cannot attend the colony bills, for the rea- sons just above mentioned, their cash being drawn from them by the British trade. But the legal tender, being substituted in its place, is rather a greater advantage to 348 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. the possessor ; since he need not be at the trouble of going to a particular bank or banker to demand the money, finding (wherever he has occasion to lay out money in the province) a person that is obliged to take the bills. So that, even out of the province, the knowl- edge that every man within that province, is obliged to take its money, gives the bills a credit among its neigh- bours, nearly equal to what they have at home. And, were it not for the laws here [in England], that restrain or prohibit as much as possible all losing trades, the cash of this country would soon be exported. Every merchant, who had occasion to remit it, would run to the bank with all its bills that came into his hands, and take out his part of its treasure for that purpose ; so that, in a short time, it would be no more able to pay bills in money upon sight, than it is now hi the power of a colony treasury so to do. And, if government afterwards should have occasion for the credit of the bank, it must of necessity make its bills a legal tender ; funding them however on taxes, by which they may in time be paid off; as has been the general practice in the colonies. At this very time even the silver money in England is obliged to the legal tender for part of its value ; that part which is the difference between its real weight and its denomination. Great part of the shillings and six- pences now current are, by wearing, become five, ten, twenty, and some of the sixpences even fifty per cent too light. For this difference between the real and the nominal, you have no intrinsic value ; you have not so much as paper, you have nothing. It is the legal ten- der, with the knowledge that it can easily be repass- ed for the same value, that makes three-pennyworth of silver pass for sixpence. Gold and silver have un- doubtedly some properties that give them a fitness above paper as a medium of exchange ; particularly POLITICAL ECONOMY. 349 their universal estimation ; especially in cases where a country has occasion to carry its money abroad, either as a stock to trade with, or to purchase allies and foreign succours ; otherwise that very universal estima- tion is an inconvenience which paper money is free from ; since it tends to deprive a country of even the quantity of currency that should be retained as a neces- sary instrument of its internal commerce, and obliges it to be continually on its guard in making and executing, at great expense, the laws that are to prevent the trade which exports it. Paper money well funded has another great advan- tage over gold and silver ; its lightness of carriage, and the little room that is occupied by a great sum ; where- by it is capable of being more easily and more safely, because more privately, conveyed from place to place. Gold and silver are not intrinsically of equal value with iron, a metal, in itself, capable of many more beneficial uses to mankind. Their value rests chiefly in the esti- mation they happen to be in among the generality of nations, and the credit given to the opinion that that estimation will continue. Otherwise a pound of gold would not be a real equivalent for even a bushel of wheat. Any other well-founded credit is as much an equivalent as gold and silver ; and in some cases more so, or it would not be preferred by commercial people in different countries. Not to mention again our own bank bills, Holland, which understands the value of cash as well as any people in the world, would never part with gold and silver for credit (as they do when they put it into their bank, from whence little of it is ever afterwards drawn out), * if they did not think and find the credit a full equivalent. * Perhaps Dr. Franklin had not, at this time, read what Sir James Stewart says of the Amsterdam bank re-issuing its money. — B. V. VOL. II. »I> 350 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. The fifth reason is, " That debtors, in the Assemblies, make paper money with fraudulent views" This is often said by the adversaries of paper money, and, if it has been the case hi any particular colony, that colony should, on proof of the fact, be duly punished. This, however, would be no reason for punishing other col- onies, who have not so abused their legislative pow- ers. To deprive all the colonies of the convenience of paper money, because it has been charged on some of them, that they have made it an instrument of fraud, is as if all the India, bank, and other stocks and trading companies were to be abolished, because there have been, once in an age, Mississippi and South Sea schemes and bubbles. The sixth and last reason is, " That in the middle colonies, where the paper money has been best support- ed, the bills have never kept to their nominal value in circulation ; but have constantly depreciated to a certain degree, whenever the quantity has been increased." If the rising of the value of any particular commodity, wanted for exportation, is to be considered as a depre- ciation of the values of whatever remains in the country ; then the rising of silver above paper to that height of additional value, which its capability of exportation only gave it, may be called a depreciation of the paper. Even here, as bullion has been wanted or not wanted for exportation, its price has varied from 5s. 2d. to 5s. 8d. per ounce. This is near ten per cent. But was it ever said or thought on such an occasion, that all the bank bills, and all the coined silver, and all the gold in the kingdom, were depreciated ten per cent ? Coined silver is now wanted here for change, and one per cent is given for it by some bankers ; are gold and bank notes therefore depreciated one per cent ? The fact in the middle colonies is really this. On the emission of the first paper money, a difference soon arose POLITICAL ECONOMY. 351 between that and silver; the latter having a property the former had not, a property always in demand in the colonies, to wit, its being fit for a remittance. This property having soon found its value by the merchants bidding on one another for it, and a dollar thereby coming to be rated at eight shillings in paper money of New York, and 7s. 6d. in paper of Pennsylvania, it has continued uniformly at those rates in both provinces now near forty years, without any variation upon new emissions ; though in Pennsylvania the paper currency has at times increased from ,£1 5,000 the first sum, to £600,000, or near it. Nor has any alteration been occasioned, by the paper money, in the price of the necessaries of life, when compared with silver. They have been for the greatest part of the time no higher than before it was emitted ; varying only by plenty and scarcity, according to the seasons, or by a less or great- er foreign demand. It has indeed been usual, with the adversaries of a paper currency, to call every rise of exchange with London a depreciation of the paper; but this notion appears to be by no means just ; for, if the paper purchases every thing but bills of exchange at the former rate, and these bills are not above one- tenth of what is employed in purchases, then it may be more properly and truly said, that the exchange has risen, than that the paper has depreciated. And, as a proof of this, it is a certain fact, that, whenever in those colonies bills of exchange have been dearer, the pur- chaser has been constantly obliged to give more in silver, as well as in paper, for them ; the silver having gone hand in hand with the paper, at the rate above mentioned ; and therefore it might as well have been said, that the silver was depreciated. There have been several different schemes for fur- nishing the colonies with paper money, that should not be a legal tender, viz. 352 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 1. To form a bank, in imitation of the Bank of Eng- land, with a sufficient stock of cash to pay the bills on sight. This has been often proposed, but appears impracti- cable, under the present circumstances of the colony trade ; which, as is said above, draws all the cash to Britain, and would soon strip the bank. 2. To raise a fund by some yearly tax, securely lodged in the Bank of England as it arises, which should (during the term of years for which the paper bills are to be current) accumulate to a sum sufficient to discharge them all at their original value. This has been tried in Maryland; and the bills so funded were issued without being made a general legal tender. The event was, that, as notes payable in time are naturally subject to a discount proportioned to the time, so these bills fell at the beginning of the term so low, as that twenty pounds of them became worth no more than twelve pounds in Pennsylvania, the next neighbouring province ; though both had been struck near the same time, at the same nominal value, but the latter was supported by the general legal tender. The Maryland bills, however, began to rise as the term shortened, and towards the end recovered their full value. But, as a depreciating currency injures creditors, this injured debtors ; and, by its continually changing value, appears unfit for the purpose of money, which should be as fixed as possible in its own value ; because it is to be the measure of the value of other things. 3. To make the bills carry an interest sufficient to support their value. This too has been tried in some of the New England colonies ; but great inconvenience was found to attend it. The bills, to fit them for a currency, are made of various denominations ; and some very low, for the sake of change; there are of them from <£10 down to 3d. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 353 When they first come abroad, they pass easily, and answer the purpose well enough for a few months ; but, as soon as the interest becomes worth computing, the calculation of it on every little bill, in a sum between the dealer and his customers in shops, warehouses, and markets, takes up much time, to the great hinderance of business. This evil, however, soon gave place to a worse ; for the bills were in a short time gathered up and hoarded; it being a very tempting advantage to have money bearing interest, and the principal all the while in a man's power, ready for bargains that may offer ; which money out on mortgage is not. By this means numbers of people became usurers with small sums, who could not have found persons to take such sums of them upon interest, giving good security; and would therefore not have thought of it ; but would rather have employed the money hi some business, if it had been money of the common kind. Thus trade, instead of being increased by such bills, is diminished ; and, by their being shut up in chests, the very end of making them (viz. to furnish a medium of commerce) is in a great measure, if not totally, defeated. * * I understand that Dr. Franklin is the friend who assisted Governor Pownall in drawing up a plan for a general paper currency for America, to be established by the British government. See P OWN ALL'S Administra- tion of the. Colonies, 5th edition, pp. 199, 208. — B. V. The paper money first issued by the colonial Assemblies was made a legal tender. The excessive issues in some of the colonies caused a great depreciation in the value of the bills, and thus produced mischievous con- sequences. To remedy the evil, an act of Parliament was passed, pro- hibiting the colonies from issuing any more paper money, which should be a legal tender. At the same time that this act removed one difficulty, it raised up another. In the fluctuating state of things in the colonies, the credit of the bills could not be sustained in any degree, unless the people were required to take them at their actual value. It then became a matter of importance, that Parliament should provide some means for giving stability to a paper currency in the colonies. Governor Pownall, VOL. II. 45 DD* 354 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. On the whole, no method has hitherto been formed to establish a medium of trade, in lieu of money, equal, in all its advantages, to bills of credit, funded on suffi- cient taxes for discharging it, or on land security of double the value for repaying it at the end of the term, and in the mean time made a GENERAL LEGAL TENDER. The experience of now near half a century in the middle colonies, has convinced them of it among themselves, by the great increase of their settlements, numbers, buildings, improvements, agriculture, shipping, and com- merce. And the same experience has satisfied the British merchants, who trade thither, that it has been greatly useful to them, and not in a single instance pre- judicial. It is therefore hoped, that, securing the full discharge of British debts, which are payable here, and in* all jus- tice and reason ought to be fully discharged here, in sterling money, the restraint on the legal tender within the colonies will be taken off; at least for those colo- nies that desire it, and where the merchants trading to them make no objection to it. in conjunction with Dr. Franklin, proposed a plan for this object. Speak- ing of this proposal, Governor Pownall says. " So far am I from assuming any merit in the invention or framing of it, that I desire it may be considered as founded on what hath been actually practised in Penn- sylvania, by the good sense and good policy of the Assembly of that pro- vince, with success and with benefit to the public ; that the particular proposal, as it is now formed, and applied to the present exigencies of America and Great Britain, was drawn up some years ago, in conjunction with a friend of mine, and of the colonies. It was, by us, jointly proposed to government, under successive administrations, in the years 1764, 1765, 1766, during which time the publication was suspended." The principal outlines of this plan were, that bills of credit to a certain amount should be printed in England, for the use of the colonies; that a loan-office should be erected in each colony to issue bills, take securities, and receive the payments ; that the bills should be issued for ten years, bearing interest at five per cent, one tenth part of the sum borrowed to be paid annually, with the interest; and that they should be a legal tender. — EDITOR. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 355 ON THE PRICE OF CORN, AND MANAGEMENT OF THE POOR. The following extracts from a letter, signed COLUMJELLA, and ad- dressed to the editors of The Repository for select Papers on Ag- riculture, Arts, and Manufactures (Vol. I. p. 352), will serve the purpose of preparing those who read it, for entering upon this paper. " GENTLEMEN, " There is now publishing in France a periodical work, called Ephemerides du Ciioyen, in which several points, interesting to those concerned in agriculture, are from time to time discussed by some able hands. In looking over one of the volumes of this work a few days ago, I found a little piece written by one of our countrymen, and which our vigilant neighbours had taken from The London Chronicle in 1766. The author is a gentleman well known to every man of letters in Europe ; and perhaps there is none, in this age, to whom mankind in general are more indebted. That this piece may not be lost to our own country, I beg you will give it a place in your Repository. It was written in favor of the farmers, when they suffered so much abuse in our public papers, and were also plundered by the mob in many places." — B. V. It is to be kept in mind that this paper, and the one which follows it, were written in England. — EDITOR. TO MESSIEURS THE PUBLIC. I am one of that class of people, that feeds you all, and at present is abused by you all ; in short I am a farmer. By your newspapers we are told, that God had sent a very short harvest to some other countries of Europe. I thought this might be in favor of Old England ; and that now we should get a good price for our grain, which would bring millions among us, and make us flow in money ; that to be sure is scarce enough. 356 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. But the wisdom of government forbade the export- ation.* " Well, " says I, " then we must be content with the market price at home." "No;" say my lords the mob, "you sha'nt have that. Bring your corn to market if you dare ; we '11 sell it for you for less money, or take it for nothing. " Being thus attacked by both ends of the constitution, the head and tail of government, what am I to do 1 Must I keep my corn in the barn, to feed and in- crease the breed of rats ? Be it so ; they cannot be less thankful than those I have been used to feed. Are we farmers the only people to be grudged the profits of our honest labor ? And why ? One of the late scribblers against us gives a bill of fare of the pro- visions at my daughter's wedding, and proclaims to all the world, that we had the insolence to eat beef and pudding ! Has he not read the precept in the good Book, Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox that treadeth out the corn ; or does he think us less worthy of good living than our oxen ? " O, but the manufacturers ! the manufacturers ! they are to be favored, and they must have bread at a cheap rate!" Hark ye, Mr. Oaf; the farmers live splendidly, you say. And pray, would you have them hoard the money they get ? Their fine clothes and furniture, do they make them themselves, or for one another, and so keep the money among them ? Or do they employ these your darling manufacturers, and so scatter it again all over the nation ? * It is not necessary to repeat in what degree Dr. Franklin respected the ministers to whom he alludes. The embargo upon corn was but a single measure, which, it is enough to say, a host of politicians thought well advised, but ill defended. Of the great and honorable services of the Earl of Chatham to his country, Dr. Franklin has borne the amplest testimony. — B. V. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 357 The wool would produce me a better price, if it were suffered to go to foreign markets ; but that, Messieurs the Public, your laws will not permit. It must be kept all at home, that our dear manufacturers may have it the cheaper. And then, having yourselves thus lessen- ed our encouragement for raising sheep, you curse us for the scarcity of mutton ! I have heard my grandfather say, that the farmers submitted to the prohibition on the exportation of wool, being made to expect and believe, that, when the manu- facturer bought his wool cheaper, they should also have their cloth cheaper. But the deuce a bit. It has been growing dearer and dearer from that day to this. How so ? Why, truly, the cloth is exported ; and that keeps up the price. Now, if it be a good principle, that the exportation of a commodity is to be restrained, that so our people at home may have it the cheaper, stick to that principle, and go thorough-stitch with it. Prohibit the exportation of your cloth, your leather, and shoes, your iron ware, and your manufactures of all sorts, to make them all cheaper at home. And cheap enough they will be, I will warrant you ; till people leave off making them. Some folks seem to think they ought never to be easy till England becomes another Lubberland, where it is fancied that streets are paved with penny-rolls, the houses tiled with pancakes, and chickens, ready roasted, cry, " Come eat me." I say, when you are sure you have got a good princi- ple, stick to it, and carry it through. I hear it is said, that though it was necessary and right for the ministry to advise a prohibition of the exportation of corn, yet it was contranj to law ; and also, that though it was contrary to law for the mob to obstruct wagons, yet it was ne- cessary and right. Just the same thing to a tittle. Now 358 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. they tell me, an act of indemnity ought to pass in favor of the ministry, to secure them from the consequences of having acted illegally. If so, pass another in favor of the mob. Others say, some of the mob ought to be hanged, by way of example. If so, — but I say no more than I have said before, when you are sure that you have a good principle, go through with it. You say, poor laborers cannot afford to buy bread at a high price, unless they had higher wages. Possi- bly. But how shall we farmers be able to afford our laborers higher wages, if you will not allow us to get, when we might have it, a higher price for our corn 1 By all that I can learn, we should at least have had a guinea a quarter more, if the exportation had been al- lowed. And this money England would have got from foreigners. But, it seems, we farmers must take so much less, that the poor may have it so much cheaper. This operates, then, as a tax for the maintenance of the poor. A very good thing you will say. But I ask, Why a partial tax ? why laid on us farmers only ? If it be a good thing, pray, Messieurs the Public, take your share df it, by indemnifying us a little out of your pub- lic treasury. In doing a good thing, there is both honor and pleasure ; you are welcome to your share of both. For my own part, I am not so well satisfied of the goodness of this thing. I am for doing good to the poor, but I differ in opinion about the means. I think the best way of doing good to the poor, is, not making them easy in poverty, but leading or driving them out of it. In my youth, I travelled much, and I observed hi different countries, that the more public provisions were made for the poor, the less they provided for themselves, and of course became poorer. And, on the contrary, the less was done for them, the more they did POLITICAL ECONOMY. 359 for themselves, and became richer. There is no country in the world where so many provisions are establish- ed for them ; so many hospitals to receive them when they are sick or lame, founded and maintained by vol- untary charities ; so many almshouses for the aged of both sexes, together with a solemn general law made by the rich to subject their estates to a heavy tax for the support of the poor. Under all these obligations, are our poor modest, humble, and thankful 1 And do they use their best endeavours to maintain themselves, and lighten our shoulders of this burthen ? On the contra- ry I affirm, that there is no country in the world which the poor are more idle, dissolute, drunken, and insolent The day you passed that act, you took away from before their eyes the greatest of all inducements to industry, frugality, and sobriety, by giving them a dependence on somewhat else than a careful accumula- tion during youth and health, for support in age or sickness. In short, you offered a premium for the encourage- ment of idleness, and you should not now wonder, that it has had its effect in the increase of poverty. Repeal that law, and you will soon see a change in their man- ners Saint Monday and Saint Tuesday will soon cease to be holidays. Six days shalt thou labor, though one of the old commandments long treated as out date will acrain be looked upon as a respectable precept ; industry will increase, and with it plenty among the lower people; their circumstances will mend, and mor wffl be done for their happiness by inuring them to pro- vide for themselves, than could be done by dividing a your estates among them. Excuse me, Messieurs the Public, if, upon this inter- esting subject, I put you to the trouble of reading i little Df my nonsense. I am sure I have lately read a 360 FRANKLIN'S WR TINGS. great deal of yours, and therefore from you (at least from those of you who are writers) I deserve a little indulgence. I am yours, &.c. ARATOR.* * This is an admirably written paper. The views taken of prohibitions of the exportation of particular articles are just, and at present not ques- tioned by intelligent legislators and political economists. This paper was published nine years before the " Wealth of Nations" and takes the same view of the English poor-laws that is taken in that work. It has prevailed to the present time among the disciples of Adam Smith, by some of whom, particularly Mr. Malthus, it is maintained, that population must be starved down to the limits of the means of subsist- ence, the natural inference from their reasoning being, that, as this fate im- pends over the human race at all places and times, it is in vain to struggle against it by public or private charity. This is a result from which the characteristic philanthropy of Franklin would have revolted. He certain- ly would not have maintained that the resourceless sick, maimed, poor, and those destitute of the discretion requisite to support themselves, should, like aged persons among the Chinese and among some barbarous nations, be abandoned to perish of want. And if he did not maintain this doctrine, the only course left is to make some provision for them, and cer- tainly such provision is more equitably made by an assessment upon the community, according to the means of each member, than in any other way. The result would be a provision by law for enabling and compel- ling the poor to support themselves as far as practicable, and making up the deficiency for a moderate and meagre subsistence by an equitable assessment upon the other members of the community. The evils of mendicity gave rise to the poor-laws ; the ill-judged provisions, but much more the abuses in the administration, of those laws have been a pre- tence for rushing back to the former extreme of mendicity, and the mis- erable spectacle of multitudes perishing of want. But the sentiments of humanity, no less than the morals and manners of well-regulated civil society, forbid this. — W. PHILLIPS. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 361 ON SMUGGLING, AND ITS VARIOUS SPECIES. This letter is extracted from The London Clironide, for Novem- ber 24th, 1767, and is addressed to the printer of that newspaper. — B. V. SIR, There are many people that would be thought, and even think themselves, honest men, who fail neverthe- less in particular points of honesty ; deviating from that character sometimes by the prevalence of mode or cus- tom, and sometimes through mere inattention ; so that their honesty is partial only, and not general or universal. Thus one, who would scorn to oven-each you in a bargain, shall make no scruple of tricking you a little now and then at cards; another, that plays with the utmost fairness, shall with great freedom cheat you in the sale of a horse. But there is no kind of dishon- esty, into which otherwise good people more easily and frequently fall, than that of defrauding government of its revenues by smuggling when they have an opportu- nity, or encouraging smugglers by buying their goods. I fell into these reflections the other day, on hearing two gentlemen of reputation discoursing about a small estate, which one of them was inclined to sell, and the other to buy ; when the seller, in recommending the place, remarked, that its situation was very advanta- geous on this account, that, being on the sea-coast in a smuggling country, one had frequent opportunities of buying many of the expensive articles used in a family (such as tea, coffee, chocolate, brandy, wines, cambrics, Brussels laces, French silks, and all kinds of India goods,) twenty, thirty, and in some articles fifty per cent cheaper than they could be had in the more interi- VOL. II. 46 EE 362 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. or parts, of traders that paid duty. The other honest gentleman allowed this to be an advantage, but insisted, that the seller, in the advanced price he demanded on that account, rated the advantage much above its value. And neither of them seemed to think dealing with smugglers a practice, that an honest man (provided he got his goods cheap) had the least reason to be asham- ed of. At a time when the load of our public debt, and the heavy expense of maintaining our fleets and armies to be ready for our defence on occasion, make it necessa- ry, not only to continue old taxes, but often to look out for new ones, perhaps it may not be unuseful to state this matter in a light, that few seem to have considered it in. The people of Great Britain, under the happy consti- tution of this country, have a privilege few other coun- tries enjoy, that of choosing a third branch of the legis- lature, which branch has alone the power of regulating their taxes. Now, whenever the government finds it necessary for the common benefit, advantage, and safety of the nation, for the security of our liberties, property, religion, and every thing that is dear to us, that certain sums shall be yearly raised by taxes, duties, &c., and paid into the public treasury, thence to be dispensed by government for those purposes ; ought not every honest man freely and willingly to pay his just proportion of this necessary expense 1 Can he possibly preserve a right to that character, if, by fraud, stratagem, or contriv- ance, he avoids that payment in whole or in part. What should we think of a companion, who, having supped with his friends at a tavern, and partaken equally of the joys of the evening with the rest of us, would nevertheless contrive by some artifice to shift his share of the reckoning upon others, in order to, go off scotfree ? If a man who practised this would, when POLITICAL ECONOMY. 363 detected, be deemed and called a scoundrel, what ought he to be called, who can enjoy all the inestimable bene- fits of public society, and yet by smuggling, or dealing with smugglers, contrive to evade paying his just share of the expense, as settled by his own representatives in Parliament, and wrongfully throw it upon his honester and perhaps much poorer neighbours ? He wrill perhaps be ready to tell me, that he does not wrong his neigh- bours ; he scorns the imputation ; he only cheats the King a little, who is very able to bear it. This, however, is a mistake. The public treasure is the treasure of the nation, to be applied to national purposes. And when a duty is laid for a particular public and necessary pur- pose, if, through smuggling, that duty falls short of rais- ing the sum required, and other duties must therefore be laid to make up the deficiency, all the additional sum laid by the new duties and paid by other people, though it should amount to no more than a half-penny or a farthing per head, is so much actually picked out of the pockets of those other people by the smugglers and their abettors and encouragers. Are they then any better or other than pickpockets ? And what mean, lowr, rascally pickpockets must those be, that can pick pockets for half-pence and for farthings ? I would not, however, be supposed to allow, in what I have just said, that cheating the King is a less offence against honesty, than cheating the public. The King and the public, in this case, are different names for the same thing ; but, if we consider the King distinctly, it will not lessen the crime ; it is no justification of a rob- bery, that the person robbed was rich and able to bear it. The King has as much right to justice as the meanest of his subjects ; and, as he is truly the common father of his people, those that rob him fall under the 364 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Scripture woe, pronounced against the son that robbeth his father, and saith it is no sin. Mean as this practice is, do we not daily see people of character and fortune engaged in it for trifling advan- tages to themselves ? Is any lady ashamed to request of a gentleman of her acquaintance, that when he re- turns from abroad, he would smuggle her home a piece of silk or lace from France or Flanders ? Is any gen- tleman ashamed to undertake and execute the com- mission ? Not in the least. They will talk of it freely, even before others whose pockets they are thus contriv- ing to pick by this piece of knavery. Among other branches of the revenue, that of the post- office is, by the late law, appropriated to the discharge of our public debt, to defray the expenses of the state. None but members of Parliament, and a few public officers, have now a right to avoid, by a frank, the pay- ment of postage. When any letter, not written by them or on their business, is franked by any of them, it is a hurt to the revenue, an injury which they must now take the pains to conceal by writing the whole super- scription themselves. And yet such is our insensibility to justice in this particular, that nothing is more common than to see, even in reputable company, a very honest gentleman or lady declare his or her intention to cheat the nation of three pence by a frank, and without blush- ing apply to one of the very legislators themselves, with a modest request, that he would be pleased to become an accomplice in the crime, and assist in the perpetration. There are those who by these practices take a great deal in a year out of the public purse, and put the mon- ey into their own private pockets. If, passing through a room where public treasure is deposited, a man takes the opportunity of clandestinely pocketing and carrying off a guinea, is he not truly and properly a thief ? And POLITICAL ECONOMY. 365 if another evades paying into the treasury a guinea he ought to pay in, and applies it to his own use, when he knows it belongs to the public as much as that which has been paid in, what difference is there in the nature of the crime, or the baseness of committing it ? Some laws make the receiving of stolen goods equal- ly penal with stealing, and upon this principle, that if there were no receivers, there would be few thieves. Our proverb too says truly, that the receiver is as bad as the thief. By the same reasoning, as there would be few smugglers, if there were none who knowingly en- couraged them by buying their goods, we may say, that the encouragers of smuggling are as bad as the smug- glers ; and that, as smugglers are a kind of thieves, both equally deserve the punishment of thievery. In this view of wronging the revenue, what must we think of those who can evade paying for their wheels * and their plate, in defiance of law and justice, and yet declaim against corruption and peculation, as if their own hands and hearts were pure and unsullied ? The Americans offend us grievously, when, contrary to our laws, they smuggle goods into their own country ; and yet they had no hand in making those laws. I do not however pretend from thence to justify them. But I think the offence much greater in those, who either di- rectly or indirectly have been concerned in making the very laws they break. And when I hear them exclaim- ing against the Americans, and for every little infringe- ment on the acts of trade, or obstruction given by a petty mob to an officer of our customs in that country, calling for vengeance against the whole people as REBELS and TRAITORS, I cannot help thinking there are still those in the world who car see a mote in their brother's eye, * Alluding to the British taxes on carriage-wheels and on plate. — DOANE. EE* 366 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. while they do not discern a beam in their oivn ; and that the old saying is as true now as ever it was, One man may better steal a horse, than another look over the hedge. B. F. NOTE RESPECTING TRADE AND MANUFACTURES. London, July 7, 1767. SUPPOSE a country, X, with three manufactures, as doth, silk, iron, supplying three other countries, A, B, C, but is desirous of increasing the vent, and raising the price of cloth in favor of her own clothiers. In order to this, she forbids the importation of foreign cloth from A. A, in return, forbids silks from X. Then the silk-workers complain of a decay of trade. And X, to content them, forbids silks from B. B, in return, forbids iron ware from X. Then the iron-workers complain of decay. And X forbids the importation of iron from C. C, in return, forbids cloth from X. What is got by all these prohibitions ? Answer. — All four find their common stock of the enjoyments and conveniences of life diminished. > B. F. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 367 ON THE LABORING POOR. Communicated to the Editor of a Newspaper, April, 1768. SIR, I have met with much invective in the papers, tor these two years past, against the hard-heartedness of the rich, and much complaint of the great oppressions suffered in this country by the laboring poor. Will you admit a word or two on the other side of the question 1 I do not propose to be an advocate for oppression or oppressors. But when I see that the poor are, by such writings, exasperated against the rich, and excited to insurrections, by which much mischief is done, and some forfeit their lives, I could wish the true state of things were better understood, the poor not made by these busy writers more uneasy and unhappy than their situation subjects them to be, and the nation not brought into disrepute among foreigners, by public groundless accusations of ourselves, as if the rich in England had no compassion for the poor, and English- men wanted common humanity. In justice, then, to this country, give me leave to remark, that the condition of the poor here is, by far, the best in Europe; for that, except in England and her American colonies, there is not in any country of the known world, not even in Scotland or Ireland, a pro- vision by law to enforce a support of the poor, where else necessity reduces to beggary. This law was not made by the poor. The legislators were men of fortune. By that act they voluntarily subjected their own estates, and the estates of all others, to the pay- ment of a tax for the maintenance of the poor, encum- bering those estates with a kind of rent-charge for that 368 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. purpose, whereby the poor are vested with an inherit- ance, as it were, in all the estates of the rich. I wish they were benefited by this generous provision in any degree equal to the good intention, with which it was made, and is continued. But I fear the giving mankind a dependence on any thing for support, in age or sick- ness, besides industry and frugality during youth and health, tends to flatter our natural indolence, to encourage idleness and prodigality, and thereby to promote and increase poverty, the very evil it was intended to cure ; thus multiplying beggars instead of diminishing them. Besides this tax, which the rich in England have subjected themselves to, in behalf of the poor, amount- ing in some places to five or six shillings in the pound, of the annual income, they have, by donations and sub- scriptions, erected numerous schools in various parts of the kingdom, for educating, gratis, the children of the poor in reading and writing; and in many of those schools the children are also fed and clothed. They have erected hospitals at an immense expense for the reception and cure of the sick, the lame, the wounded, and the insane poor, for lying-in women, and deserted children. They are also continually contributing to- wards making up losses occasioned by fire, by storms, or by floods, and to relieve the poor in severe seasons of frost, in times of scarcity, &,c., in which benevolent and charitable contributions no nation exceeds us. Surely, there is some gratitude due for so many in- stances of goodness. Add to this all the laws made to discourage foreign manufactures, by laying heavy duties on them, or totally prohibiting them, whereby the rich are obliged to pay much higher prices for what they wear and consume, than if the trade was open. These are so many laws for the support of our laboring poor, made by the rich, and POLITICAL ECONOMY. 369 continued at their expense ; all the difference of price, between our own and foreign commodities, being so much given by our rich to our poor ; who would indeed be enabled by it to get by degrees above poverty, if they did not, as too generally they do, consider every increase of wages, only as something that enables them to drink more and work less ; so that their distress in sickness, age, or times of scarcity, continues to be the same as if such laws had never been made in their favor. Much malignant censure have some writers bestowed upon the rich for their luxury and expensive living, while the poor are starving, &,c. ; not considering that what the rich expend, the laboring poor receive in payment for their labor. It may seem a paradox if I should assert, that our laboring poor do in every year receive the whole revenue of the nation; I mean not only the public revenue, but also the revenue or clear income of all private estates, or a sum equivalent to the whole. In support of this position I reason thus. The rich do not work for one another. Their habitations, furniture, clothing, carriages, food, ornaments, and every thing in short, that they or their families use and consume, is the work or produce of the laboring poor, who are, and must be continually, paid for their labor in producing the same. In these payments the revenues of private estates are expended, for most people live up to their incomes. In clothing or provision for troops, in arms, ammunition, ships, tents, carriages, &,c. &c., (every par- ticular the produce of labor,) much of the public revenue is expended. The pay of officers, civil and military, and of the private soldiers and sailors, requires the rest ; and they spend that also in paying for what is produced by the laboring poor. I allow that some estates may increase by the owners VOL. ii. 47 370 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. spending less than their income ; but then I conceive that other estates do at the same time diminish by the owners spending more than their income, so that when the enriched want to buy more land, they easily find lands in the hands of the impoverished, whose necessities oblige them to sell ; and thus this difference is equalled. I allow also, that part of the expense of the rich is in foreign produce or manufactures, for producing which the laboring poor of other nations must be paid ; but then I say, we must first pay our own laboring poor for an equal quantity of our manufactures or produce, to exchange for those foreign productions, or we must pay for them in money, which money, not being the natural produce of our country, must first be purchased from abroad, by sending out its value in the produce or manufactures of this country, for which manufactures our laboring poor are to be paid. And indeed, if we did not export more than we import, we could have no money at all. I allow farther, that there are middle men, who make a profit, and even get estates, by pur- chasing the labor of the poor, and selling it at advanced prices to the rich; but then they cannot enjoy that profit, or the incomes of estates, but by spending them in employing and paying our laboring poor, in some shape or other, for the products of industry. Even beggars, pensioners, hospitals, and all that are supported by charity, spend their incomes hi the same manner. So that finally, as I said at first, our laboring poor re- ceive annually the whole of the clear revenues of the nation, and from us they can have no more. If it be said that their wages are too low, and that they ought to be better paid for their labor, I heartily wish that any means could be fallen upon to do it, con- sistent with their interest and happiness ; but, as the cheapness of other things is owing to the plenty of POLITICAL ECONOMY. 371 those things, so the cheapness of labor is in most cases owing to the multitude of laborers, and to their under- working one another in order to obtain employment. How is this to be remedied ? A law might be made to raise their wages ; but, if our manufactures are too dear, they will not vend abroad, and all that part of employ- ment will fail, unless by fighting and conquering we compel other nations to buy our goods, whether they \ will or no, which some have been mad enough at times \ to propose. Among ourselves, unless we give our working people less employment, how can we, for what they do, pay them higher than we do? Out of what fund is the additional price of labor to be paid, when all our present incomes are, as it were, mortgaged to them ? Should they get higher wages, would that make them less poor, if, in consequence, they worked fewer days of the week proportionably ? I have said, a law might be made to raise their wages ; but I doubt much whether it could be executed to any purpose, unless another law, now indeed almost obsolete, could at the same time be re- vived and enforced ; a law, I mean, that many have often heard and repeated, but few have ever duly considered. Six <%s shalt thou labor. This is as positive a part of the commandment, as that which says, The SEVENTH day thou shalt rest. But we remember well to observe the indulgent part, and never think of the other. Saint Monday is generally as duly kept by our working peo- ple as Sunday ; the only difference is, that, instead of employing their time cheaply at church, they are wast- ing it expensively at the alehouse. I am, Sir, yours, &c. MEDIUS. 372 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. SOME GOOD WHIG PRINCIPLES. A printed paper, of which the following is a copy, was found among Dr. Franklin's papers, endorsed by him as above. — W T. F. DECLARATION of those RIGHTS of the Commonalty of Great Britain, without which they cannot be FREE. It is declared, First, That the government of this realm, and the making of laws for the same, ought to be lodged in the hands of King, Lords of Parliament, and Representatives of the whole body of the freemen of this realm. Secondly, That every man of the commonalty (ex- cepting infants, insane persons, and criminals) is, of common right, and by the laws of God, a freeman, and entitled to the free enjoyment of liberty. Thirdly, That liberty, or freedom, consists in having an actual share in the appointment of those who frame the laws, and who are to be the guardians of every man's life, property, and peace ; for the all of one man is as dear to him as the all of another; and the poor man has an equal right, but more need, to have repre- sentatives in the legislature than the rich one. Fourthly, That they who have no voice nor vote in the electing of representatives, do not enjoy liberty; but are absolutely enslaved to those who have votes, and to their representatives ; for to be enslaved is to have governors whom other men have set over us, and be subject to laws made by the representatives of others, without having had representatives of our own to give consent in our behalf.. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 373 Fifthly, That a very great majority of the commonal- ty of this realm are denied the privilege of voting for representatives in Parliament ; and, consequently, they are enslaved to a small number, who do now enjoy the privilege exclusively to themselves ; but who, it may be presumed, are far from wishing to Continue in the ex- clusive possession of a privilege, by which their fellow- subjects are deprived of common right, of justice, of liberty; and which, if not communicated to all, must speedily cause the certain overthrow of our happy con- stitution, and enslave us all. And, sixthly and lastly, We also say and do assert, that it is the right of the commonalty of this realm to elect a new House of Commons once in every year, according to the ancient and sacred laws of the land ; because, whenever a Parliament continues in being for a longer term, very great numbers of the commonalty, who have arrived at years of manhood since the last elec- tion, and therefore have a right to be actually represented in the House of Commons, are then unjustly deprived of that right. POSITIONS TO BE EXAMINED, CONCERNING NATIONAL WEALTH. DATED APRIL 4, 1769. 1. ALL food or subsistence for mankind arises from the earth or waters. 2. Necessaries of life, that are not food, and all other conveniences, have their values estimated by the proportion of food consumed while we are employed in procuring them. VOL. II. FF 374 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 3. A small people, with a large territory, may sub- sist on ;he productions of nature, with no other labor than that of gathering the vegetables and catching the animals. 4. A large people, with a small territory, finds these insufficient, and, ft> subsist, must labor the earth, to make it produce greater quantities of vegetable food, suitable for the nourishment of men, and of the animals they intend to eat. 5. From this labor arises a great increase of vegeta- ble and animal food, and of materials for clothing, as flax, wool, silk, &c. The superfluity of these is wealth. With this wealth we pay for the labor employed in building our houses, cities, &c., which are therefore only subsistence thus metamorphosed. 6. Manufactures are only another shape into which : so much provisions and subsistence are turned, as were ! equal in value to the manufactures produced. This ap- pears from hence, that the manufacturer does not, in fact, obtain from the employer, for his labor, more than a mere subsistence, including raiment, fuel, and shelter ; all which derive their value from the provisions con- sumed in procuring them. 7. The produce of the earth, thus converted into manufactures, may be more easily carried to distant markets than before such conversion. 8. Fair commerce is, where equal values are ex- changed for equal, the expense of transport included. Thus, if it costs A in England as much labor and charge to raise a bushel of wheat, as it costs B in France to produce four gallons of wine, then are four gallons of wine the fair exchange for a bushel of wheat, A and B meeting at half distance with their commodi- ties to make the exchange. The advantage of this fair commerce is, that each party increases the number of POLITICAL ECONOMY 375 his enjoyments, having, instead of wheat alone, or wine alone, the use of both wheat and wine. 9. Where the labor and expense of producing both commodities are known to both parties, bargains will generally be fair and equal. Where they are known to one party only, bargains will often ^be unequal, knowl- edge taking its advantage of ignorance. 