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diff --git a/40236-8.txt b/40236-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0dc8849..0000000 --- a/40236-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9959 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook, Memoirs of Benjamin Franklin; Written by -Himself, Volume II (of 2), by Benjamin Franklin - - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - - - - -Title: Memoirs of Benjamin Franklin; Written by Himself, Volume II (of 2) - With his Most Interesting Essays, Letters, and Miscellaneous Writings; Familiar, Moral, Political, Economical, and Philosophical, Selected with Care from All His Published Productions, and Comprising Whatever Is Most Entertaining and Valuable to the General Reader - - -Author: Benjamin Franklin - - - -Release Date: July 14, 2012 [eBook #40236] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - - -***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN; -WRITTEN BY HIMSELF, VOLUME II (OF 2)*** - - -E-text prepared by Steven Gibbs, Richard J. Shiffer, and the Distributed -Proofreading volunteers (http://www.pgdp.net) for Project Gutenberg - - - -Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this - file which includes the original illustration. - See 40236-h.htm or 40236-h.zip: - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40236/40236-h/40236-h.htm) - or - (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/40236/40236-h.zip) - - -Transcriber's note: - - Every effort has been made to replicate this text as - faithfully as possible, including obsolete and variant - spellings and other inconsistencies. Text that has been - changed to correct an obvious error is noted at the end - of this ebook. - - - - - -MEMOIRS - -OF - -BENJAMIN FRANKLIN; - -WRITTEN BY HIMSELF. - -WITH HIS - -MOST INTERESTING ESSAYS, LETTERS, AND MISCELLANEOUS -WRITINGS; FAMILIAR, MORAL, POLITICAL, -ECONOMICAL, AND PHILOSOPHICAL. - -SELECTED WITH CARE - -FROM ALL HIS PUBLISHED PRODUCTIONS, AND COMPRISING -WHATEVER IS MOST ENTERTAINING AND VALUABLE -TO THE GENERAL READER. - -IN TWO VOLUMES. - -VOL. II - - - - - - - -New York: -Harper & Brothers, Publishers, -Franklin Square. -1860. - -Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1839, by -Harper & Brothers, -In the Clerk's Office of the Southern District of New-York. - - - - -CONTENTS - -OF - -THE SECOND VOLUME. - - - ESSAYS. - Page - The Way to Wealth; as clearly shown in the practice of - an old Pennsylvania Almanac, entitled, "Poor Richard - Improved" 5 - - On True Happiness 14 - - Public Men 16 - - The Waste of Life 22 - - Self-denial not the Essence of Virtue 25 - - On the Usefulness of the Mathematics 27 - - The Art of procuring Pleasant Dreams 31 - - Advice to a young Tradesman 37 - - Rules of Health 39 - - The Ephemera; an Emblem of Human Life. To Madame - Brillon, of Passy 40 - - The Whistle. To Madame Brillon 42 - - On Luxury, Idleness, and Industry 45 - - On Truth and Falsehood 50 - - Necessary Hints to those that would be Rich 53 - - The Way to make Money plenty in every Man's Pocket 54 - - The Handsome and Deformed Leg 55 - - On Human Vanity 58 - - On Smuggling, and its various Species 62 - - Remarks concerning the Savages of North America 66 - - On Freedom of Speech and the Press 71 - - On the Price of Corn and the Management of the Poor 82 - - Singular Custom among the Americans, entitled Whitewashing 86 - - On the Criminal Laws and the Practice of Privateering 94 - - Letter from Anthony Afterwit 102 - - - LETTERS. - - To Mrs. Abiah Franklin 107 - - To Miss Jane Franklin 108 - - To the same 109 - - To Mr. George Whitefield 110 - - To Mrs. D. Franklin 112 - - To the same 113 - - To Mrs. Jane Mecom 114 - - To the same 115 - - To the same 116 - - To Miss Stevenson 119 - - To Lord Kames 120 - - To the same 121 - - To the same 128 - - To John Alleyne 130 - - To Governor Franklin 132 - - To Dr. Priestley 134 - - To the same 136 - - To Mr. Mather 137 - - To Mr. Strahan 138 - - To Dr. Priestley 138 - - To Mrs. Thompson 139 - - To Mr. Lith 142 - - Answer to a Letter from Brussels 144 - - To Dr. Price 151 - - To Dr. Priestley 152 - - To General Washington 154 - - To M. Court de Gebelin 156 - - To Francis Hopkinson 158 - - To Francis Hopkinson 159 - - To Samuel Huntingdon, President of Congress 160 - - To the Bishop of St. Asaph 162 - - To Miss Alexander 163 - - To Benjamin Vaughan 164 - - To Mrs. Hewson 166 - - To David Hartley 167 - - To Dr. Percival 168 - - To Sir Joseph Banks 169 - - To Robert Morris, Esq. 171 - - To Dr. Mather 172 - - To William Strahan, M.P. 174 - - To George Wheatley 178 - - To David Hartley 181 - - To the Bishop of St. Asaph 181 - - To Mrs. Hewson 184 - - To M. Veillard 185 - - To Mr. Jordain 187 - - To Miss Hubbard 189 - - To George Wheatley 190 - - To B. Vaughan 192 - - To the President of Congress 193 - - To Mrs. Green 196 - - To Dr. Price 197 - - To B. Vaughan 198 - - To Dr. Rush 199 - - To Miss Catharine Louisa Shipley 199 - - To * * * 200 - - Copy of the last Letter written by Dr. Franklin 201 - - - PHILOSOPHICAL SUBJECTS. - - To the Abbé Soulavie.--Theory of the Earth 203 - - To Dr. John Pringle.--On the different Strata of the Earth 207 - - To Mr. Bowdoin.--Queries and Conjectures relating to Magnetism - and the Theory of the Earth 208 - - To M. Dubourg.