10. Thus, he that carries one thousand bushels of wheat abroad to sell, may not probably obtain so great a profit thereon, as if he had first turned the wheat into manufactures, by subsisting therewith the workmen while producing those manufactures; since there are many expediting and facilitating methods of working, not generally known ; and strangers to the manufactures, though they know pretty well the expense of raising wheat, are unacquainted with those short methods of working, and, thence being apt to suppose more labor employed in the manufactures than there really is, are more easily imposed on in their value, and induced to allow more for them than they are honestly worth.* 11. Thus the advantage of having manufactures in a country does not consist, as is commonly supposed, in their highly advancing the value of rough materials, * The reasons for paying a price are not founded merely upon a com- putation of the expense of production. A general knowledge of the expense of producing a bushel of corn does not prevent the producer from demanding and the consumer from paying a higher price, when the article is scarce ; nor the consumer from offering and the producer from accept- ing a lower price, when it is plenty. A proposition bearing a near affinity to that stated in the text seems to be true, namely, that those things which are of general production and habitual consumption, like the com- mon agricultural products, are more likely to bear a market price near to the cost of production, than things of less common production and less regular use, as the article of lace, mentioned in the next section. It may also be generally the case, that the greater the distance of the place of consumption from that of production, the longer an article is likely to be sold at a great profit, since the operation of competition, in bringing down the price, is likely to be slower. — W. PHILLIPS. 376 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. of which they are formed; since, though six penny- worth of flax may be worth twenty shillings when worked into lace, yet the very cause of its being worth twenty shillings is, that, besides the flax, it has cost nineteen shillings and sixpence in subsistence to the manufacturer. But the advantage of manufactures is, / that under their shape provisions may be more easily I carried to a foreign market ; and, by their means, our traders may more easily cheat strangers.* Few, where it is not made, are judges of the value of lace. The importer may demand forty, and perhaps get thirty, shillings for that which cost him but twenty. 12. Finally, there seem to be but three ways for a nation to acquire wealth. The first is by war, as the Romans did, in plundering their conquered neighbours. This is robbery. The second by commerce, which is generally cheating. The third by agriculture, the only honest way, wherein man receives a real increase of the seed thrown into the ground, in a kind of contin- ual miracle, wrought by the hand of God in his fa- vor, as a reward for his innocent life and his virtuous industry. * Franklin does not, probably, intend to be literally understood as recommending a system of defrauding foreigners ; the benefit he proposes from manufactures does not, by any means, amount to this. Nobody con- siders it cheating to obtain from a domestic purchaser more for a thing than it costs the vender to make it. The most scrupulous mercantile morality does not proscribe profits. The author has elsewhere stated, that gain is the great motive of commerce. lie can only mean what he has elsewhere stated, that the nation exporting manufactures has the means of carrying on a more profitable foreign trade, which it may do as long as there are few competitors in effecting sales. But the other reason mentioned immediately before, in favor of exporting manufactures, namely, that it gives an opportunity of exporting the products of more labor, is of much greater importance than the chance of making extraordi- nary profits ; a chance which has been very much diminished by the diffusion of the manufacturing arts, since this article was written. — W. PHILLIPS. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 377 PLAN , FOR BENEFITING DISTANT UNPROVIDED COUNTRIES. BY DR. FRANKLIN AND MR. DALRYMPLE." AUGUST 29, 1771. THE country, called in the maps New Zealand, has been discovered, by the Endeavour, to be two islands, to- gether as large as Great Britain ; these islands, named Acpy-nomawee and Tovy-poennammoo, are inhabited by a brave and generous race, who are destitute of corn, fowls, and all quadrupeds, except dogs. These circumstances being mentioned lately in a company of men of liberal sentiments, it was observed, that it seemed incumbent on such a country as this, to communicate to all others the conveniences of life, which we enjoy. Dr. Franklin, whose life has ever been directed to promote the true interest of society, said, " he would with all his heart subscribe to a voyage intended to com- municate in general those benefits which we enjoy, to countries destitute of them in the remote parts of the globe." This proposition being warmly adopted by the rest of the company, Mr. Dalrymple, then present, was induced to offer to undertake the command in such an expedition. On mature reflection, this scheme appears the most honorable to the national character of any which can be conceived, as it is grounded on the noblest principle of benevolence. Good intentions are often frustrated by * These proposals were printed upon a sheet of paper, and distributed. The parts written by Dr. Franklin and Mr. Dalrymple are easily dis- tinguished. — B. V. VOL. II. 48 FF* 378 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. letting them remain undigested ; on this consideration, Mr. Dalrymple was induced to put the outlines on paper, which are now published, that, by an early communica- tion, there may be a better opportunity of collecting all the hints which can conduce to execute effectually the benevolent purpose of the expedition, in case it should meet with general approbation. On this scheme being shown to Dr. Franklin, he communicated his sentiments, by way of introduction, to the following effect ; " Britain is said to have produced originally nothing but sloes. What vast advantages have been communi- cated to her by the fruits, seeds, roots, herbage, animals, and arts of other countries ! We are, by their means, become a wealthy and a mighty nation, abounding in all good things. Does not some duty hence arise from us towards other countries, still remaining in our former state ? "Britain is now the first maritime power in the world. Her ships are innumerable, capable, by their form, size, and strength, of sailing on all seas. Our sea- men are equally bold, skilful, and hardy ; dexterous in exploring the remotest regions, and ready to engage in voyages to unknown countries, though attended with the greatest dangers. The inhabitants of those coun- tries, our fellow men, have canoes only ; not knowing iron, they cannot build ships ; they have little astronomy, and no knowledge of the compass to guide them ; they cannot therefore come to us, or obtain any of our ad- vantages. From these circumstances, does not some duty seem to arise from us to them ? Does not Provi- dence, by these distinguishing favors, seem to call on us, to do something ourselves for the common interest of humanity? "Those who think it their duty to ask bread and POLITICAL ECONOMY. 379 other blessings daily from Heaven, would they not think it equally a duty to communicate of those blessings when they have received them, and show their grati- tude to their great Benefactor by the only means in their power, promoting the happiness of his other children ? " Ceres is said to have made a journey through many countries to teach the use of corn, and the art of raising it. For this single benefit the grateful nations deified her. How much more may Englishmen deserve such honor, by communicating the knowledge and use, not of corn only, but of all the other enjoyments the earth can produce, and which they are now in possession of. Communiter bona profundere, Deum est. " Many voyages have been undertaken with views of profit or of plunder, or to gratify resentment ; to procure some advantage to ourselves, or do some mischief to others. But a voyage is now proposed, to visit a distant people on the other side the globe ; not to cheat them, not to rob .them, not to seize their lands, or enslave their persons ; but merely to do them good, and make them, as far as in our power lies, to live as comfortably as ourselves. " It seems a laudable wish, that all the nations of the earth were connected by a knowledge of each other, and a mutual exchange of benefits ; but a commercial nation particularly should wish for a general civilization of mankind, since trade is always carried on to much greater extent with people who have the arts and con- veniences of life, than it can be with naked savages. We may therefore hope, in this undertaking, to be of some service to our country as well as to those poor people, who, however distant from us, are in truth relat- ed to us, and whose interests do, in some degree, con- cern every one who can say, Homo sum, &c." FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Scheme of a voyage by subscription, to convey the conveniences of life, as fowls, hogs, goats, cattle, corn, iron, &,c., to those remote regions, which are destitute of them, and to bring from thence such productions, as can be cultivated in this kingdom, to the advantage of society, in a ship under the command of Alexander Dalrymple. Catt or bark, from the coal trade, of 350 tons, estimated at about „• ^v' ' v"1 . .£2,000 Extra expenses, stores, boats, &c. :V -P 3,000 To be manned with sixty men at £4 per man per month, . . ,£240 12 <£ 2,880 per annum. 3 Wages and provisions .£8,640 for three years 8,640 13,640 Cargo included, supposed '>i • •"*". 1 < .; , <£ 15,000 The expenses of this expedition are calculated for three years; but the greatest part of the amount of wages will not be wanted till the ship returns, and a great part of the expense of provisions will be saved by what is obtained in the course of the voyage, by barter or otherwise, though it is proper to make provision for contbgencies. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 381 CONCERNING THE PROVISION MADE IN CHINA AGAINST FAMINE.* I HAVE somewhere read, that, in China, an account is yearly taken of the number of people, and the quanti- ties of provision produced. This account is transmit- ted to the emperor, whose ministers can thence foresee a scarcity, likely to happen in any province, and from what province it can best be supplied in good time. To facilitate the collecting of this account, and prevent the necessity of entering houses and spending time in asking and answering questions, each house is furnished with a little board, to be hung without the door during a certain time each year ; on which board are marked certain words, against which the inhabitant is to mark the number and quantity, somewhat in this manner ; Men, Women, Children, Rice or Wheat, Flesh, &,c. All under sixteen are accounted children, and all above men and women. Any other particulars, which the government desires information of, are occasionally marked on the same boards. Thus the officers, ap- pointed to collect the accounts in each district, have only to pass before the Joors, and enter into their book * Taken from Dr. Percival'a Essays, (Vol. III. p. 25,) being an extract from a letter written to him by Dr. Franklin, on the subject of his Ob- servations on the state of population in Manchester and other adjacent places. — B. V. 382 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. what they find marked on the board, without giving the least trouble to the family. There is .a penalty on marking falsely ; and, as neighbours must know nearly the truth of each other's account, they dare not expose themselves, by a false one, to each other's accusa- tion. Perhaps such a regulation is scarcely practicable with us. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 383 PRINCIPLES OF TRADE Freedom and protection are its best support ; industry the only means to ren- der manufactures cheap. Commerce is generally understood to be the basis, on which the power of this country hath been raised, and on which it must ever stand. Tous les sujets doivent leurs soins, et leurs lumieres. a 1'etat THE account given of this tract by William Temple Franklin is as follows. " It was originally published in 1774, and is the joint work of George Whatley and Dr. Franklin. The original work was indeed written by the former, and communicated to the latter. The corrections and additions, which were made by Dr. Franklin, produced an amicable controversy between them, who had the best claim to call himself the author of it, which closed by a determina- tion to publish it without any name, but under this designation, By a Well-wisher to the King and Country." The parts contributed by each might perhaps be separated by a careful inspection, but the whole tract is too valuable to be marred by such an attempt ; and moreover it may be presumed, from the circumstances of the case, that all the principles contained in it were approved by Dr. Frank- lin. In a letter ten years afterwards to Mr. Whatley, written at Passy, he requests of him a copy of his " excellent little work, The Principles of Trade," and adds ; " If your bookseller has any quantity of them left, I should be glad he would send them to America. The ideas of our people there, though rather better than those that prevail in Europe, are not so good as they should be, and that piece might be of service to them." Mr. Vaughan has brought together detached parts of this paper under the title of POLITICAL 384 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. FRAGMENTS, and it is probable that the passages selected by him are those, which were written by Franklin. This essay abounds in sound doctrines of political economy, and is characterized throughout by originality, comprehensiveness, and justness of thinking. — EDITOR. • DEDICATION. To all those, who have the welfare and prosperity of these kingdoms at heart, the following essay, contain- ing, we hope, useful and incontrovertible principles on the subjects treated of, is very heartily and affectionate- ly inscribed. March, 1774. PREFACE. IT is a vain imagination that we exist only for our- selves, or our particular country. The all-wise Creator has ordered that a mutual dependence shall run through all his works ; and though our limited capacities will not admit us fully to comprehend the nature and end of this connected chain of things, yet we may, and indeed ought, to inquire into and consider every thing, which relates to our mutual dependence upon one another, and the springs and principles of our actions. By this investigation we shall find, that our wants, whether real or ideal, our passions, and our habits, are the springs of all our actions, and indeed the movers of the general intercourse and commerce between one man and another, one country and another. Most writers upon trade have made it their business to support and explain some particular branches of traf- fic, or some favorite hypothesis. We shall, in the en- suing essay, use our best endeavours to remove from the friends of trade, and mankind in general, some prevail- ing prejudices ; and to treat, in a concise manner, upon POLITICAL ECONOMY. 385 a few self-evident principles and general maxims ; un- der a persuasion,. that, if such maxims and principles are just, all deductions and discussions whatever may be tried by their standard. Some very respectable friends have indulged us with their ideas and opinions. It is with the greatest pleasure we, in this second edition, most gratefully acknowl- edge the, favor ; and must add, that, should the public hold this performance in any estimation, no small share belongs to those friends. Definition of Trade. 1. Trade, or commerce, is the intercourse, as well between nation and nation, as between one man and another; by which we acquire whatsoever may be thought, or understood to be, of use or delight, whether real or ideal. Gain the End of Trade. 2. The spring or movement of such intercourse is, and ever must be, gain, or the hopes of gam ; as neither the public, nor the individual, would intentionally pursue any unprofitable intercourse or commerce. 3. Gain being the principle of trade, the whole mys- tery of trade must therefore consist in prosecuting methods, whereby gain or advantage may be obtained. In transactions of trade, it is not to be supposed, that, like gaming, what one party gains the other must lose. The gain to each may be equal. If A has more corn than he can consume, but wants cattle, and B has more cattle, but wants corn, an exchange is gain to each ; hereby the common stock of comforts in life is increased. Freedom and Protection the best Support of Trade. 4. Freedom and protection are most indisputable VOL. II. 49 GG 386 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. principles whereon the success of trade must depend, as clearly as an open, good road tends towards a safe and speedy intercourse ; nor is there a greater enemy to trade than constraint.* 5. Governments, which have adopted those plain, simple principles, have been greatly benefited. 6. Were princes, in general, to abolish all sorts of prohibitory laws, trade in general would flourish most in those countries, where the happy situation, the mild- ness of the climate, the activity and industry of the inhabitants, would furnish means for a speedy and use- ful intercourse, reciprocally to supply any real or ideal want. When princes make war by prohibiting commerce, each may hurt himself as much as his enemy. Tra- ders, who by their business are promoting the common good of mankind, as well as farmers and fishermen, who labor for the subsistence of all, should never be interrupted or molested in their business ; but enjoy the protection of all in the time of war, as well as in the time of peace. This policy those we are pleased to call barbarians have, in a great measure, adopted ; for the trading sub- jects of any power, with whom the Emperor of Morocco may be at war, are not liable to capture, when within sight of his land, going or coming, and have otherwise free liberty to trade and reside in his dominions. As a maritime power, we presume it is not thought * This maxim and the following to the tenth section coincide with the doctrines of Adam Smith, promulgated the year following in the " Wealth of Nations." They are now universally received as general doctrines of political economy. It is universally admitted, at the same time, that they are subject to exceptions. The great difficulty is to determine on the prin- ' ciples and grounds, on which exceptions are to he made ; and also to de- termine on what principles, in what manner, and to what extent, protection is to be extended to trade. — W. PHILLIPS. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 387 right, that Great Britain should grant such freedom, ex- cept partially ; as in the case of war with France, when tobacco is allowed to be sent thither under the sanction of passports. 7. We are no more to expect this, than that the whole world should be governed by the same laws. In our opinion, however, no laws, which the art of man can devise, will or can hinder, or entirely stop the current of, a profitable trade ; any more than the severest laws could prevent the satisfying of hunger, when any chance or opportunity offered to gratify it. 8. Nevertheless, so far as it is possible, according to the different modes and constitutions of each state, freedom and protection should be ever had in view by its respective government. 9. For whatever law is enacted, abridging a free- dom or liberty, which the true interest of the state de- mands, or which does not grant protection where it may be wanted, must clearly be detrimental. 10. We are well aware, that in many cases individuals may endeavour at an intercourse or trade, whereby the public, in one particular point, may seem injured ; and yet it may be out of the power of the state to hinder it, without breaking in upon the freedom of trade ; so that the Dutchman, who, when Antwerp was besieged, fur- nished arms, ammunition, and provisions to the Spaniards, and gloried in it, though a chief magistrate of Amster- dam, was not so very wrong in his principles in general, as at first sight might appear. For this Dutchman ran the risk of losing his ammunition, &c., which, if taken, would have been indeed his loss, but a gain to the cap- tors, his countrymen ; and, if sold and delivered to the enemy, brought profit to him, and in consequence to the state of which he was a member. This man, to evince how much he held freedom in trade to be 388 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. essential, used a very strong figure, when, owning his having furnished the enemy of the state with ammuni- tion, &,c., he added, that he would, to prosecute his trade, sail through hell, at the risk of singeing his sails. It is generally a vain imagination, that if we do not furnish an enemy with what he wants, he cannot be supplied elsewhere. Since we are to suffer the mis- chief he may do with it, why should we not receive the profit that arises on supplying it ? Thus might the Dutchman have reasoned when he supplied the enemy with ammunition, &,c. 11. We have, as a first principle, laid down what we apprehend every one must allow, that gain, or the hope of gain, is the mover of all intercourse or trade. Herein, as above hinted, must be comprehended all matters of use, in the first instance ; and then, matters of ambition, delight, opinion ; in one word, luxury. 12. Now things of real use can only be meat, drink, clothing, fuel, and habitation. The several particu- lars relative to these every one's mind can suggest ; to enumerate would almost be endless. 13. As to meat, in a country where corn, fruits, and cattle can be raised and bred, the inhabitants must be wanting in industry to cultivate the lands, or they can- not, in the common course of things, want help from their neighbours for sustenance. The same as to drink ; if for it they will content themselves with the beverage made of their own corn and fruits. And so of clothing ; if they can be satisfied to be clad with the manufactures made from the produce of their own country. As to fuel and habitation, there are very few countries which do not afford these articles. 14. The real want of all or any of these necessaries POLITICAL ECONOMY. 389 must and ever will be an incentive to labor ; either by every individual himself in the community, or by those, to whom an equivalent is given for their labor. 15. When ambition, delight, opinion, otherwise luxu- ry, come to be considered, the field is extremely en- larged ; and it will require a copious deliberation and ascertainment. 16. For luxury may be earned to such a height, as to be thought by some to be prejudicial to the state ; though we, in a general sense, cannot well apprehend it can ; inasmuch as what we call riches must be the cause of luxury, taken in all its branches. 17. Now riches, as we conceive them, consist in whatever either a state or an individual have, more than is necessary to procure the above essentials, which are only of real use, viz. meat and drink, and clothes, fire and shelter. This more or abundance, from whatsoever cause it may proceed, after the bartering for and procuring those essentials, would absolutely, and to all intents, be useless and of no manner of avail, were it not that de- light and opinion came in aid, to cause what we will call ideal wants ; which wants our passions, put into our make by the almighty hand that formed us, cause us to be almost as solicitous to provide for and to supply, as if such wants were real. 18. We therefore must repeat, that from motives to acquire what may be thought of real or ideal use, spring the intercourse or trade between nations, as well as between individuals ; and it seems to be self-evident that the produce of the land, and of industry in general, must supply all our wants, and consequently our trade. 19. Now, though it is hardly to be expected, as above hinted, that princes should allow of a general free trade or intercourse, because they seldom know their GG* 390 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. own true interest ; yet it does not follow that funda- mental maxims should not be attended to in governing an industrious people. Some of these principles we beg leave to expatiate on. Fundamental Maxims for an industrious People. 20. Land, to bring forth its increase, must be cultivated by man and beast. It is therefore the duty and in- terest of the state to rear both man and beast, and in their respective classes to nourish and cherish them. 21. Industry in all shapes, in all instances, and by all means, should be encouraged and protected ; indolence, by every possible method rooted out. All that live must be subsisted. Subsistence costs something. He that is industrious produces by his in- dustry something that is an equivalent, and pays for his subsistence. He is therefore no charge or burden to society. The indolent are an expense, uncompensated. There can be no doubt but all kinds of employment that can be followed without prejudice from interrup- tions ; work that can be taken up and laid down often .n a day, without damage, such as spinning, knitting, weaving, &c., are highly advantageous to a country ; because in them may be collected all the produce of those fragments of time that occur in family business, between the constant and necessary parts of it, that usually occupy females ; as the time between rising and preparing breakfast, between breakfast and preparing for dinner, &,c. The amount of all these fragments is, in the course of a year, very considerable to a single family; to a state proportionably. Highly profitable therefore it is, in this case also, to follow the divine di- rection, " Gather up the fragments that nothing be lost." '• * Adam Smith's views of the importance of household manufactures coincide with those expressed in this section. — W. PHILLIPS. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 391 Lost time is lost subsistence ; it is therefore lost treasure. Hereby, in several families, many yards of linen have been produced from the employment of these fragments only, in one year, though such families were just the same in number as when not so employed. It was an excellent saying of a certain Chinese emperor, " I will, if possible, have no idleness in my do- minions ; for, if there be one man idle, some other man must suffer cold and hunger." We take this emperor's meaning to be, that the labor due to the public by each individual, not being performed by the indolent, must naturally fall to the share of others, who must thereby suffer. 22. Whatever can contribute towards procuring from the land, and by industry, a produce wherewith other nations may be supplied, ought highly to be encouraged. 23. Materials wanting in a country to employ its in- habitants, ought by all means to be procured. Gold and silver, those tokens of riches, used as silch, and otherwise of little use, are not near so estimable. The bartering of them for such materials is manifestly ad- vantageous.* 24. These, as we apprehend, are incontrovertible principles, on which a wise government will found its resolutions. 25. That the use of the produce of other countries for ideal wants ought to be discouraged, particularly when the produce of the land, or of industry, are not given in exchange for them, has been strongly urged by many. On the grand principle of freedom in trade, we cannot well admit it ; for it is plain the luxurious will *This section, and those that follow, particularly the twenty -ninth, show, that the authors of this essay had, before the publication of the " Wealth of Nations," seen the fallacy of the former prejudices that had been in vogue, respecting the expediency of forcing a favorable balance of trade by prohibiting the exportation of specie. — W. PHILLIPS. 392 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. use, and the trader, to prosecute his gain, will procure, such foreign produce ; nor do prohibitory laws or heavy duties hinder. Nevertheless, to allow for a moment the doctrine, we will remark, that only the establishing it as a mode or fashion amongst the opulent and great can possibly effectuate a disuse or discouragement. In fact, the produce of other countries can hardly be obtained, unless by fraud or rapine, without giving the produce of our land or our industry in exchange for them. If we have mines of gold and silver, gold and silver may then be called the produce of our land. If we have not, we can only fairly obtain those metals by giving for them the produce of our land or industry. When we have them, they are then only that produce or industry in another shape ; which we may give, if the trade requires it, and our other produce will not suit, in exchange for the produce of some other country, that furnishes what we have more occasion for, or more 'desire. When we have, to an inconvenient de- gree, parted with our gold and silver, our industry is stimulated afresh to procure more, that by its means we may contrive to procure the same advantage. In this place it will be proper to observe upon an erroneous doctrine, which has been often strenuously insisted on, that the cheapness of provisions must render manufactures cheap; and that plenty of money con- duces to the benefit of trade. We shall endeavour to prove that industry alone does both. Trade benefited by Industry mare than Money. 26. Providence has wisely ordained, that there should be different occupations and pursuits amongst men, and that the rich and poor should be actuated by different wants, whether real or ideal. It is next to impossible that the rich should be without desires, or wishes for POLITICAL ECONOMY. 393 greater acquisitions ; or the poor without being necessi- tated to acquire what must supply their real wants. If the rich curtail their desires, or wishes, their riches serve, in proportion to their not using them, no more than ore in an un worked mine. If the poor man, by one day's labor can supply his real wants for two days, and sits idle the half of his time, he may be considered in such an idle time, as a monk or a cripple with regard to the community. If a thirst for acquisition move the rich m,an, he industriously employs all his riches. If the scarcity of provisions compel the poor man to work his whole time, he assuredly, by his industry, must make more manufactures than only working half of it. Hence we conclude, that gain is the first mover, and industry, and the desire of supplying our wants, the intermediate movers, of all intercourse or trade. We however must observe, that a government truly wise should always, as far as the general good allows, be as solicitous to pro- cure plenty of provisions, whereby both man and beast may be kept in good health and strength, as to encour- age industry. For industry cannot be sufficiently sus- tained without the strength arising from plenty of pro- visions. The common people do not work for pleasure gener- ally, but from necessity.* Cheapness of provisions makes them more idle ; less work is then done ; it is then more in demand proportionally ; and of course the price rises. Dearness of provisions obliges the * These maxims, and many others in this tract, are to be considered as applicable to European society, particularly to England, where industry is not applied to the profit of the individual who labors ; but where one or a few individuals, with large capitals, make a monopoly of the industry of thousands. These thousands, barely subsisted by labor, and, from the scantiness of their reward or wages, never able to reserve a surplus to ac- cumulate for their children or for old age, are ever dependent on their employers ; and where labor is the only occupation, and bare existence the only hope, there idleness is an enjoyment. — W. T. F. VOL. ii. 50 394 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. manufacturer to work more days and more hours ; thus more work is done than equals the usual demand ; of course it becomes cheaper, and the manufactures in consequence. 27. As to plenty of money being a benefit to trade and manufactures, we apprehend every one conversant therein must know that the cob, by which we generally understand money, of every respective state, is by no means the mover of the intercourse or tradings of the world in general. Gold and silver in bullion, or in an uncoined mass, are rather more so ; being, in point of value, a merchandise less liable to variation than any other. It is true that coin may be liable, in the fluctua- tion of trade, to be made a merchandise of ; but as, by constant use, the pieces of coin become lighter than their original weight, they thereby are less fit for mer- chandise. We therefore may say, that coins, in gener- al, can no otherwise be useful, than as the common measure between man and man, as serving to barter against, or exchange for, all kinds of commodities. Certain it is, that coins cannot be ranked amongst those things which are only of real use. Let us therefore sup- pose pieces of coin to be counters, and, to simplify the matter still more, suppose every manufacturer to have of these counters any sum whatever ; will it follow, that any sort of manufacture shall be industriously attended to, or more work done than when no more counters than just enough to barter for the real wants of meat, drink, and clothes, &c., can be procured by labor 1 Surely no. It must be the desire of supplying our wants, which excites industry as above hinted ; that alone sets that trade going, and only can procure plenty of manufactures. 28. It is, nevertheless, the duty of government to stamp coins or counters of different sorts and denomin- ations, so that time, of all things the most precious, be not POLITICAL ECONOMY. 395 wasted in settling the respective exchangings amongst mankind. Nevertheless the plenty or scarcity of those coins cannot entirely depend on any government, but on the general circulation and fluctuation of trade, which may make them a merchandise without the least detriment; as it must be allowed, that the precious metals gold and silver, of which such cobs are princi- pally composed, are no other than merchandise acquired from countries where there are mines, by those coun- tries which have none, hi exchange for the produce of their land or of their manufactures. Silver Coin and its Scarcity. 29. That the welfare of any state depends on its keeping all its gold and silver, either in bullion or in coin, must be founded on a very narrow principle in- deed. All republics we know of, wisely think other- wise. Spain, the grand source of silver, has of late years, very justly, allowed the free exportation of it, paying a duty, as in Great Britain lead and tin do ; nor, prior to this permission, could their penal laws in Spain hinder its being exported ; for it was a commodity, which that kingdom was under a necessity of giving as an equivalent, for what was furnished to them by other countries. Could Spain and Portugal have succeeded in ex- ecuting their foolish laws of "hedging in the cuckoo,19 as Locke calls it, and have kept at home all their gold and silver, those metals would, by this time, have been of little more value than so much lead or iron. Their plenty would have lessened their value. We see the folly of these edicts ; but are not our own prohibitory and restrictive laws, that are professedly made with intention to bring a balance in our favor from our trade with foreign nations to be paid in money, 396 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. and laws to prevent the necessity of exporting that money, which, if they could be thoroughly executed, would make money as plenty and of as little value ',7. say, are not such laws akin to those Spanish edicts, follies of the same family ? 30. In Great Britain, the silver coin bearing a dispro- portion to gold more than in neighbouring states, of about five in the hundred, must, by that disproportion, become merchandise, as well for exportation, as for the manufac- tures at home hi which silver is employed, more than if it remained in the mass uncoined. This might be remedied without injuring the public, or touching the present standard, which never should be done, only by enacting that sixty-five shillings should be cut out of one pound weight of standard silver, instead of sixty-two, which are the number now ordained by law. We must however remark, that whenever, by any extraordinary demand for silver, a pound weight, bought even for six- ty-five shillings, can be sent abroad to advantage, or melted down for manufactures, no prohibitory laws will hinder its exportation or melting, and still becoming a merchandise. Other Coins and Paper Money. 31. Coiners have pointed out, though at the risk of the gallows, a measure which we think would be advisable in some degree for government to adopt. They coin and circulate shillings of such weight as to gain ten to fourteen in the hundred, and upwards; as out of a pound of standard silver they cut sixty-eight or seventy- one shillings. That these light shillings or counters are useful, though the public be so greatly imposed on, is evident. It must be presumed, that every thing is put in practice by government to detect and stop this manifest roguery. If so, can it on the one hand be POLITICAL ECONOMY. supposed the public purse should bear the burden of this fraud? Yet, on the other hand, having no supply of legal shillings or counters, the utility of the illegal ones forces them, as it were, on the public. The power of the legislature to correct the erroneous pro- portion of five in the hundred, as above mentioned, is indubitable ; but whether every private person pos- sessed of these counters, or the public purse, should be obliged to bear the loss on a re-coinage, seems a difficult point to determine ; as it may be alleged, that every private person has it in his power to accept or refuse any coin under the weight, as by law enacted, for each denomination. If the former, he does it to his own wrong, and must take the consequences. The individual, on the other hand, has to allege the almost total want of lawful counters ; together with the impossibility or neglect of hindering those of an inferior weight from being suffered to be current. It may be submitted, that, as the use of coin is for public utility, any loss which arises in the coin either by wear- ing, or even by filing and sweating, ought to be made good by calling in the coin after a certain number of years from the time of coinage, and receiving the money called in at the charge of the public. We are well aware what latitude such a resolution might give to the coiners of shillings, the filers, and the sweaters of gold ; but, taking proper measures beforehand, this evil might, we think, in a great degree be prevented. 32. In the beginning of his present Majesty's reign, quarter-guineas were wisely ordered to be coined ; whereby the want of silver coin was in some degree supplied, which would still be more so, were thirds and two-thirds of guineas to be coined. We cannot conceive why this is not done, except that these de- nominations are not specified in his Majesty's indenture VOL. II. HH 398 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. with the master of the mint; which in our humble opinion ought to be rectified. 33. We think it not improper here to observe, that it matters not whether silver or gold be called the standard money ; but it seems most rational that the most scarce and precious metal should be the unit or standard. That, as to copper, it is as fit for money or a counter, as gold or silver, provided it be corned of a proper weight and fineness ; and just so much will be useful as will serve to make up small parts in exchange be- tween man and man, and no more ought to be coined. As to paper circulating as money, it is highly profit- able, as its quick passing from one to another is a gain of time, and thereby may be understood to add hands to the community ; inasmuch as those, who would be employed in telling and weighing, will follow other business. The issuers or coiners of paper are un- derstood to have an equivalent to answer what it is issued for or valued at ; nor can any metal or coin do more than find its value. It is impossible for government to circumscribe or fix the extent of paper credit, which must, of course, fluctuate. Government may as well pretend to lay down rules for the operations or the confidence of every individual in the course of his trade. Any seeming temporary evil arising must naturally work its own cure. Exchanges. 34. As some principles relative to exchange have, in our opinion, been treated of in a very confused manner, and some maxims have been held out upon that subject, which tend only to mislead, we shall here briefly lay down what, according to our opinion, are self-evident principles. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 35. Exchange, by bills, between one country or city and another, we conceive to be this. One person wants to get a sum from any country or city ; conse- quently has his bill or draft to sell ; another wants to send a sum thither, and therefore agrees to buy such bill or draft. He has it at an agreed-for price, which is the course of the exchange. It is with this price for bills, as with merchandise ; when there is a scar- city of bills in the market, they are dear ; when plenty, they are cheap. 36. We judge it needless to enter into the several courses and denominations of exchanges, which cus- tom hath established ; they are taught at school. But we think we must offer a few words to destroy an erroneous principle, that has misled some and confused others; which is, that by authority a certain par or fixed price of exchange should be settled between each respective country; thereby rendering the cur- rency of exchange as fixed as the standard of coin. 37. We have above hinted, that plenty and scarcity must govern the course of exchange. Which princi- ple, duly considered, would suffice on the subject ; but we will add, that no human foresight can absolutely judge of the almost numberless fluctuations in trade, which vary, sometimes directly, sometimes indirectly, between countries ; consequently no state or potentate can by authority any more pretend to settle the cur- rency of the prices of the several sorts of merchandise sent to and from their respective dominions, than they can a par of exchange. In point of merchandise, in- deed, where there is a monopoly of particular com- , modities, an exception must be allowed as to such articles; but this is not at all applicable to trade in general, for the encouragement of which we cannot too often repeat, that freedom and security are most essentially necessary. 400 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Par of Exchange. 38. Another specious doctrine, much labored by theorists, in consequence of that relating to the par, is, that the exchange between any particular country being above or below par, always shows whether their reciprocal trade be advantageous or disadvanta- geous. It is, and must be allowed, that hi trade nothing is given without adequate returns or compen- sations ; but these are so various and fluctuating be- tween countries, as often indirectly as directly, that there is no possibility of fixing a point from whence to argue ; so that, should there happen a greater va- riation than of two or three or more in the hundred, at any certain period in the exchange, above or below what is called the par or equality of the money of one country to that of another, influenced by the fluctua- tions and circulations in trade, it does not follow, that a trade is advantageous or disadvantageous, ex- cepting momentarily, if one may so say ; which can be of no consequence to the public in general, as the trade from advantageous may become disadvantageous, and vice versa; and, consequently, the deducing of reasons from what in its nature must be fluctuating, can only help to embarrass, if not mislead. 39. To return to trade in general. Our principles, we apprehend, may hold good for all nations, and ought to be attended to by the legislative power of every nation. We will not discuss every particular point; nor is it to our purpose to exambe the pretended principles or utility, whereon monopolies are generally established. That the wisdom of government should weigh and nicely consider any proposed regulation on those principles, we humbly judge to be self-evident; whereby may be seen whether it coincides with the general good. Solomon adviseth " not to counsel with POLITICAL ECONOMY. 401 a merchant for gain." This, we presume, relates to the merchant's own particular profit, which, we repeat, must ever be the spring of his actions. Government ought, notwithstanding, to endeavour to procure par- ticular informations from every one ; not only from those actually employed, or those who have been con- cerned, in particular branches of trade, but even from persons who may have considered of it theoretically and speculatively. Perhaps, in general, it would be better if government meddled no farther with trade, than to protect it, and let it take its course. Most of the statutes, or acts, edicts, arrets, and placarts of parliaments, princes, and states, for regulating, directing, or restraining of trade, have, we think, been either political blunders, or jobs obtained by artful men for private advantage, under pretence of public good. When Colbert assembled some wise old merchants of France, and desired their advice and opinion, how he could best serve and pro- mote commerce, their answer, after consultation, was, in three words only, Laissez-nous faire ; " Let us alone." It is said by a very solid writer of the same nation, that he is well advanced in the science of politics, who knows the full force of that maxim, Pas trop gou- vcrner ; " Not to govern too much." Which, perhaps, would be of more use when applied to trade, than in any other public concern. It were therefore to be wish- ed, that commerce was as free between all the nations of the world, as it is between the several counties of England ; so would all, by mutual communication, ob- tain more enjoyments. Those counties do not ruin one another by trade ; neither would the nations. No nation was ever ruined by trade, even seemingly the most disadvantageous.* * The doctrine of this section is that, which is now universally VOL. II. 51 HH* FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Wherever desirable superfluities are imported, indus- try is excited, and therefore plenty is produced. Were only necessaries permitted to be purchased, men would work no more than was necessary for that purpose. Bounties. 40. Though we wave a discussion on particular branches of trade, as the field is too large for our pres- ent purpose ; and that particular laws and regulations may require variation, as the different intercourses and even interests of states, by different fluctuations, may alter; yet, as what relates to bounties or premiums, which the legislature of Great Britain has thought fit to grant, hath been by some deemed, if not ill-judged, unnecessary, we hope our time not ill-bestowed to con- sider of the fitness and rectitude of the principle, on which we apprehend these bounties or premiums have been granted. 41. It must, we think, on all hands be allowed, that the principle whereon they are founded must be an encouragement tending to a general benefit, though granted on commodities, manufactures, or fisheries, car- ried on in particular places and countries, which are presumed or found to require aid from the public purse for farther improvement. Of the bounties, some having had the proposed effect are discontinued ; others are continued for the very reason they were first given. In our opinion, no doubt can arise as to the utility of these grants from the public purse to individuals. The grand principle of trade, which is gain, is the foundation of bounties ; for, as every individual makes received by political economists and legislators, subject of course to modi- fications and exceptions in peculiar circumstances ; and it occupies a conspicuous place in the "Wealth of Nations." — W.PHILLIPS. POLITICAL ECONOMY. a part of the whole public, consequently whatever ben- efits the individual must benefit the public. Hereby the wisdom of the legislature is most evident; nor should it in any wise be arraigned, though ill success attended any particular commodity, manufacture, or fishery, for the encouragement of which bounties have been established. We are well aware, that it is not impossible the pur- pose of bounty may have been perverted with a view to improper gain ; but it is the duty of the legislature to use the proper measures for preventing such iniquity. This abuse, however, cannot be adduced as an argu- ment against the benefit arising from allowing bounties. Bounty on Wheat. 42. These principles in regard to bounties or pre- miums are applicable to most articles of commerce, except wheat, and other gram, which we shall consider and enlarge on, as being of a complicated nature, and concerning which mankind have at particular times been divided in opinion. 43 It seems to us, that this bounty on grain wras intended, not only to encourage the cultivating of land for the raising of it in abundance in this kingdom, for the use of its inhabitants, but also to furnish our neigh- bours, whenever the kind hand of Providence should be pleased to grant a superfluity. 