--On the Nature of Seacoal 211 - - Causes of Earthquakes 212 - - To David Rittenhouse.--New and Curious Theory of Light - and Heat 224 - - Of Lightning; and the Methods now used in America for - the securing Buildings and Persons from its mischievous - Effects 227 - - To Peter Collinson.--Electrical Kite 231 - - Physical and Meteorological Observations, Conjectures, and - Suppositions 232 - - To Dr. Perkins.--Water-spouts and Whirlwinds compared 240 - - To Alexander Small.--On the Northeast Storms in North - America 254 - - To Dr. Lining.--On Cold produced by Evaporation 256 - - To Peter Franklin.--On the Saltness of Seawater 263 - - To Miss Stephenson.--Salt Water rendered fresh by - Distillation.--Method of relieving Thirst by Seawater 264 - - To the same.--Tendency of Rivers to the Sea.--Effects of - the Sun's Rays on Cloths of different Colours 266 - - To the same.--On the Effect of Air on the Barometer, and - the Benefits derived from the Study of Insects 270 - - To Dr. Joseph Priestley.--Effect of Vegetation on Noxious Air 273 - - To Dr. John Pringle.--On the Difference of Navigation in - Shoal and Deep Water 274 - - To Oliver Neale.--On the Art of Swimming 277 - - To Miss Stephenson.--Method of contracting Chimneys.--Modesty - in Disputation 281 - - To M. Dubourg.--Observations on the prevailing Doctrines - of Life and Death 282 - - Lord Brougham's Portrait of Dr. Franklin 285 - - - - -WRITINGS OF FRANKLIN - - * * * * * - -ESSAYS, - -HUMOROUS, MORAL, ECONOMICAL, AND POLITICAL. - - * * * * * - -THE WAY TO WEALTH, - -_As dearly shown in the practice of an old Pennsylvania Almanac, -entitled, "Poor Richard Improved."_ - - 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 _A word to the wise is -enough_, as Poor Richard says." They joined in desiring 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 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, absolutely -shortens life. _Sloth, like rust, consumes faster than labour 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 necessary 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 prodigality_; since, as he elsewhere -tells us, _Lost time is never found again; and what we call time enough, -always proves little enough_. Let us, then, up and be doing, and doing -to the purpose; so by diligence shall we do more with less perplexity. -_Sloth makes all things 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. - -"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 without -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 honour_, 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 workingman'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 luck, and God gives all -things to industry. 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 farther, _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, and your country. -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 diligence and patience the mouse ate in two the cable_; and _Little -strokes fell great oaks_. - -"Methinks I hear some of you say, 'Must a man afford himself no -leisure?' I will tell thee, my friend, what Poor Richard says: _Employ -thy time well, if thou meanest to gain leisure; and, since thou art not -sure of a minute, throw not away an hour_. Leisure is time for doing -something useful; this leisure the diligent man will obtain, but the -lazy man never; for _A life of leisure and a life of laziness are two -things. Many, without labour, would live by their wits only, but they -break for want of stock_; whereas industry gives comfort, 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 would have your -business done, go; if not, send_. And again, - - _He that by the plough would thrive, - Himself must either 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, _Not 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 one that you like, serve yourself. A 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 the want of a -little care about a horseshoe nail._ - -"III. So much for industry, my friends, and attention to one's own -business; but to these we must add frugality, if we would make our -industry more certainly successful. A man may, if he knows not how to -save as he gets, keep his nose all his life to the grindstone, and die -not worth a groat at last. _A fat kitchen makes a lean will_; and - - _Many estates are spent in the getting, - Since women for tea forsook spinning and knitting, - And men for punch forsook hewing and splitting._ - -_If you would be wealthy, 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 times, heavy taxes, and chargeable -families. And farther, _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 remember, -_Many a little makes a mickle_. Beware of little expenses; _A small leak -will sink a great ship_, as Poor Richard says; and again, _Who dainties -love, shall beggars prove_; and moreover, _Fools make feasts, and wise -men eat them_. - -"Here you are all got together at this sale of fineries and knickknacks. -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_. And -again, _At a great pennyworth pause a while_. He means, that perhaps the -cheapness is apparent only, 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 industry 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 -mealtub