44. It never can be presumed, that the encourage- ment by the bounty insures to the community an unin- terrupted, constant plenty ; yet, when the grower of grain knows he may by such bounty have a chance of a foreign market for any excess he may have, more than the usual home consumption, he the more wil- lingly labors and improves his land upon the presump- tion of having a vent for his superfluity, by a demand 404 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. in foreign countries ; so that he will not probably be distressed by abundance, which, strange as it may seem to some, might be the case by his want of sale, and his great charges of gathering in his crop. 45. As there are no public granaries in this king- dom, the legislature could devise no better means than to fix stated prices under which the bounty or encour- agement from the public purse should be allowed. Whenever the current prices exceeded those stipu- lated, then such bounty should cease. 46. Few consider or are affected but by what is present. They see grain, by reason of scanty crops, dear ; therefore all the doors for grain, to the cultiva- tors of it, must always be kept shut. The common outcry is, that the exporting our wheat furnishes bread to our neighbours cheaper than it can be afforded to our poor at home, which affects our manufacturers, as they can thereby work cheaper. To this last allega- tion we must refer to what we have said, section 26 ; though the former, that wheat is by the bounty afford- ed to our neighbours cheaper than to us at home must, in. general, be without foundation, from the several items of charge attending the exportation of grain, such as carriage, factorage, commission, porterage, &c. The freight paid to our own shipping, to which alone the bounty is restrained, must, when duly considered, very sufficiently counterbalance the bounty ; so that more than what is given out of the public purse is put into the pockets of individuals, for the carriage, &c. Therefore, we think, we may well presume, that in general, grain exported comes dearer to the foreigner, than to the consumer in Great Britain. 47. Nothing can be more evident, we apprehend, than that the superfluity of our grain being exported, is a clear profit to the kingdom ; as much as any POLITICAL ECONOMY. 405 other produce of our labor in manufactures, in tin, or any commodities whatsoever. 48. It behoves us, however, indubitably, to have an eye towards having a sufficiency of grain for food in this country, as we have laid down, section 26 ; and, were the legislature to enact, that the justices of the peace, at the Christmas quarter-session, should have power to summon all growers of grain or dealers there- in, and upon oath to examine them as- to the quantity then remaining, returns of which quantities should be made to the lords of the treasury, to be laid before Parliament ; the legislature would, upon such returns, be able to judge, whether it would be necessary to enable his Majesty, with the advice of his council, to put a stop to any farther exportation at such times as might be thought proper. 49. Or it is submitted, whether the legislature would not act more consistent with the principle of granting bounties, by repealing the act allowing the present bounty on the several sorts of grain at the now fixed prices, and reduce these prices as follow ; On wheat, from forty-eight to thirty-six or thirty-two shillings. On barley, from twenty-four to eighteen or sixteen a quarter ; and so in proportion for any other grain. In short, diminish the present standard prices, under which the bounty is granted, one quarter or one third. 50. In our humble opinion, this last method would be by much the most simple and eligible, as consistent with our grand principle of freedom in trade, which would be cramped, if dependent annually on parlia- mentary deliberation. 51. The advocates for not lowering the present stipu- lated prices, that command the bounties from the public purse, may allege, that our ancestors deemed them 406 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. necessary, on the principle of granting any bounty at all, which we have above hinted, section 43. We do not controvert the wisdom of the principle for granting a bounty ; for it must have been, and ever will be, an en- couragement to cultivation ; and consequently it would be highly improper wholly to discontinue it Never- theless, if it has answered one great end proposed, which was cultivation and improvement, and that it is incontrovertible the cultivator has, by the improve- ments made by the encouragement of the bounty, a living profit at the reduced prices of thirty-two or thirty-six shillings, sixteen or eighteen, &,c., as above, which probably, when our ancestors enacted the law for granting the bounty, they understood the cultivators could not have ; it seems clear, that there ought to be the proposed change and reduction of the bounty prices, as above mentioned.* 52. The French, intent on trade, have a few years since rectified a very gross mistake they labored under in regard to their commerce in grain. One county or province in France should abound, and the neighbour- ing one, though almost starving, should not be per- mitted to get grain from the plentiful province, without particular license from court, which cost no small trou- ble and expense. In sea-port towns, wheat should be imported ; and soon after, without leave of the magis- trates, the owner should only have liberty to export one quarter or one third of it. They are now wiser ; and through all the kingdom the corn trade is quite * Our authors were much more favorably inclined to bounties than Adam Smith, and disagreed with him on the subject of the bounty on the exportation of corn, though they were still in favor of restricting it within narrower limits by reducing the rate of the market price at which it might be demanded. The reasoning, however, in the subsequent sec- tion is wholly in favor of Adam Smith's doctrine, that this bounty ia inexpedient — W. PUILLIPS. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 407 free ; and what is more, all sorts of grain may be ex- ported upon French bottoms only, for their encourage- ment, copying, we presume, our law, whenever the market prices for three following days shall not exceed about forty-five shillings sterling a quarter for wheat. Our reason for mentioning this is only to show, that other nations are changing their destructive measures, and that it behoves us to be careful that we pay the greatest attention to our essential interests. In inland high countries, remote from the sea, and whose rivers are small, running from the country, not to it, as is the case of Switzerland, great distress may arise from a course of bad harvests, if public granaries are not provided and kept well stored. Anciently, too, before navigation was so general, ships so plenty, and commercial connexions so well established, even mari- time countries might be occasionally distressed by bad crops. But such is now the facility of communication between those countries, that an unrestrained com- merce can scarce ever fail of procuring a sufficiency for any of them. If, indeed, any government is so imprudent, as to lay its hands on imported corn, forbid its exportation, or compel its sale at limited prices, there the people may suffer some famine from mer- chants avoiding their ports. But wherever commerce is known to be always free, and the . merchant abso- lute master of his commodity, as in Holland, there will always be a reasonable supply. When an exportation of corn takes place, occasioned by a higher price hi some foreign country, it is com- mon to raise a clamor, on the supposition that we shall thereby produce a domestic famine. Then follows a prohibition, founded on the imaginary distress of the poor. The poor, to be sure, if in distress, should be relieved ; but if the farmer could have a high price for 408 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. his corn from the foreign demand, must he, by a pro- hibition of exportation, be compelled to take a lo\v price, not of the poor only, but of every one that eats bread, even the richest? The duty of relieving the poor is incumbent on the rich ; but, by this operation, the whole burden of it is laid on the farmer, who is to relieve the rich at the same time. Of the poor, too, those who are maintained by the parishes have no right to claim this sacrifice of the farmer ; as, while they have their allowance, it makes no difference to them whether bread be cheap or dear. Those working poor, who now mind business five or four days in the week, if bread should .be so dear as to oblige them to work the whole six, required by the commandment, do not seem to be aggrieved so as to have a right to public redress. There will then remain comparatively only a few families in every district, who from sickness or a great number of children, will be so distressed by a high price of corn as to need relief; and these should be taken care of, by particular benefactions, without restraining the farmer's profit. Those who fear, that exportation may so far drain the country of com as to starve ourselves, fear what never did, nor ever can happen. They may as well, wrhen they view the tide ebbing towards the sea, fear that all the water will leave the river. The price of corn, like water, will find its own level. The more we export, the dearer it becomes at home. The more is received abroad, the cheaper it becomes there ; and as soon as these prices are equal, the exportation stops of course. As the seasons vary in different coun- tries, the calamity of a bad harvest is never universal. If, then, all ports wrere always open, and all commerce free, every maritime country would generally eat bread at the medium price, or average of all the different POLITICAL ECONOMY. 409 harvests, which would probably tie more equal than we can make it by our artificial regulations, and therefore a more steady encouragement to agriculture. The nations would all have bread at this middle price; and that nation, which at any time inhumanly refuses to relieve the distresses of another nation, deserves no compassion when in distress itself. We shall here end these reflections, with our most ardent wishes for the prosperity of our country; and our hopes, that the doctrine we have endeavoured to inculcate, as to the necessity of protection and free- dom, in order to insure success in trade, will be ever attended to by the legislature in forming their resolu- tions relating to the commerce of these kingdoms. REFLECTIONS ON COIN IN GENERAL, BEING AN APPENDIX TO THE ABOVE ESSAY. PREFACE. " THE clamor made of the great inconveniences, suf- fered by the community in regard to the coin of this kingdom, prompted me in the beginning of his Majes- ty's reign to give the public some reflections on coin in general, on gold and silver as merchandise, and 1 added my thoughts on paper passing as money. "As I trust the principles then laid down are founded in truth, and will serve now as well as then, though made fourteen years ago, to change any calculation would be of little use. "Some sections in the foregoing essay of Principles * This Preface was written entirely by Mr. Whatley. — W. T. F. VOL. ii. 52 ii 410 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. of Trade, which might in this Appendix appear like a repetition, have been omitted. " I always resolved not to enter into any particular deduction from laws relating to coin, or into any minu- tiae as to accurate nicety in weights. My intention was, and still is, no more than to endeavour to show, as briefly as possible, that what relates to coin is not of such a complex, abstruse nature as it is generally made, and that no more than common justice with common sense is required in all regulations concern- ing it. " Perhaps more weighty concerns may have prevent- ed government doing more in regard to coin, than ordering quarter-guineas to be made, which till this reign had not been done. " But, as I now judge by the late act relating to gold coin, that the legislature is roused, possibly they may consider still more of that, as well as of silver coin. " Should these reflections prove of any public utility, my end will be answered." REFLECTIONS. 1. Coins are pieces of metal on which an impression is struck, which impression is understood by the legis- lature to ascertain the weight and intrinsic value, or worth, of each piece. 2. The real value of coins depends not on a piece being called a guinea, a crown, or a shilling ; but the true worth of any particular piece of gold or silver is what such piece contains of fine or pure gold or silver. 3. Silver and copper being mixed with gold, and copper with silver, are generally understood to render those metals more durable when circulating in coins; yet air and moisture evidently affect copper, whether by POLITICAL ECONOMY. 411 itself or mixed with o;her metal; whereas pure gold and silver are much less affected or corroded thereby. 4. The quantity of silver and copper so mixed by way of alloy is fixed by the legislature. When melted with pure metal, or added or extracted to make a law- ful proportion, both gold and silver are brought to what is called standard. This alloy of silver and cop- per is never reckoned of any value. The standard, once fixed, should ever be invariable ; since any altera- tion would be followed by great confusion and detri- ment to the state. 5. It is for public convenience and for facilitating the bartering between mankind for their respective wants, that coins were invented and made ; for, were there no coins, gold and silver might be made or left pure ; and what we now call a guinea's worth of any thing might be cut off from gold, and a crown's worth from silver, and might serve, though not so commo- diously as coin. 6. Hence it is evident, that, in whatever shape, form, or quality these metals are, they are brought to be the most common measure between man and man, serving to barter against or exchange for all kinds of commodi- ties ; and consequently are no more than an universal accepted merchandise ; for gold and silver in bullion, that is to say, in an uncoined mass, and gold or silver in coin, being of equal weight, purity, and fineness, must be of equal value the one to the other ; for the stamp on either of these metals, duly proportioned, nei- ther adds to nor takes from their intrinsic value.* 7. The prices of gold and silver, as merchandise, * There is an incidental value, which arises from the authority of the state, which is in the nature of a credit or assurance of value given by the state, that either issues or authorizes the issue of the coin. — W. T. F. 412 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. must in all countries, like other commodities, fluctuate and vary according to the demand, and no detriment can arise therefrom more than from the rise and fall of any other merchandise. But if, when coined, a due proportion of these metals, the one to the other, be not established, the disproportion will be felt and proved; and that metal wherein the excess in the proportion is allowed, will preferably be made use of, either in exportation or in manufacture, as is the case now in this kingdom in regard to silver coin, and which in some measure is the occasion of its scarcity. For so long as 15 ounces and about one fifth of pure silver in Great Britain are ordained and deemed to be equal to one ounce of pure gold, whilst in neigh- bouring states, as France and Holland, the propor- tion is fixed only 141 ounces of pure silver to one ounce of pure gold, it is very evident, that our silver when coined will always be the most acceptable mer- chandise by near five hi the hundred, and consequent- ly more liable to be taken away or melted down, than before it received the impression at the mint. 8. Sixty-two shillings only are ordained by law to be coined from 12 ounces of standard silver. Now, fol- lowing the proportion above mentioned of 15} to 14y, no regard being necessary as to alloy, 65 shillings should be the quantity cut out of those 12 ounces. 9. No everlasting, invariable fixation for coining can be made from a medium of the market price of gold and silver, though that medium might with ease be ascertained, so as to hinder either coined gold or silver from becoming a merchandise ; for, whenever the price shall rise above that medium, so as to give a profit, whatever is coined will be made a merchandise. This in the nature of things must come from the general exchanging, circulation, and fluctuation in trade, and POLITICAL ECONOMY. 413 cannot be hindered ; but assuredly the false proportions may be amended by the legislature, and settled as the proportion between gold and silver is in other nations ; so as not to make, as now is the case, our coined silver a merchandise, so much to be preferred to the same silver uncoined. 10. What has been said seems to be self-evident; but the following calculations made on the present cur- rent price of silver and gold may serve to prove beyond all doubt, that the proportion now fixed between gold and silver should be altered and fixed as in other countries. By law, 62 shillings are to be coined out of one pound or 12 ounces of standard silver. This is 62 pence an ounce. Melt these 62 shillings, and in a bar this pound weight at market will fetch 68 pence an ounce, or 68 shillings the pound. The difference, therefore, between coined and uncoined silver in Great Britain is now nine and two thirds per cent. Out of a pound or 12 ounces of standard gold, 44 guineas and a half are ordained to be coined. This is £3. 17s. lOid. an ounce. Now the current market price of standard gold is <£3. 19s. an ounce, which makes not quite one and a half per cent difference between the coined and uncoined gold. The state out of duties imposed pays for the charge of coining, as indeed it ought, for it is for public con- venience, as already said, that coins are made. It is the current market price of gold and silver that must govern the carrying it to the mint. It is absurd to think, that any one should carry gold to be coined that should cost more than £3. 17 s. 10£d. an ounce, or silver more than 62 pence the ounce ; and as absurd would it be to pretend, that those prices only shall be the constant, invariable prices. It is contended, that there 414 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. is not a proper proportion fixed in the value of one metal to another, and this requires alteration. 11. It may be urged, that should the legislature fix the proportion of silver to gold, as in other countries, by ordering 65 shillings instead of 62 to be cut out of a pound of standard silver, yet still there would be four and two thirds per cent difference between coined and uncoined silver; whereas there is but about one and a half per cent difference in gold. On this we shall observe, that the course of trade, not to mention extraordinary accidents, will make one metal more in request at one time than another; and the legislature in no one particular country can bias, or pre- scribe rules or laws to influence, such demand, which ever must depend on the great chain of things in which all the operations of this world are linked. Freedom and security only are wanted in trade; nor does coin require more, if a just proportion in the metals be settled. 12. To return to gold; it is matter of surprise, that the division of the piece called a guinea has not been made smaller than just one half, as it now is ; that is, into quarters, thirds, and two-thirds. Hereby the want of silver coin might be greatly provided for, and those pieces, together with the light silver coin, which can only now remain with us, would sufficiently serve the uses in circulation. In Portugal, where almost all their coin is gold, there are divisions of the moedas, or 27 shilling pieces, into tenths, sixths, quarters, thirds, halves, and two- thirds ; of the moeda and one-third, or 36 shilling piece, into eighths, quarters, and halves. 13. That to the lightness of the silver coin now remaining in Great Britain we owe all the silver coin we now have, any person with weights and scales may POLITICAL ECONOMY. 415 prove ; as upwards of 70 shillings coined in the reign of King William, or dexterously counterfeited by false coiners, will scarce weigh 12 ounces or a pound troy. 14. All the art of man can never hinder a constant exportation and importation of gold and silver to make up for the different calls and balances that may happen in trade ; for, were silver to be coined as above, 65 shil- lings out of a pound troy weight of standard silver, if those 65 shillings would sell at a price that makes it worth while to melt or export them, they must and will be considered and used as a merchandise ; and the same will hold as to gold. Though the proportion of about fourteen and a half of pure silver to one of pure gold in neighbouring states be now fixed in regard to their coin, and it is submitted such proportion should be attended to in this kingdom, yet that proportion may be subject to alteration; for this plain reason, that, should the silver mines -produce a quantity of that metal so as to make it greatly abound more in proportion than it now does, and the gold mines produce no more than now they do, more silver must be requisite to purchase gold. 15. That the welfare of any state depends on its keeping all its gold and silver either in bullion or in coin is a very narrow principle; all the republics we know of wisely think otherwise. It is an utter impos- sibility, nor should it ever be aimed at; for gold and silver are as clearly a merchandise as lead and tin, and consequently should have a perfect freedom and liberty,* coined and uncoined, to go and to come, pass * As a general principle this is unquestionably true ; but it must be general or every nation with whom commerce is extensively carried on must alike adopt it, or the principle immediately assumes an exception- able character, and nations liable to be affected by it must provide means to counteract the effects of a sudden drain of the usual circulating 416 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. and repass, from one country to another in the general circulation and fluctuation of commerce, which will ever carry a general balance with it ; for we should as soon give our lead, our tin, or any other product of our land or industry, to those who want them, without an equivalent in some shape or other, as we should gold or silver, which it would be absurd to imagine can ever be done by our nation or by any nation upon earth. 16. From Spain and Portugal come the greatest part of gold and silver, and the Spanish court very wisely permits the exportation of it on paying a duty, as in Great Britain lead and tin do when exported ; whereas heretofore, and as it still continues in Portugal, penal laws were enacted against the sending it out of the country. Surely princes by enacting such laws could not think they had it in their power to decree and establish, that their subjects or themselves should not give an equivalent for what was furnished to them ! 17. It is not our intention to descend into, or to dis- cuss minutely, particular notions or systems, such as, that silver and not gold should be the standard money or coin ; that copper is an unfit material for money ; and, that paper circulating as, and catted artificial money, is detrimental. Yet, as these doctrines seem to proceed from considering bullion and money or coin in a different light from what we apprehend and have laid down, we will observe, 18. That it matters not whether silver or gold be called standard money ; but it seems most rational, that the most scarce and precious metal should be the unit or standard. medium, because the absence of a great quantity of the medium alters the price of exchange, or relative exchange of current money for neces- sary labor and subsistence, and depreciates other property. — W. T. F. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 417 19. That, as to copper, it is as fit for money or a counter as gold and silver, provided it be coined of a proper weight and fineness ; and just so much will be useful as will serve to make up small parts in exchanges between man and man. 20. That, as to paper money, it is far from being detrimental ; on the contrary, it is highly profitable, as its quick passing between mankind, instead of telling over or weighing metal in coin or bullion, is a gain of what is most precious in life, which is time. And there is nothing clearer, than that those who must be concerned in counting and weighing, being at liberty to employ themselves on other purposes, are an addition of hands in the community. The idea of the too great extension of credit, by the circulation of paper for money, is evidently as erroneous as the doctrine of the non- exportation of gold and silver in bullion or coin ; for, were it not certain, that paper could command the equivalent of its agreed-for value, or that gold and silver in bullion or coin, export- ed, would be returned in the course of trade in some other merchandise, neither paper would be used nor the metals exported. It is by means of the produce of the land and the happy situation of this island, joined to the industry of its inhabitants, that those much adored metals, gold and silver, have been pro- cured ; and so long as the sea does not overflow the land and industry continues, so long will those metals not be wanting. And paper in the general chain of credit and commerce is as useful as they are, since the issuers or coiners of that paper are understood to have some equivalent to answer for what the paper is valued at, and no metal or coin can do more than find its value. Moreover, as incontestable advantages of paper we VOL. ii. 53 418 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. must add, that the charge of coining or making it is by no means proportionate to that of coining of metals ; nor is it subject to waste by long use, or impaired by adulteration, sweating, or filing, as coins may. NOTIONS CONCERNING TRADE AND MERCHANTS. 