and never putting 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. Poor Dick farther advises, and says, - - _Fond pride of dress is sure a very curse; - Ere fancy you consult, consult your purse._ - -And again, _Pride is as loud a beggar as Want, and a great deal more -saucy_. When you have bought one fine thing, you must buy ten more, that -your appearance may be all of a piece; but Poor Dick says, _It is -easier to suppress the first desire than to satisfy all that follow it_. -And it is as truly folly for the poor to ape the rich, as 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 contempt. Pride breakfasted with Plenty, -dined with Poverty, and supped with Infamy_. And, after all, of what use -is this pride of appearance, for which so much is risked, so much is -suffered? It cannot promote health 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 without it. But ah! think what -you do when you run in debt; you give to another power over your -liberty. If you cannot pay at the time, you will be ashamed to see your -creditor; you will be in fear when you speak to him; you will make poor, -pitiful, 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 freeborn 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 your self under such tyranny, when you run in -debt for such dress! Your creditor has authority, at his pleasure, to -deprive you of your liberty, by confining you in jail 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; creditors 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 prepared to satisfy it; or, -if you bear your debt in mind, the term, which at first seemed so long, -will, as it lessens, appear extremely short. Time will seem to have -added wings to his heels as well as his shoulders. _Those have a short -Lent who owe money to be paid at Easter_. At present, perhaps, you may -think yourselves 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_. - -"IV. This doctrine, my friends, is reason and wisdom; but, after all, do -not depend too much upon your own industry, and frugality, and prudence, -though excellent things; for they may all be blasted, without the -blessing of Heaven; and, therefore, ask that blessing humbly, and be not -uncharitable to those that at present seem to want it, but comfort and -help them. Remember, Job suffered, and was afterward prosperous. - -"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, -remember this, _They that will not be counselled cannot be helped_; and -farther, 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 immediately practised the contrary, just as -if it had been a common sermon; for the auction opened, and they 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 SAUNDERS. - - * * * * * - -ON TRUE HAPPINESS. - -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 in 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 considered 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 -with 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 the former light. When this governs us, we are regardless 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, as all that is truly -beautiful, can only result from order. - -While there is a conflict between the two principles of passion and -reason, we must be miserable in proportion to the struggle; and when the -victory is gained, 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. Covetousness 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 insatiable desires. - -The passions, by being too much conversant with earthly objects, can -never fix in us a proper composure and acquiescence of mind. Nothing but -an indifference 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. -Virtue is the best guard against the many unavoidable evils incident to -us; nothing better alleviates the weight of the afflictions, 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 circumstance, without which this happiness cannot be tasted -pure and unabated. - -Virtue is the best preservation of health, as it prescribes temperance, -and such a regulation of our passions 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 infinitely 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. - - * * * * * - -PUBLIC MEN - -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 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?' - -"'I have so,' answered Glaucon. - -"'You cannot,' replied Socrates, 'have a more noble design; for if you -can accomplish it so as to become 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 Themistocles. In short, wherever you come, you will have -the respect and admiration of all the world.' - -"These words soothed Glaucon, and won him to give ear to Socrates, who -went on in this manner: 'But it is certain, that if you desire to be -honoured, 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 fortune 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 anything 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 expenses and revenue.' - -"'There is another way to enrich a state,' said Glaucon, 'of which you -take no notice; and that is, by the ruin [spoils] of its enemies.' - -"'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 engage in war so -soon; for the greatness of the undertaking will hinder you from maturely -weighing all the consequences of it in the beginning of your government. -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 re-enforced, and 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 -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 conjectures, 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 land produces, 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 impossible 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 -industry, 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, -who has not strength enought 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 dangerous 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 honour 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 honoured, 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: - -"'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 honour, 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, 'Because you are capable of managing the -affairs of the republic, and nevertheless you avoid doing so, though, in -quality of a citizen, you are _obliged_ to take care of the -commonwealth. Be no longer, then, thus negligent 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.'" - - * * * * * - -THE WASTE OF LIFE. - -Anergus 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 humour. 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 -his 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 -drunken, nor was his nature much inclined to licentiousness. - -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 carcass, 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, 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 -thousands. - -"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 devoured, -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 -ate, and every grain of corn I have devoured, hath filled up its place -in the rank of beings with more propriety and honour than I have done. -Oh 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 his 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 character 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 numbers 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 carcáses, - Then, if their tombstone, 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_. - - * * * * * - -SELF-DENIAL NOT THE ESSENCE OF VIRTUE. - -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 anything he inclines to, -though he knows it will be to his 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? - -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, and 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 inclinations are towards -vice, or else it would still be nonsense. - -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 anything 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 industrious; 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 pacer? - -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 inclinations; 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. - -Mathematics originally signified any kind of discipline 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 assistance of -numbers; for by these the trader computes the value of all sorts of -goods that he dealeth in, does his business with ease and certainty, and -informs himself how matters stand at any time with respect to men, -money, and 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 knowledge 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 geographers 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. - -From hence also is deduced that admirable art of drawing sundials on any -place, howsoever situate, and for any part of the world, to point out -the exact time of the day, the sun's declination, altitude, amplitude, -azimuth, 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 gauger 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 superfices -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, namely, arithmetic and geometry. - -This science is descended from the infancy of the world, the inventors -of which were the first propagators of human kind, as Adam, Noah, -Abraham, Moses, and divers others. - -There has not been any science so much esteemed and honoured as this of -the mathematics, nor with so much industry and vigilance become the care -of great men, and laboured in by the potentates of the world, namely, -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 mathematical. For which reason it is -said the Egyptians, Persians, and Lacedćmonians seldom elected any new -kings but such as had some knowledge in the mathematics; 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 -among 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 mathematics, is no less so. - -The usefulness of some particular parts of the mathematics, in the -common affairs of human life, has rendered 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 required to go along with it, and who have -had some insight into these studies, have very often found advantages -from them sufficient to reward the pains they were at in acquiring them. -And whatever may have been imputed to some other studies, under the -notion of insignificance 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 knowledge to be most -excellent which is conversant among 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 necessary, because, by -the exactness of the method, we get a habit of using our minds to the -best advantage. 