1. WERE it possible for men, remote from each other, to know easily one another's wants and abundances, and practicable for them on all occasions conveniently to meet and make fair exchanges of their respective commodities, there would then be no use of the middle man or merchant ; such a profession would not exist. 2. But, since that is not possible, were all govern- ments to appoint a number of public officers, whose duty and business it should be to inform themselves thoroughly of those wants and abundances, and to pro- cure, by proper management, all the exchanges that would tend to increase the general happiness, such officers, if they could well discharge their trust, would deserve honors and salaries equivalent to their industry and fidelity. 3. But, as in large communities, and for the more general occasions of mankind, such officers have never been appointed, perhaps from a conviction that it would be impracticable for such an appointment effectually to answer its purpose, it seems necessary to permit men, who for the possible profits in prospect will undertake it, to fetch and carry, at all distances, the produce of other men's industry, and thereby assist those .useful exchanges. 4. As the persons primarily interested in these ex- POLITICAL ECONOMY. 419 changes cannot conveniently meet to make known their wants and abundances, and to bargain for exchanges, those who transport the goods should be interested to study the probability of these wants, and where to find the means of supplying them ; and, since there exist no salaries or public rewards for them in proportion to their skill, industry, and utility to the people in general, nor to make them any compensation for their losses arising from inexpertness or from accident, it seems reasonable that, for their encouragement to follow the business, they should be left to make such profits by it as they can, which, where it is open to all, will probably seldom be extravagant. And perhaps by this means the business will be better done for the general advan- tage, and those who do it more properly rewarded according to their merits, than would be the case, were special officers to be appointed for that service. A THOUGHT CONCERNING THE SUGAR ISLANDS. SHOULD it be agreed, and become a part of the law of nations, that the cultivators of the earth are not to be molested or interrupted in their peaceable and use- ful employment, the inhabitants of the sugar islands would come under the protection of such a regulation, which would be a great advantage to the nations who at present hold those islands ; since the cost of sugar to the consumer in those nations consists, not only in the price he pays for it by the pound, but in the accumulated charge of all the taxes he pays in every war to fit out fleets and maintain troops for the defence of the islands that raise the sugar, and the ships that bring it home. 420 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. But the expense of treasure is not all. A celebrated philosophical writer remarks, that, when he considered the wars made in Africa for prisoners to raise sugar in America, the numbers slain in those wars, the numbers that, being crowded in ships, perish in the transporta- tion, and the numbers that die under the severities of slavery, he could scarce look on a morsel of sugar with- out conceiving it spotted with human blood. If he had considered also the blood of one another which the white natives shed in fighting for those islands, he would have imagined his sugar not as spotted only, but as thoroughly dyed red. On these accounts I am persuaded that the subjects of the Emperor of Germany, and the Empress of Rus- sia, who have no sugar islands, consume sugar cheaper at Vienna and Moscow, with all the charge of transport- ing it, after its arrival in Europe, than the citizens of London and Paris. And I sincerely believe, that, if France and England were to decide by throwing dice, which should have the whole of their sugar islands, the loser in the throw would be the gainer. The future expense of defending them would be saved ; the su- gars would be bought cheaper by all Europe, if the in- habitants might make it without interruption ; and, who- ever imported the sugar, the same revenue might be raised by duties at the custom-house of the nation that consumed it. And, on the whole, I conceive it would be better for the nations now possessing sugar colonies, to give up their claim to them, let them govern them- selves, and put them under the protection of all the powers of Europe as neutral countries open to the com- merce of all, the profit of the present monopolies being by no means equivalent to the expense of maintaining them. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 421 OF THE PAPER MONEY OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. MTTCH conversation having arisen lately on the sub- ject of this money, and few persons being well ac- quainted with the nature of it, you may possibly oblige many of your readers by the following account of it. When Great Britain commenced the present war upon the colonies, they had neither arms nor ammuni- tion, nor money to purchase them or to pay soldiers. The new government had not immediately the con- sistence necessary for collecting heavy taxes ; nor would taxes that could be raised within the year during peace, have been sufficient for a year's expense in time of war ; they therefore printed a quantity of paper bills, each expressing to be of the value of a certain number of Spanish dollars, from one to thirty ; with these they paid, clothed, and fed their troops, fitted out ships, and supported the war during five years against one of the most powerful nations of Europe. The paper thus issued, passed current in all the internal commerce of the United States at par with sil- ver during the first year ; supplying the place of the gold and silver formerly current, but which was sent out of the country to purchase arms, &c., or to defray ex- penses of the army in Canada ; but the great num- ber of troops necessary to be kept on foot to defend a coast of near five hundred leagues in length, from an ene- my, who, being masters at sea, could land troops where they pleased, occasioned such a demand for money, and such frequent additional emissions of new bills, that the quantity became much greater than was wanted for the purposes of commerce; and, the commerce VOL. II. JJ 422 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. being diminished by the war, the surplus quantity of cash was by that means also proportionally augmented. It has been long and often observed, that when the current money of a country is augmented beyond the occasions for money, as a medium of commerce, its value as money diminishes. Its interest is reduced, and the principal sinks, if some means are not found to take off the surplus quantity. Silver may be carried out of the country that produces it, into other countries, and thereby prevent too great a fall of its value in that country. But, when by this means it grows more plen- tiful in all other countries, nothing prevents its sinking hi value. Thus within three hundred years since the discovery of America, and the vast quantities of gold and silver imported from thence, and spread over Europe and the rest of the world, those metals have sunk hi value four fifths, that is, five ounces of silver will not purchase more labor now than an ounce would have done before that discovery. Had Spain been able to confine all that treasure within its own territories, silver would probably have been there of no more value by this time than iron or lead. The exportation has kept its value on a level with its value in other parts of the world. Paper money not being easily received out of the country that makes it, if the quantity becomes excessive, the depreciation is quicker and greater. Thus the excessive quantities which necessity ob- liged the Americans to issue for continuing the war, occasioned a depreciation of value, which, commencing towards the end of 1776, has gone on augmenting, till at the beginning of the present year, fifty, sixty, and as far as seventy dollars in paper were reckoned not more than equal to one dollar in silver, and the prices of all things rose in proportion. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 423 Before the depreciation commenced, the Congress, fearing it, stopped for a time the emission of new bills, and resolved to supply their occasions by borrowing. Those who lent them the paper money at that time and until March, 1778, fixed their property and pre- vented its depreciation ; the interest being regularly paid by bills of exchange on France, which supports the value of the principal sums lent. These loans not being sufficient, the Congress were forced to print more bills, and depreciation proceeded. The Congress would borrow no more on the former conditions of paying the interest in French money at Paris ; but great sums were offered and lent them on the terms of being paid the interest, and repaid the principal in the same bills in America. These loans in some degree lessened, but did not quite take away, the necessity of new emissions ; so that it at length arrived at the excessive difference between the value of paper and silver, that is above mentioned. To put an end to this evil, which destroyed all cer- tainty in commerce, the Congress first resolved to dimin- ish the quantity gradually by taxes, which, though nominally vastly great, were really less heavy than they appeared to be, and were readily paid. By these taxes fifteen millions of Spanish dollars, of the two hundred millions extant, are to be brought in monthly and burnt. This operation will destroy the whole quantity, to wit, two hundred millions, in about fourteen months. Thirty millions have already been so destroyed. To prevent in the mean time the farther progress of the depreciation, and give some kind of determinate value to the paper, it was ordained, that, for every sum of forty dollars payable by any person as tax, he might discharge himself by paying one dollar in silver. Whether this expedient will produce the effect intend- ed or not, experience and time must discover. 424 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. The general effect of the depreciation among the inhabitants of the States has been this, that it has operated as a gradual tax upon them, their business has been done and paid for by the paper money, and every man has paid his share of the tax according to the time he retained any of the money in his hands, and to the depreciation within that time. Thus it has proved a tax on money, a kind of property very diffi- cult to be taxed in any other mode ; and it has fallen more equally than many other taxes, as those people paid most, who, being richest, had most money passing through their hands. With regard to the paper money or bills borrowed by the Congress, it appears by the above account to be under two different descriptions. First, the quantity of bills borrowed before the de- preciation, the interest of which in silver was to be and is paid. The principal of this sum is considered as equal in value to so many dollars of silver as were borrowed in paper, and will be paid in silver accord- ingly. Secondly, the quantities of bills borrowed in differ- ent stages of the depreciation down to the present time. These sums are, by a resolution of Congress, to be repaid in silver according to the value they were of in silver at the time they were lent ; and the inter- est is to be paid at the same rate. Thus those lenders have their property secured from the loss by deprecia- tion subsequent to the time of their loan. All the inhabitants are satisfied and pleased with this arrangement, their public debt being by this means reduced to a small sum. And the new paper money, which bears interest, and for the payment of which solid funds are provided, is actually in credit equal to real silver. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 425 If any persons living in distant countries have, through their absence from their property in America, suffered loss by not having it timely fixed in the several loans above mentioned, it is not doubted but that, upon an application to Congress stating the case, they will meet with redress. The real money used in the United States is French, Spanish, Portuguese, and English coins, gold and silver. The most common is Spanish milled dollars, worth five livres five sols tournois. The nominal money is generally paper, reckoned in pounds, shillings, and pence, of different value in the different States when compared with real money, and that value often changing, so that nothing certain can be said of it. Everywhere the accounts are kept in the nominal pounds, shillings, and pence, the pound con- taining twenty shillings, and the shilling twelve pence, whatever may be the real value. Bills of exchange are frequently drawn on Europe ; the rate of exchange differing in different States, and fluctuating in the same State, occasioned by the greater or less plenty of bills or of demand for others ; they are commonly drawn at thirty days' sight. The usages in buying and selling merchandises, are much the same as in Europe, except that in Virginia the planter carries his tobacco to magazines, where it is inspected by officers, who ascertain its quality and give receipts expressing the quantity. The merchants receive these receipts in payment for goods, and after- wards draw the tobacco out of the magazines for ex- portation. Weights and measures are uniform in all the States, following the standard of Great Britain. Money is lent either upon bond or on mortgage, pay- able in a year with interest. The interest differs in the different States from five to seven per cent. VOL. ii. 54 JJ* 426 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Goods are generally imported on eighteen months' credit from Europe, sold in the country at twelve months' credit Billets or promissory notes, payable to the creditor or order, are in use, and d^mandable when due, as well as accepted bills of exchange, without any days of grace, but by particular favor. COMPARISON OF GREAT BRITAIN AND THE UNITED STATES IN REGARD TO THE BASIS OF CREDIT IN THE TWO COUNTRIES. This paper was written in the year 1777, while Franklin was one of the Commissioners from the United States in France. The object was to produce in Europe a just impression of the resources and political condition and prospects of the United States, with the view of encouraging governments and private capitalists to loan money to the American Congress. It was translated into various languages and widely circulated. — EDITOR. IN borrowing money, a man's credit depends on some, or all, of the following particulars. First. His known conduct respecting former loans, and his punctuality in discharging them. Secondly. His industry. Thirdly. His frugality. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 427 Fourthly. The amount and the certainty of his in- come, and the freedom of his estate from the incum- brances of prior debts. Fifthly. His well-founded prospects of greater future ability, by the improvement of his estate hi value, and by aids from others. Sixthly. His known prudence in managing his general affairs, and the advantage they will probably receive from the loan which he desires. Seventhly. His known probity and honest character, manifested by his voluntary discharge of debts, which he could not have been legally compelled to pay. The circumstances, which give credit to an individual, ought to have, and will have, their weight upon the lenders of money to public bodies or nations. If then we consider and compare Britain and America hi these several particulars, upon the question, "To which is it safest to lend money?" we shall find, 1. Respecting former loans, that America, who borrowed ten millions during the last war, for the maintenance of her army of twenty-five thousand men and other charges, had faithfully discharged and paid that debt, and all her other debts, in 1772. Whereas Britain, during those ten years of peace and profitable commerce, had made little or no reduction of her debt ; but on the contrary, from time to time, diminished the hopes of her creditors by a wanton diversion and misapplication of the sinking fund destined for dis- charging it. 2. Respecting industry; every man in America is employed; the greater part in cultivating their own lands, the rest in handicrafts, navigation, and commerce. An idle man there is a rarity ; idleness and inutility are disgraceful. In England the number of that char- acter is immense; fashion has spread it far and wide. 428 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Hence the embarrassments of private fortunes, and the daily bankruptcies, arising from a universal fondness for appearance and expensive pleasures; and hence, in some degree, the mismanagement of public busi- ness ; for habits of business, and ability in it, are acquired only by practice ; and, where universal dissi- pation and the perpetual pursuit of amusement are the mode, the youth educated in it can rarely after- wards acquire that patient attention and close appli- cation to affairs, which are so necessary to a statesman charged with the care of national welfare. Hence their frequent errors in policy, and hence the weariness at public councils, and backwardness in going to them, the constant unwillingness to engage in any measure that requires thought and consideration, and the readi- ness for postponing every new proposition ; which postponing is therefore the only part of business they come to be expert in, an expertness produced neces- sarily by so much daily practice, Whereas, hi America, men bred to close employment in their private affairs attend with ease to those of the public when engaged in them, and nothing fails through negligence. 3. Respecting frugality; the manner of living in. America is more simple and less expensive than in England ; plain tables, plain clothing, and plain fur- niture in houses prevail, with few carriages of pleasure. There an expensive appearance hurts credit, and is avoided ; in England it is often assumed to gain credit, and continued to ruin. Respecting public affairs, the dif- ference is still greater. In England the salaries of officers and emoluments of office are enormous. The King has a million sterling per annum, and yet cannot maintain his family free of debt; secretaries of state, lords of the treasury, admiralty, &c., have vast appointments ; an auditor of the exchequer has sixpence in the pound, POLITICAL ECONOMY. 429 or a fortieth part, of all the public money expended by the nation, so that, when a war costs forty millions, one million is paid to him ; an inspector of the mint, in the last new coinage, received as his fee £ 65,000 sterling per annum; to all which rewards no service these gentlemen can render the public is by any means equivalent. All this is paid by the people, who are oppressed by taxes so occasioned, and thereby ren- dered less able to contribute to the payment of necessary national debts. In America, salaries, where indispensable, are extremely low; but much of the public business is done gratis. The honor of serving the public ably and faithfully is deemed sufficient. Public spirit really exists there, and has great effects. In England it is universally deemed a nonentity, and whoever pretends to it is laughed at as a fool, or sus- pected as a knave. The committees of Congress, which form the board of war, the board of treasury, the board of foreign affairs, the naval board, that for accounts, &c., all attend the business of their respective functions without any salary or emolument whatever, though they spend in it much more of their time, than any lord of the treasury or admiralty in England can spare from his amusements. A British minister lately computed, that the whole expense of the Americans in their civil government, over three millions of people, amounted to but £70,000 sterling, and drew from thence a conclusion, that they ought to be taxed, until their expense was equal in proportion to that which it costs Great Britain to govern eight millions. He had no idea of a contrary conclusion, that, if three millions may be well governed for £70,000, eight millons may be as well governed for three times that sum, and that therefore the expense of his own government should 430 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. be diminished. In that corrupted nation, no man is ashamed of being concerned in lucrative government jobs, in which the public money is egregiously misap- plied and squandered, the treasury pillaged, and more numerous and heavy taxes accumulated, to the great oppression of the people. But the prospect of a greater number of such jobs by a war is an induce- ment with many to cry out for war upon all occasions, and to oppose every proposition of peace. Hence the constant increase of the national debt, and the absolute improbability of its ever being discharged. 4. Respecting the amount and certainty of income, and solidity of security ; the whole thirteen States of America are engaged for the payment of every debt contracted by the Congress, and the debt to be con- tracted by the present war is the only debt they will have to pay; all, or nearly all, the former debts of particular colonies being already discharged. Whereas England will have to pay, not only the enormous debt this war must occasion, but all their vast preceding debt, or the interest of it; and, while America is enriching itself by prizes made upon the British com- merce, more than it ever did by any commerce of its own, under the restraints of a British monopoly, Brit- ain is growing poorer by the diminution of its reve- nues, and of course less able to discharge the present indiscreet increase of its expenses. 5. Respecting prospects of greater future ability, Britain has none such. Her islands are circumscribed by the ocean ; and, excepting a few parks or forests, she has no new land to cultivate, and cannot therefore extend her improvements. Her numbers, too, instead of increasing from increased subsistence, are contin- ually diminishing from growing luxury, and the in- POLITICAL ECONOMY. 431 creasing difficulties of maintaining families, which of course discourage early marriages. Thus she will have fewer people to assist in paying her debts, and that diminishing number will be poorer. America, on the contrary, has, besides her lands already cultivated, a vast territory yet to be cultivated; which, being cul- tivated, continually increases in value with the increase of people; and the people, who double themselves by a natural propagation every twenty-five years, will double yet faster by the accession of strangers, as long as lands are to be had for new families ; so that every twenty years there will be a double number of inhabitants obliged to discharge the public debts ; and those inhabitants, being more opulent, may pay their shares with greater ease. 6. Respecting prudence in general affairs, and the advantages to be expected from the loan desired, the Americans are cultivators of land ; those engaged in fishery and commerce are few, compared with the others. They have ever conducted their several governments with wisdom, avoiding wars and vain, expensive projects, delighting only in their peaceable occupations, which must, considering the extent of their uncultivated territory, find them employment still for ages. Whereas England, ever unquiet, ambitious, avaricious, imprudent, and quarrelsome, is half of the time engaged in war, always at an expense infinitely greater than the advantages to be obtained by it, if successful. Thus they made war against Spain in 1739, for a claim of about £ 95,000, (scarce a groat for each individual of the nation), and spent forty millions sterling in the war, and the lives of fifty thou- sand men; and finally made peace without obtaining satisfaction for the sum claimed. Indeed, there is 432 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. scarce a nation in Europe, against which she has not made war on some frivolous pretext or other, and thereby imprudently accumulated a debt, that has brought her on the verge of bankruptcy. But the most indiscreet of all her wars is the present against America, with whom she might for ages have preserved her profitable connexion only by a just and equitable conduct. She is now acting like a mad shop-keeper, who, by beating those that pass his doors, attempts to make them come in and be his customers. America cannot submit to such treatment, without being first ruined, and, being ruined, her custom will be worth nothing. England, to effect this, is increasing her debt, and irretrievably ruining herself. America, on the other hand, aims only to establish her liberty, and that freedom of commerce which will be advantageous to all Europe ; and, by abolishing that monopoly which she labored under, she will profit infinitely more than enough to repay any debt, which she may contract to accomplish it. 7. Respecting character in the honest payment of debts, the punctuality with which America has dis- charged her public debts was shown under the first head. And the general good disposition of the people to such punctuality has been manifested in their faithful payment of private debts to England, since the com- mencement of this war. There were not wanting some politicians (in America), who proposed stopping that payment) until peace should be restored, alleging, that in the usual course of commerce, and of the credit given, there was always a debt existing equal to the trade of eighteen months ; that, the trade amounting to five millions sterling per annum, the debt must be seven millions and a half; that this sum paid to the POLITICAL ECONOMY. 