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." - - * * * * * - -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 some times painful dreams, it becomes of some -consequence to obtain the one kind and avoid the other, for, whether -real or imaginary, pain is pain and pleasure is pleasure. If we can -sleep without dreaming, it is well that painful dreams are avoided. If, -while we sleep, we can have any pleasing dreams, it is, as the French -say, _autant de gagné_, so much added to the pleasure of life. - -To this end it is, in the first place, necessary to be careful in -preserving health, by due exercise and great temperance; for in sickness -the imagination is disturbed, and disagreeable, sometimes terrible, -ideas are apt to present themselves. Exercise should precede meals, not -immediately follow them; the first promotes, the latter, unless -moderate, obstructs digestion. If, after exercise, we feed sparingly, -the digestion will be easy and good, the body lightsome, the temper -cheerful, and all the animal functions performed agreeably. Sleep, when -it follows, will be natural and undisturbed; while indolence, with full -feeding, occasions nightmares and horrors inexpressible; we fall from -precipices, are assaulted by wild beasts, murderers, and demons, and -experience every variety of distress. Observe, however, that the -quantities of food and exercise are relative things; those who move much -may, and, indeed, ought to, eat more; those who use little exercise -should eat little. In general, mankind, since the improvement of -cookery, eat about twice as much as nature requires. Suppers are not bad -if we have not dined; but restless nights naturally follow hearty -suppers after full dinners. Indeed, as there is a difference in -constitutions, some rest well after these meals; it costs them only a -frightful dream and an apoplexy, after which they sleep till doomsday. -Nothing is more common in the newspapers 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 bedchamber. It has been a great -mistake, the sleeping in rooms exactly closed, and in beds surrounded by -curtains. No outward air that may come in to you is 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 therefore requires a -longer time to spoil a bedchamber-full; but it is done, however, in -proportion, and many putrid disorders hence have their origin. It is -recorded of Methusalem, who, being the longest liver, may be supposed to -have best preserved his health, that he slept always in the open air; -for, when he had lived five hundred years, an angel said to him, "Arise, -Methusalem, and build thee a 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 a house; I -will sleep in the air, as I have been used to do." Physicians, after -having for ages contended that the sick should not be indulged with -fresh air, have at length discovered that it may do them good. It is -therefore to be hoped that they may in time discover likewise that it is -not hurtful to those who are in health, and that we may then be cured of -the _aerophoba_, that at present distresses weak minds, and makes them -choose to be stifled and poisoned rather than leave open the window of a -bedchamber or put down the glass of a coach. - -Confined air, when saturated with perspirable matter,[1] will not -receive more; and that matter must remain in our bodies and occasion -diseases; but it gives some previous notice of its being about to be -hurtful, by producing certain uneasiness, slight indeed at first, such -as with regard to the lungs is a trifling sensation, and to the pores of -the skin a kind of restlessness, which is difficult to describe, and few -that feel it know the cause of it. But we may recollect that sometimes, -on waking in the night, we have, if warmly covered, found it difficult -to get asleep again. We turn often, without finding repose in any -position. This fidgetiness (to use a vulgar expression for want of a -better) is occasioned wholly by an uneasiness in the skin, owing to the -retention of the perspirable matter, the bedclothes having received -their quantity, and, being saturated, refusing to take any more. To -become sensible of this by an experiment, let a person keep his position -in the bed, but throw off the bedclothes, and suffer fresh air to -approach the part uncovered of his body; he will then feel that part -suddenly refreshed; for the air will immediately relieve the skin, by -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 portion of that vapour, receives therewith a -degree of heat that rarefies and renders it lighter, when it will be -pushed away, with its burden, by cooler and, therefore, heavier fresh -air, which for a moment supplies its place, and then, being likewise -changed and warmed, gives way to a succeeding quantity. This is the -order of nature, to prevent animals being infected by their own -perspiration. He will now be sensible of the difference between the part -exposed to the air and that which, remaining sunk in the bed, denies the -air access; for this part now manifests its uneasiness more distinctly -by the comparison, and the seat of the uneasiness is more plainly -perceived than when the whole surface of the body was affected by it. - - [1] What physicians call perspirable matter is that vapour 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. - -Here, then, is one great and general cause of unpleasing dreams. For -when the body is uneasy, the mind will be disturbed by it, and -disagreeable ideas of various kinds will in sleep be the natural -consequences. The remedies, 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 bedclothes -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 bedclothes, which will suffer the -perspirable matter more easily to pass through them, we are less -incommoded, such being longer tolerable. - -3. When you are awakened by this uneasiness, and find you cannot easily -sleep again, get out of bed, beat up and turn your pillow, shake the -bedclothes well, with at least twenty shakes, then throw the bed open -and leave it to cool; in the mean while, continuing undressed, 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 an -opera. If you happen to be too indolent to get out of bed, you may, -instead of it, lift up your bedclothes with one arm and leg, so as to -draw in a good deal of fresh air, and, by letting them fall, force it -out again. This, repeated twenty times, will so clear them of the -perspirable matter they have imbibed, as to permit your sleeping well -for some time afterward. 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 procures sleep. A -very large bed, that will admit a removal so distant from the first -situation as to be cool and sweet, may in a degree answer the same end. - -One or two observations more will conclude this little piece. Care must -be taken, when you lie down, to dispose your pillow so as to suit your -manner of placing your head, and to be perfectly easy; then place your -limbs so as not to bear inconveniently hard upon one another, as, for -instance, the joints of your ancles; for, though a bad position may at -first give but little pain and be hardly noticed, yet a 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. - - * * * * * - -ADVICE TO A YOUNG TRADESMAN. - -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 labour, and goes abroad or sits idle one half of that day, though he -spends but sixpence during his diversion or idleness, ought not to -reckon _that_ the only 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 threepence, and so on till -it becomes a hundred pounds. The more there is of it, the more it -produces every turning, so that the profits rise quicker and quicker. He -that kills a breeding-sow, destroys all her offspring to the thousandth -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 a hundred pounds. So much in stock, briskly turned by an -industrious man, produces great advantage. - -Remember this saying, _The good paymaster is lord of another man's -purse._ He that is known to pay punctually and exactly to the time he -promises, may at any time, and on any occasion, raise all the money his -friends can spare. This is sometimes of great use. After industry and -frugality, nothing contributes more to the raising of a young man in the -world than punctuality and justice in all his dealings; therefore never -keep borrowed money an hour beyond the time you promised, lest a -disappointment shut up your friend's purse for ever. - -The most trifling actions that affect a man's credit are to be regarded. -The sound of your hammer at five in the morning or nine at night, heard -by a creditor, makes him easy six months longer; but if he sees you at a -billiard-table, or hears your voice at a tavern when you should be at -work, he sends for his money the next day; demands it, before he can -receive it, in a lump. - -It shows, besides, that you are mindful of what you owe; it makes you -appear a careful as well as an honest man, and that still increases your -credit. - -Beware of thinking all your own that you possess, and of living -accordingly. It is a mistake that many people who have credit fall into. -To prevent this, keep an exact 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 expenses mount up to large sums, and will -discern what might have been, and may, for the future, be saved, without -occasioning any great inconvenience. - -In short, the way to wealth, if you desire it, is as plain as the way to -market. It depends chiefly on two words, _industry_ and _frugality_; -that is, waste neither _time_ nor _money_, but make the best use of -both. Without industry and frugality nothing will do, and with them -everything. He that gets all he can honestly, and saves all he gets -(necessary expenses excepted), will certainly become _rich_, if that -Being who governs the world, to whom all should look for a blessing on -their honest endeavours, doth not, in his wise providence, otherwise -determine. - - AN OLD TRADESMAN. - - * * * * * - -RULES OF HEALTH. - -Eat and drink such an exact quantity as the constitution 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 being not so good. - -The exact quantity and quality being found out, is to be kept to -constantly. - -Excess in all other things whatever, as well 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 sufficient for a choleric. - -The measure of food ought to be (as much as possibly 