433 British merchants would operate to prevent that dis- tress, intended to be brought upon Britain by our stoppage of commerce with her; for the merchants, receiving this money, and no orders with it for further supplies, would either lay it out in public funds, or in employing manufacturers to accumulate goods for a future hungry market in America upon an expected accommodation, by which means the funds would be kept up and the manufacturers prevented from mur- muring. But against this it was alleged, that injuries from ministers should not be revenged on merchants; that the credit was hi consequence of private contracts made in confidence of good faith ; that these ought to 'be held sacred and faithfully complied with ; for that, whatever public utility might be supposed to arise from a breach of private faith, it was unjust, and would in the end be found unwise, honesty being in truth the best policy. On this principle the proposition was universally rejected ; and though the English prosecuted the war with unexampled barbarity, burning our de- fenceless towns in the midst of winter, and arming savages against us, the debt was punctually paid, and the merchants of London have testified to the Parliix- ment, and will testify to all the world, that from their experience in dealing with us they had, before the war, no apprehension of our unfairness, and that, since the war, they have been convinced that their good opinion of us was well founded. England, on the contrary, an old, corrupt government, extravagant and profligate nation, sees herself deep in debt, which she is in no condition to pay, and yet is madly and dishonestly running deeper, without any possibility of discharging her debt but by a public bankruptcy. It appears, therefore, from the general industry, fru- gality, ability, prudence, and virtue of America, that VOL. II. 55 KK 434 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. she is a much safer debtor than Britain ; to say nothing of the satisfaction generous minds must have in re- flecting, that by loans to America they are opposing tyranny, and aiding the cause of liberty, which is the cause of all mankind. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 435 REFLECTIONS ON THE AUGMENTATION OF WAGES, WHICH WILL BE OCCASIONED IN EUROPE BY THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION. I know not whether these Reflections have ever before appeared in an English dress. They are here presented in a translation from the French, as published in CASTERA'S edition of the author's wri- tings. Castera says, that a copy was found among Franklin's papers, and inserted in the Journal d? Economic Publique, (du 10 Ventos*! an V.) ; but, not being able to procure that journal, he trans- lated it from the German version contained in the Minerva, edited by Archenholz. The following is a translation from Castera's ver- sion ; and, after having thus passed through two languages, the style and other characteristics of the original must of course be essential- ly changed, and not for the better. But the sentiments and train of reasoning are perhaps retained with sufficient accuracy, and, even in this imperfect form, it may be deemed worthy of the author. Whether his views are not more ingenious than sound, and whether they have been confirmed by experience, are at least questionable points. The paper was probably written in France, during the American Revolution, or immediately after the peace. — EDITOR. THE independence and prosperity of the United States of America will raise the price of wages in Eu- rope, an advantage of which I believe no one has yet spoken. The low rate of wages is one of the greatest defects b the political associations of Europe, or rather of the old world. 436 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. If the term wages be taken in its widest signification, it will be found that almost all the citizens of a large state receive and pay wages. I shall confine my re- marks, however, to one description of wages, the only one with which government should intermeddle, or which requires its care. I mean the wages of the low- est class, those men without property, without capital, who live solely by the labor of their hands. This is always the most numerous class in a state ; and, conse- quently, that community cannot be pronounced happy, in which, from the lowness and insufficiency of wages, the laboring class procure so scanty a subsistence, that, barely able to provide for their own necessities, they have not the means of marrying and rearing a family, and are reduced to beggary, whenever employment fails them, or age and sickness oblige them to give up work. Further, the wages under consideration ought not to be estimated by their amount in money, but by the quantity of provisions, clothing, and other commodities, which the laborer can procure for the money which he receives. Unhappily, in all the political states of the old \voiid, a numerous class of citizens have nothing to live upon but their wages, and these are inadequate to their sup- port. This is the real cause of the misery of so many day -laborers, who work in the fields, or in manufactories in towns ; of pauperism, an evil which is spreading ev- ery day, more and more, because governments attempt to check it by feeble remedies only ; of depravity of morals ; and of almost every crime. The policy of tyranny and of commerce has overlooked and disguised these truths. The horrible maxim, that the people must be poor, in order that they may remain in subjection, is still held by many persons of hard hearts and perverted understanding, with whom it were useless to contend. Others, again, think that the people should be poor, POLITICAL ECONOMY. 437 from a regard for the supposed interests of commerce. They believe that to increase the rate of wages would raise the price of the productions of the soil, and espe- cially of industry, which are sold to foreign nations, and thus that exportation and the profits arising from it would be diminished. But this motive is at once cruel and ill-founded. It is cruel ; for, whatever may be the advantages of foreign commerce, if, in order to possess them, half the nation must languish in misery, we cannot without crime endeavour to obtain them, and it becomes the duty of a government to relinquish them. To desire to keep down the rate of wages, with the view of favoring the exportation of merchandise, is to seek to render the citi- zens of a state miserable, in order that foreigners may purchase its productions at a cheaper rate ; it is, at most, attempting to enrich a few merchants by impov- erishing the body of the nation ; it is taking the part of the stronger in that contest, already so unequal, between the man who can pay wages, and him who is under the necessity of receiving them ; it is, in one word, to forget, that the object of every political society ought to be the happiness of the largest number. This motive is, moreover, ill-founded ; for, in order to secure to a nation a profitable export for the products of its agriculture and manufactures, it is not necessary that the rate of wages should be reduced so extremely low, as we find it in almost all the countries of Europe. It is not the wages of the workman, but the price of the merchandise, that should be lowered, in order that this merchandise may be sold to foreign nations. But men have always neglected to make this distinction. The wages of the laborer are the price of his day's work. The price of merchandise is the sum it costs to gath- er the produce of the soil, or prepare any product 438 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. of industry. The price of this production may be very moderate, while the laborer may receive good wages, that is, the means of procuring a comfortable subsist- ence. The labor necessary to gather or prepare the ar- ticle to be sold may be cheap, and the wages of the workman good. Although the workmen of Manchester and Norwich, and those of Amiens and Abbeville, are employed in the same kind of labor, the former receive considerably higher wages than the latter ; and yet the woollen fabrics of Manchester and Norwich, of the same quality, are not so dear as those of Amiens and Ab- beville. It would occupy too much time fully to develope this principle. I will only observe here, that it results in a great measure from the fact, that the price of labor in the arts, and even in agriculture, is wonderfully dimin- ished by the perfection of the machinery employed in them, by the intelligence and activity of the workmen, and by the judicious division of labor. Now these methods of reducing the price of manufactured articles have noth- ing to do with the low wages of the workman. In a large manufactory, where animals are employed instead of men, and machinery instead of animal power, and where that judicious division of labor is made, which doubles, nay, increases tenfold, both power and time, the article can be manufactured and sold at a much lower rate, than in those establishments, which do not enjoy the same advantages ; and yet the workmen in the former may receive twice as much as in the latter. It is, undoubtedly, an advantage for a manufactory to obtain workmen at a moderate price ; and excessively high wages are an obstacle to the foundation of large manufacturing establishments. This high price of wa- ges, as I shall presently explain, is one reason for the opinion which is entertained, that it will be many years POLITICAL ECONOMY. 439 before the manufactures of the United States of Ameri- ca can rival those of Europe. But we must not con- clude from this, that manufactures cannot prosper, un- less the wages of the workmen are reduced as low as we find them in Europe. And, moreover, the insuffi- ciency of wages occasions the decline of a manufactory, as its prosperity is promoted by a high rate of wages. High wages attract the most skilful and most indus- trious workmen. Thus the article is better made; it sells better ; and, in this way, the employer makes a greater profit, than he could do by diminishing the pay of the workmen. A good workman spoils fewer tools, wastes less material, and works faster, than one of inferior skill ; and thus the profits of the manufacturer are in- creased still more. The perfection of machinery in all the arts is owing, in a great degree, to the workmen. There is no impor- tant manufacture, in which they have not invented some useful process, which saves time and materials, or improves the workmanship. If common articles of man- ufacture, the only ones worthy to interest the statesman, if woollen, cotton, and even silk stuffs, articles made of iron, steel, copper, skins, leather, and various other things, are generally of better quality, at the same price, in England than in other countries, it is because work- men are there better paid. The low rate of wages, then, is not the real cause of the advantages of commerce between one nation and another ; but it is one of the greatest evils of political communities. Let us now inquire what is the situation of the Unit- ed States in this respect. The condition of the day- laborer, in these states, is infinitely better than in the wealthiest countries in the old world, and particularly England, where, however, wages are higher than in any 440 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. other part of Europe. In the state of New York, the lowest class of workmen and those employed in the most ordinary kinds of labor usually gain " three shillings and sixpence currency, equal to two shillings sterling, a day ; ship -carpenters, ten shillings and sixpence curren- cy, with a pint of rum, equal in all to five shillings and sixpence sterling; house -carpenters and brick-layers, eight shillings currency, equal to four shillings and six- pence sterling ; journeymen tailors, five shillings curren- cy, equal to about two shillings and ten pence sterling." These prices, much higher than those of London, are quite as high in other parts of the United States as in New York. I have taken them from Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations.* An intelligent observer, who travelled through a part of the United States in 1780, gives us a still more favorable idea of the price that is paid there for work. " At Farmington," says he, " I saw them weaving a kind of camblet, and also a blue and white striped woollen cloth, for women's clothing. These fabrics are all sold at three shillings and sixpence per ell, f in the currency of the country, equal to about forty-five sous tournois. The sons and the grandsons of the master of the * Book I. chap. 3. This was written in the year 1773. The money price of wages has since that time risen very much in the United States. At present (1835) in Boston, the rate of wages in the same trades is about as follows, viz. common labor per diem, sixty- eight and | cents, equal to five shillings and sixpence of the New York currency in shil- lings and pence ; ship-carpenters $2, equal to sixteen shillings New York ; housewrights $1,75, equal to fourteen shillings New York ; brick- layers $2,25, equal to twenty shillings New York ; tailors $1,50 equal to twelve shillings New York. This is the rate of wages for journey- men in each of the above trades. The rate in the principal towns in the northern and middle States generally does not vary materially from that in Boston. The laborer is supposed to support himself at the above rate of wages ; and fortunately the pint of rum is not now so generally a part of his requisite supplies, as it was at the time when Adam Smith wrote his work. — W. PHILLIPS. f About thirty-three inches. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 441 house were working at the business. One workman can easily make five ells of this cloth a day ; and as the original material costs but a shilling, he can earn ten or twelve shillings by his day's labor." But this fact is so well known, that it is superfluous to attempt to prove it by further examples. The causes of the high price of labor in our Ameri- can States must then continue to operate more and more powerfully ; since agriculture and population ad- vance there with such rapidity, that labor of every de- scription is increased in proportion. Nor is this all. The high rate of wages paid them in money proves, that they are even better than one would suppose them at first view; and, in order to estimate them correctly, an important circumstance should be known. In every part of North America, the necessa- ries of life are cheaper than in England. Scarcity is unknown there. In the least productive seasons, the harvest is always sufficient for the supply of the inhabit- ants, and they are only obliged to diminish the exporta- tion of their produce. Now, the price of labor in mon- ey being higher there than in England, and provisions cheaper, the actual wages, that is, the amount of ne- cessary articles, which the day laborer can buy, is so much the greater. It remains for me to show how the high rate of wages in America will increase their rate in Europe. Two distinct causes will unite in producing this ef- fect. The first is the greater quantity of labor, that Europe will have to perform, in consequence of the ex- istence of another great nation in the commercial world, and of its continual increase ; and the second, the emi- gration of European workmen, or the mere possibility of their emigrating, in order to go to America, where labor is better paid. VOL. ii. 56 442 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. It is certain, that the amount of labor in the vari- ous branches of agriculture, manufactures, commerce, and navigation, must be augmented in Europe, by the addition of several millions of men to the commercial world. Now, the amount of annual labor being increas- ed, labor will be somewhat better paid, and me rate of daily wages received by the workman will be raised by this concurrence of circumstances. For example, if the additional supply of one hundred thousand pieces of cloth, twenty thousand casks of wine, and ten thou- sand casks of brandy, is to be furnished to the Amer- icans, not only will the persons necessarily employed in the production or manufacture of these commodities receive higher wages, but the price of all other kinds of labor will be augmented. The rate of wages in Europe will be raised by yet another circumstance, with which it is important to be acquainted. I have already said, that the value of wa- ges ought not to be estimated solely by the amount of money, nor even by the quantity of subsistence, which the workman receives per day, but also by the number of days in which he is employed ; for it is by such a calculation alone, that we can find out what he has for each day. Is it not evident, that he who should be paid at the rate of forty pence a day, and should fail of obtaining work half the year, would really have but twenty pence to subsist upon, and that he would be less advantageously situated than the man, who, receiv- ing but thirty pence, could yet be supplied with work every day ? Thus the Americans, occasioning in Eu- rope an increased demand and necessity for labor, would also necessarily cause there an augmentation of wages, even supposing the price of the day's \vork to remain at the same rate. Perhaps it will be objected to what I have said, that POLITICAL ECONOMY. 443 this new nation will contain within itself as many labor- ing people as it can employ ; and that thus, adding no- thing to the quantity of work to be performed in Eu- rope, it will be no advantage to the men who perform this work. But I reply, that it is impossible but that the United States of America, in their present condition, and much more when their population and wealth shall be doubled, nay, quadrupled, should employ the labor of Europeans in one way or another. It is impossible, be- cause in this respect the Americans are not differently situated from other nations, who all have need of each other. The fertility of the American soil, the abun- dance and variety of its productions, the activity and industry of its inhabitants, and the unrestricted com- merce, which will sooner or later be established in Eu- rope in consequence of the American Independence, secure the relations of America with other countries ; be- cause she will furnish to other nations such of her pro- ductions, as they may require; and, as each country possesses some productions peculiar to itself, the de- mand and advantage will be reciprocal. The second cause, which I have said must cooperate in producing an augmentation of wages in Europe, is emigration, or the mere possibility of emigrating to America, where labor is better paid. It is easy to con- ceive, that, when this difference is generally known, it will draw to the United States many men, who, having no means of subsistence but their labor, will flock to the place where this labor is best recompensed. Since the last peace, the Irish have been continually emigrat- ing to America. The reason of this is, that in Ireland wages are much less than in England, and that the low- er classes are consequently great sufferers. Germa- ny has also furnished new citizens to the United States ; and all these laborers must, by leaving Europe, have raised the price of work for those who remain. 444 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. This salutary effect will be produced even without emigration, and will result from the mere possibility of emigrating, at least in those states of Europe whose in- habitants are not compelled to leave their own country by excessive taxation, bad laws, and the intolerance of government. In order to raise the rate of wages, it is enough that higher can be obtained in any place to which the work- man, who depends upon them, can remove. It has been wisely remarked in the discussions, which have arisen upon the corn trade, that the simple liberty of exporting grain would keep up and even raise its price, without the actual exportation of a single bushel. The case is the same with wages. As European workmen can so easily remove to America to procure higher wages, they will oblige those who purchase their labor to pay them more for it. Hence it follows, that these two causes of the rise of wages, actual emigration and the mere possibility of emigrating, will concur to produce the same effect. Each acting at first in an inconsiderable degree, there will be some emigration. Then wages will be raised, and the laborer, finding his gains increase, will no longer have a sufficiently powerful motive to emigrate. But the rise of wages will not be equally felt by the different nations of Europe. It will be more or less considerable, in proportion to the greater or less facili- ties for emigration, which each affords. England, whose manners, language, and religion are the same with those of America, must naturally enjoy this advantage in a higher degree than any other European state. We may assert, that she already owes much to America; for her relations with that country, the market which she has found there for her merchandise, and which has raised the wages of the day-laborers employed in her POLITICAL ECONOMY. 445 agriculture and manufactures, are among the principal causes of her wealth, and of the political influence we find her exerting. But, to say nothing of other advantages, which may ultimately accrue from the rise of wages, this augmen- tation has already produced one most valuable result in England. It has ameliorated the condition of that class of men, who live by the labor of their hands alone, that is, the most numerous portion of society. This class, elsewhere reduced to the most scanty sub- sistence, are much better off in England. They there obtain by their labor the necessaries of life in greater abundance than in many other parts of Europe ; and there can be no doubt, that this springs from the influ- ence of American commerce on the rate of wages. I know it may be said, that, notwithstanding the increase of labor and of subsistence in Europe, and notwithstanding the emigration which may take place, the same causes which we have mentioned, and which have reduced wages so low, will continue to operate, because they are inherent in the constitutions of Euro- pean states, whose defects will not be remedied by the liberty and prosperity of America. Perhaps it may be said, also, that the number of proprietors and capital- ists, a number very small compared with that of the men, who, having no landed property nor capital, are com- pelled to live upon wages, will remain the same, because the causes which accumulate landed property and capital in their hands will not change, and consequently that they will reduce, or rather keep wages very low. Finally, it may be said, that the tyranny of the feudal laws, the mode of taxation, the excessive increase of the public revenue, and the laws of commerce, will always pro- duce the same effect of diminishing wages, and that, VOL. II. LL 446 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. should Europe derive any real advantage, in this re- spect, from American independence, it would not be permanent. To these suggestions, many things may be said in reply. I will observe, in the first place, that, if the governments of Europe endeavour to counteract the salutary effects, which the independence of America would naturally produce in respect to them, it is not the less interesting to endeavour to ascertain what these effects would be. Better days may come, when, the true principles of the happiness of nations being better understood, there will be some sovereign suffi- ciently enlightened and just to put them in operation. The causes, which tend continually to accumulate and concentrate landed property and wealth in a few hands, may be diminished. The remains of the feudal system may be abolished, or, at least, rendered less oppressive. The mode of taxation may be changed, and its excess moderated. And, lastly, bad commercial regulations may be amended. The tendency of all these improve- ments will be, to enable the working classes to profit by the favorable change, which the American Revolu- tion must naturally produce. But, admitting that all the causes, which have just been mentioned, should concur to keep the wages, which the day -laborer receives for his work in Europe, at a low rate, they could, however, only weaken the influence exerted by the prosperity of America, and not wholly destroy it. If every thing else remained in the same state, there would still be a greater consump- tion, and consequently more labor to be performed. Now, this consumption and labor continually increasing in the same ratio with the increase of population and wealth in the New World, an augmentation of wages in Europe will be the necessary result; for the coun- POLITICAL ECONOMY. 