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 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, labour in the first -place to bring thy appetite to reason. - - * * * * * - -THE EPHEMERA; AN EMBLEM OF 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 successive generations, we were told, were -bred and expired within the day. I happened to see a living company of -them on a leaf, who appeared to be engaged in conversation. You know I -understand all the inferior animal tongues. My too great application to -the study of them is the best excuse I can give for the little progress -I have made in your charming language. I listened, through curiosity, to -the discourse of these little creatures; but as they, in their 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 government, 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 gray-headed one, who was single on another leaf, and -talking to himself. Being amused with his soliloquy, I put it down in -writing, in hopes it will likewise amuse her to whom I am so much -indebted for the most pleasing of all amusements, her delicious company -and heavenly harmony. - -"It was," said he, "the opinion of learned philosophers of our race, who -lived and flourished long before my time, that this vast world, the -Moulin Joy, could not itself subsist more than eighteen hours; and I -think there was some foundation for that opinion, since, by the apparent -motion of the great luminary that gives life to all nature, and which in -my time has evidently declined considerably towards the ocean at the end -of our earth, it must then finish its course, be extinguished in the -waters that surround us, and leave the world in cold and darkness, -necessarily producing universal death and destruction. I have lived -seven of those hours, a great age, being no less than four hundred 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 -children 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 labour 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 -inhabitants of this bush, or my philosophical studies for the benefit of -our race in general! for, in politics, what can laws do without morals? -Our present race of ephemerć will in a course of minutes become corrupt -like those of other and older bushes, and, consequently, as wretched. -And in philosophy how small our progress! Alas! art is long and life is -short! My friends would comfort me with the idea of a name they say I -shall leave behind me; and they tell me I have lived long enough to -nature and to glory. But what will 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 in meaning well, the sensible -conversation of a few good lady ephemerć, and now and then a kind smile -and a tune from the ever amiable _Brillante_. - - * * * * * - -THE WHISTLE. - -TO MADAME BRILLON. - - Passy, November 10, 1779. - -* * * * * 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? You love stories, and will excuse my telling one of -myself. - -When I was a child of seven years old, my friends, on a holyday, 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 of 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 afterward of use to me, the impression continuing on -my mind; so that often, when I was tempted to buy some unnecessary -thing, I said to myself, _Don't give too much for the whistle_; and I -saved my money. - -As I grew up, came into the world, and observed the actions of men, I -thought I met with many, very many, who _gave too much for the whistle_. - -When I saw one too ambitious of court favour, sacrificing his time in -attendance on levees, his repose, his liberty, his virtue, and perhaps -his friends, to attain it, I have said to myself, _This man gives too -much for his whistle._ - -When I saw another fond of popularity, constantly employing himself in -political bustles, neglecting his own affairs, and ruining them by that -neglect, _He pays, indeed_, said I, _too much for his whistle._ - -If I knew a miser, who gave up every kind of comfortable living, all -the pleasure of doing good to others, all the esteem of his -fellow-citizens, and the joys of benevolent friendship, for the sake of -accumulating wealth, _Poor man_, 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 days in prison, _Alas!_ 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, _What 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 estimates they have made of the value of -things, and by their _giving too much for their whistles_. - -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. - - * * * * * - -ON LUXURY, IDLENESS, AND INDUSTRY.