447 teracting causes will not operate more powerfully than they now do.* * The suggestion in this essay, that the capacity of a nation for cheap production is not dependent solely upon the lowness of wages, is very just, indeed quite ohvious, and yet it is not usually so satisfactorily pre- sented in works on political economy, as it is above. Those works are apt to lead the reader into a misapprehension on this subject, by assigning to the money rate of wages too predominant an influence on the money price of products. That it is not decisive in this respect is demonstrated in the example put in the text, namely, that of England, where wages are higher than in any other European country ; and yet England maintains a successful competition in the foreign markets with other nations, and not only with those where labor is cheaper, but also with those where interest is usually lower, for instance, Holland. These are disadvantages under which England, and still more the United States, labor in competition with the Dutch in her foreign markets, and also the home markets, provided all goods, both foreign and domestic, are admitted into the home market upon the same footing without discrimination. How are these disadvantages to be compensated ? It may be by some or ail of the following advantages, viz. 1. By low rents and cheap mate- rials. 2. By plenty and cheapness of fuel. 3. By facility of inland trans- portation. 4. By a good geographical position for marine transportation. 5. By a good mercantile marine. 6. By commercial advantages secured by treaties and conventions with foreign nations. 7. By superior intelli- gence and skill of operatives. 8. By improvements in machinery and more perfect implements. 9. By more intense industry, rendering a day's labor more effective independently of any superiority of skill or implements. 10. By superior sagacity, activity, and enterprise on the part of the undertakers and conductors of the national industry. 11. By the greater enterprise, skill, and activity of the merchants. In comparing the condition of different nations as competitors in commerce, these causes ought all to be kept in view, no less than the money rate of wages and the rate of interest ; and so presented, that a just weight may be assigned to each. In regard to the influence of the growth of the United States upon the rate of wages in Europe, Franklin's argument supposes, that the in- crease of employment for European laborers will be greater in propor- tion to the increase of the laborers themselves, than if the country were stationary. The proposition is probably true, but not so obviously so, that it can be taken for granted. The essay would have been clearer and more satisfactory, had this question been treated. — W. PHILLIPS. 448 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY * IT is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of this world are managed. Naturally one would im- agine, 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 regulating 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 ex- pense, and then let us consider whether laws to pre- vent such expense are possible to be executed in a great country, and whether, if they could be executed, our people generally would be happier, or even richer. Is not the hope of being one day able to purchase and enjoy luxuries a great spur to labor and indus- try? May not luxury, therefore, produce more than it consumes, if without such a spur people would be, * From a letter to Mr. Benjamin Vaughan, dated at Passy, July 26th, 1784. POLITICAL ECONOMY. 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, under- standing that he had a daughter, sent her a present of a new-fashioned cap. Three years after, this skip- per 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 girls upon knitting worsted mit- tens for sale at Philadelphia, that they might have where- withal to buy caps and ribbons there ; and you know that that industry has continued, and is likely to con- tinue and increase to a much greater value, and an- swer better purposes." Upon the whole, I was more reconciled to this little piece of luxury, since not only the girls were made happier by having fine caps, but the Philadelphians by the supply of warm mittens. In our commercial towns upon the seacoast, fortunes will occasionally be made. Some of those who grow rich will be prudent, live within bounds, and preserve what they have gained for their posterity ; others, fond of showing their wealth, will be extravagant and ruin themselves. Laws cannot prevent this ; and perhaps it is not always an evil to the public. A shilling spent idly by a fool, may be picked up by a wiser person, VOL. II. 57 LL* 450 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. who knows better what to do with it. It is therefore not lost. A vain, silly fellow builds a fine house, fur- nishes it richly, lives in it expensively, and in few years ruins himself; but the masons, carpenters, smiths, and other honest tradesmen have been by his employ assisted in maintaining and raising their families ; the farmer has been paid for his labor, and encouraged, and the estate is now in better hands. In some cases, indeed, certain modes of luxury may be a public evil, in the same manner as it is a private one. If there be a nation, for instance, that exports its beef and linen, to pay for the importation of 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 long time keep the body of our nation laborious and frugal. Forming an opinion of our people and their manners by what is seen among the inhabitants of the seaports, is judging from an improper sample. The people of the trading towns may be rich and luxurious, while the country possesses all the virtues, that tend to promote happiness and public prosperity. Those towns are not much regarded by the country ; they are hardly considered as an essential part of the States ; and the experience of the last war has shown, that their being in the possession of the enemy did not necessarily draw on the subjection of the country, which bravely POLITICAL ECONOMY. 451 continued to maintain its freedom and independence notwithstanding. It has been computed by some political arithmetician, that, if every man and woman would work for four hours each day on something useful, that labor would produce sufficient to procure all the necessaries and comforts of life, want and misery would be banished out of the world, and the rest of the twenty-four hours might be leisure and pleasure. What occasions then so much want and misery ? It is the employment of men and women in works, that produce neither the necessaries nor conveniences of life, who, with those who do nothing, consume neces- saries raised by the laborious. To explain this. The first elements of wealth are obtained by labor, from the earth and waters. I have land, and raise corn. With this, if I feed a family that does nothing, my corn will be consumed, and at the end of the year I shall be no richer than I was at the beginning. But if, while I feed them, I employ them, some in spinning, others in making bricks, &c. for building, the value of my corn will be arrested and remain with me, and at the end of the year we may all be better clothed and better lodged. And if, instead of employing a man I feed in making bricks, I employ him in fiddling for me, the corn he eats is gone, and no part of his manufacture remains to augment the wealth and con- venience 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 oca sions. , Look round the world and see the millions employ- ed in doing nothing, or in something that amounts to nothing when the necessaries and conveniences ol question. What is the bulk of commerce, for are in 452 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. 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 labor 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 1 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 super- fluities, 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 hardly brighten a spot big enough to be visible from the moon, unless with Herschel's telescope; so vast are the regions still in wood. It is, however, some comfort to reflect, that, upon the whole, the quantity of industry and prudence among mankind exceeds the quantity of idleness and folly. Hence the increase of good buildings, farms cultivated, and populous cities filled with wealth, all over Europe, which a few ages since were only to be found on the coast 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, ram- bling letter. Almost all the parts of our bodies require some expense. The feet demand shoes ; the legs, POLITICAL ECONOMY. 453 stockings ; the rest of the body, clothing ; and the belly, a good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though ex- ceedingly 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. 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 war- riors ; when old, counsellors ; for all their government is by the counsel or advice of the sages; there is no force, there are no prisons, no officers to compel obedience, or inflict punishment. Hence they generally study oratory, y 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 honorable. Having few artificial wants, they have abundance of * This paper and the two next in order were published in separate pam- phlets in England, in the year 1784; and afterwards, in 1787, they formed a part of our author's papers printed for Dilly. — Editor of Johnson Sf Long- man's Edition. 454 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. leisure for improvement by conversation. Our laborious manner of life, compared with theirs, they esteem slavish and base; and the learning, on which we value ourselves, they regard as frivolous and useless. An instance of this occurred at the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, anno 1 744, 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 that they show it respect by taking time to consider it, as of a matter important. They there- fore deferred their answer till the day following ; when their speaker began, by expressing their deep sense of the kindness of the Virginia government, in making them that offer; "for we know," says he, "that you highly es- teem 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 con- ceptions 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 expe- rience of it ; several of our young people were formerly brought up at the colleges of the northern provinces; they were instructed in all your sciences; but, when they came back to us, they were bad runners, ignorant POLITICAL ECONOMY. 455 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, nor kill an enemy, spoke our lan- guage imperfectly, were therefore neither fit for hunters, warriors, nor 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 Vir- ginia will send us a dozen of their sons, we will take great care of their education, instruct them in all we know, and make men of them." Having frequent occasions to hold public councils, they have acquired great order and decency in conducting them. The old men sit in the foremost ranks, the war- riors in the next, and the women and children in the hindmost. The business of the women is to take exact notice of what passes, imprint it in their memories (for they have no writing), and communicate it to their chil- dren. They are the records of the council, and they preserve the 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 sits down, they leave him five or six minutes to recollect, that, if he has omitted any thing he intended to say, or has any thing to add, he may rise again and deliver it. To interrupt another, even in common conversation, is reckoned highly indecent. How different this is from the conduct of a polite Bri- tish House of Commons, where scarce a day passes without some confusion, that makes the speaker hoarse in calling to order; and how different from the mode of conversation in many polite companies of Europe, where, if you do not deliver your sentence with great rapidity, you are cut off in the middle of it by the 456 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. impatient loquacity of those you converse with and never suffered to finish it ! The politeness of these savages in conversation is indeed carried to excess, since it does not permit them to contradict or deny the truth of what is asserted in their presence. By this means they indeed avoid dis- putes; but then it becomes difficult to know their minds, or what impression you make upon them. The mis- sionaries who have attempted to convert them to Chris- tianity, all complain of this as one of the great difficul- ties of their mission. The Indians hear with patience the truths of the Gospel explained to them, and give their usual tokens of assent and approbation ; you would think they were convinced. No such matter. It is mere civility. A Swedish minister, having assembled the chiefs of the Susquehanna Indians, made a sermon to them, acquainting them with the principal historical facts on which our religion is founded ; such as the fall of our first parents by eating an apple, the coming of Christ to repair the mischief, his miracles and suffering, &c. When he had finished, an Indian orator stood up to thank him. " What you have told us," says he, " is all very good. It is indeed bad to eat apples. It is better to make them all into cider. We are much obliged by your kindness in coming so far, to tell us those things which you have heard from your mothers. In return, I will tell you some of those we have heard from ours. " In the beginning, our fathers had only the flesh of animals to subsist on ; and, if their hunting was unsuc- cessful, they were starving. 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, POLITICAL ECONOMY. 457 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 be- fore ; but which, from that ancient time, have been con- stantly 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 backside had sat on it, they found tobacco." The good missionary, disgusted with this idle tale, said, " What I delivered to you were sacred truths ; but what you tell me is mere fable, fiction, and 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!" 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 opportu- nities of looking at you; but for this purpose we hid ourselves behind bushes, where you are to pass, an never intrude ourselves into your company." 58 M M VOL. II. 458 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Their manner of entering one another's village has likewise its rules. It is reckoned uncivil in travelling strangers to enter a village abruptly, without giving no- tice 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 be- fore, conversation begins, with inquiries who they are, whither bound, what news, &c. ; and it usually ends with offers of service, if the strangers have occasion for guides, or any necessaries for continuing their jour- ney; 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 the following instance. He had been naturalized among the Six Nations, and spoke well the Mohock language. In going through the Indian country, to carry a mes- sage from our governor to the council at Onondaga, he called at the habitation of Canassetego, an old ac- quaintance, who embraced him, spread furs for him to sit on, and 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, Canassetego 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 ; arid POLITICAL ECONOMY. 459 when the discourse began to flag, the Indian, to con- tinue 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 1 What do they do there 1 " " They meet there," says Conrad, " to hear and learn good things" " I do not doubt," says the Indian, " that they tell you so ; they have told me the same ; but I doubt the truth of what they say, and I will tell you my reasons. I went lately to Albany to sell my skins and buy blankets, knives, powder, rum, &,c. You know I used generally to deal with Hans Hanson ; but I was a little inclined this time to try some other merchants. However, I called first upon Hans, and asked him what he would give for beaver. He said he could not give any more than four shillings a pound; < but,' says he, 'I cannot talk on busi- ness now ; this is the day when we meet together to learn good things, and I am going to meeting.' So I thought to myself, < Since I cannot do any business to- day,^ 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, struck 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 might be the subject of their meeting. So, when they came out, I accosted my merchant. ' Well, Hans,' says I &c' ^7. A. Y. grew rich by this means, &c. That these minutes be read once a year at the an- niversary. That all fines due be immediately paid in, and the penal laws for queries and declamations abolished ; only he who is absent above ten times in the year to pay ten shillings towards the anniversary entertainment. That the Secretary, for keeping the minutes, be al- lowed one shilling per night, to be paid out cf the money already in his hands. That, after the queries are begun reading, all dis- course foreign to them shall be deemed impertinent. When any thing from reading an author is men- SUPPLEMENT. 553 tjoned, if it exceed a line, and the Junto require it, he per** shall bring the passage or an abstract of i the next night, if he has it not with him When the books of the library come, every member shall undertake some author, that he may not be with- out observations to communicate. QUERIES. How shall we judge of the goodness of a writing? Or what qualities should a writing have to be good and perfect in its kind? Answer. To be good, it ought to have a tendency •to benefit the reader, by improving his virtue or his knowledge. But, not regarding the intention of the author, the method should be just; that is, it should proceed regularly from things known to things un- known, distinctly and clearly without confusion. The words used should be the most expressive that the language affords, provided that they are the most gen- erally understood. Nothing should be expressed in two words that can be as well expressed in one ; that is, no synonymes should be used, or very rarely, but the whole should be as short as possible, consistent with clearness. The words should be so placed as to be agreeable to the ear in reading; summarily, it should be smooth, clear, and short. For the contrary qualities are displeasing. But, taking the query otherwise, an ill man may write an ill thing well ; that is, having an ill design, he may use the properest style and arguments (consider- ing who are to be readers) to attain his ends. In this sense, that is best wrote, which is best adapted for ob- taining the end of the writer. VOL. II. 70 UU 554 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. Can a man arrive at perfection in this life, as some believe ; or is it impossible, as others believe ? Answer. Perhaps they differ in the meaning of the word perfection. I suppose the perfection of any thing to be only the greatest the nature of the thing is capa- ble of. Different things have different degrees of per- fection, and the same thing at different times. Thus, a horse is more perfect than an oyster, yet the oyster may be a perfect oyster, as well as the horse a perfect horse. And an egg is not so perfect as a chicken, nor a chicken as a hen; for the hen has more strength than the chicken, and the chicken more life than the egg ; yet it may be a perfect egg, chicken, and hen. If they mean a man cannot in this life be so perfect as an angel, it may be true ; for an angel, by being in- corporeal, is allowed some perfections we are at present incapable of, and less liable to some imperfections than we are liable to. If they mean a man is not capable of being as perfect here as he is capable of being in heaven, that may be true likewise. But that a man is not capable of being so perfect here, as he is capable of being here, is not sense ; it is as if I should say, a chicken, in the state of a chicken, is not capable of being so perfect as a chicken is capable of being in that state. In the above sense, there may be a perfect oyster, a perfect horse, a perfect ship ; why not a perfect man ? That is, as perfect as his present nature and circum- stances admit. Question. Wherein consists the happiness of a ra- tional creature ? Jlnswer. In having a sound mind and a healthy body, a sufficiency of the necessaries and convenien- SUPPLEMENT. 555 ces of life, together with the favor of God and the love of mankind. Q. What do you mean by a sound mind? Jl. A faculty of reasoning justly and truly in searching after such truths as relate to my happiness. This faculty is the gift of God, capable of being im- proved by experience and instruction into wisdom. Q. What is wisdom? A. The knowledge of what will be best for us on all occasions, and the best ways of attaining it. Q. Is any man wise at all times and in all things ? Jl. No, but some are more frequently wise than others. Q. What do you mean by the necessaries of life ? A. Having wholesome food and drink wherewith to satisfy hunger and thirst, clothing, and a place of hab- itation fit to secure against the inclemencies of the weather. Q. What do you mean by the conveniences of life? Jl. Such a plenty Whether it is worth a rational man's while to fore- go the pleasure arising from the present luxury of the age, in eating and drinking, and artful cookery, studying to gratify the appetite, for the sake of enjoy- ing a healthy old age, a sound mind, and a sound body, which are the advantages reasonably to be ex- pected from a more simple and temperate diet? Whether those meats and drinks are not the best, that contain nothing in their natural taste, nor have any thing added by art, so pleasing as to induce us to eat or drink when we are not thirsty or hungry, or after 556 FRANKLIN'S WRITINGS. thirst and hunger are satisfied; water, for instance, for drink, and bread or the like for meat? Is there any difference between knowledge and prudence ? If there is any, which of the two is most eligible ? Is it justifiable to put private men to death for the sake of public safety or tranquillity, who have com- mitted no crime? As, in the case of the plague, to stop infection; or, as in the case of the Welshmen here executed? If the sovereign power attempts to deprive a sub- ject of his right, (or, which is the same thing, of what he thinks his right,) is it justifiable in him to resist, if he is able? What general conduct of life is most suitable for men in such circumstances as most of the members of the Junto are? Or, of the many schemes of living which are in our power to pursue, which will be most probably conducive to our happiness ? Which is best, to make a friend of a wise and good man that is poor, or of a rich man that is neither wise nor good? Which of the two is the greatest loss to a country if they both die ? Which of the two is happiest in life? Does it not, in a general way, require great study and intense application for a poor man to become rich and powerful, if he would do it without the forfeiture of his honesty? Does it not require as much pains, study, and appli- cation, to become truly wise and strictly virtuous, as to become rich? SUPPLEMENT. 557 Can a man of common capacity pursue both views with success, at the same time? If not, which of the two is it best for him to make his whole application to ? Whence comes the dew, that stands on the outside of a tankard that has cold water in it in the summer time? Does the importation of servants increase or ad- vance the wealth of our country? Would not an office of insurance for servants be of service, and what methods are proper for the erecting such an office? END OF VOL. II. This book is DUE on the last date UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 3 1158 00534 6514