[2] - - [2] From a letter to Mr. Benjamin Vaughan, dated at Passy, July - 26th, 1784. - -It is wonderful how preposterously the affairs of this world are -managed. Naturally one would imagine that the interest of a few -individuals should give way to general interest; but individuals manage -their affairs with so much more application, industry, and address than -the public do theirs, that general interest most commonly gives way to -particular. We assemble parliaments and councils to have the benefit of -their collected wisdom; but we necessarily have, at the same time, the -inconvenience of their collected passions, prejudices, and private -interests. By the help of these, artful men overpower their wisdom and -dupe its possessors: and if we may judge by the acts, _arręts_, 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 expense, and then let us consider -whether laws to prevent 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 labour and -industry! May not luxury, therefore, produce more than it consumes, if -without such a spur people would be, as they are naturally enough -inclined to be, lazy and indolent? To this purpose I remember a -circumstance. The skipper of a shallop, employed between Cape May and -Philadelphia, had done us some small service, for which he refused to be -paid. My wife, understanding that he had a daughter, sent her a -new-fashioned cap. Three years after, this skipper being at my house -with an old farmer of Cape May, his passenger, he mentioned the cap, and -how much his daughter had been pleased with it. "But," said he, "it -proved a dear cap to our congregation." "How so?" "When my daughter -appeared with it at meeting, it was so much admired that all the girls -resolved to get such caps from Philadelphia; and my wife and I computed -that the whole could not have cost less than a hundred pounds." "True," -said the farmer, "but you do not tell all the story. I think the cap -was, nevertheless, an advantage to us, for it was the first thing that -put our girls upon knitting worsted mittens for sale at Philadelphia, -that they might have wherewithal to buy caps and ribands there; and you -know that that industry has continued, and is likely to continue, and -increase to a much greater value, and answer better purposes." Upon the -whole, I was more reconciled to this little piece of luxury, since not -only the girls were made happier by having fine caps, but the -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, who -knows better what to do with it. It is, therefore, not lost. A vain, -silly fellow builds a fine house, furnishes it richly, lives in it -expensively, and in a few years ruins himself; but the masons, -carpenters, smiths, and other honest tradesmen have been by his employ -assisted in maintaining and raising their families; the farmer has been -paid for his labour, and encouraged, and the estate is now in better -hands. In some cases, indeed, certain modes of luxury may be a public -evil, in the 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 possession of the enemy did not necessarily draw on the -subjection of the country, which bravely continued to maintain its -freedom and independence notwithstanding. - -It has been computed by some political arithmetician, that if every man -and woman would work for four hours every day on something useful, that -labour would produce sufficient to procure all the necessaries 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 -necessaries raised by the laborious. To explain this. - -The first elements of wealth are obtained by labour, from the earth and -waters. I have land and raise 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 convenience of the family; -I shall, therefore, be the poorer for this fiddling man, unless the rest -of my family work more or eat less, to make up the deficiency he -occasions. - -Look round the world and see the millions employed in doing nothing, or -in something that amounts to nothing, when the necessaries and -conveniences of life are in question. What is the bulk of commerce, for -which we fight and destroy each other, but the toil of millions for -superfluities, to the great hazard and loss of many lives by the -constant dangers of the sea? How much labour is spent in building and -fitting great ships to go to China and Arabia for tea and coffee, to the -West Indies for sugar, to America for tobacco? These things can not be -called the necessaries of life, for our ancestors lived very comfortably -without them. - -A question may be asked. Could all these people, now employed in -raising, making, or carrying superfluities, be subsisted by raising -necessaries? I think they might. The world is large, and a great part of -it still uncultivated. Many hundred millions of acres in Asia, Africa, -and America are still in a forest, and a great deal even in Europe. On a -hundred acres of this forest a man might become a substantial farmer; -and a hundred thousand men, employed in clearing each his hundred acres, -would 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, rambling letter. Almost -all the parts of our bodies require some expense. The feet demand shoes; -the legs stockings; and the rest of the body clothing; and the belly a -good deal of victuals. Our eyes, though exceedingly useful, ask, when -reasonable, only the cheap assistance of spectacles, which could not -much impair our finances. But the eyes of other people are the eyes that -ruin us. If all but myself were blind, I should want neither fine -clothes, fine houses, nor fine furniture. - - * * * * * - -ON TRUTH AND FALSEHOOD. - -Veritas luce clarior.[3] - - [3] Truth is brighter than light. - -A friend of mine was the other day cheapening some trifles at a -shopkeeper's, and after a few words they agreed on a price. At the tying -up of the parcels he had purchased, the mistress of the shop told him -that people were growing very hard, for she actually lost by everything -she sold. How, then, is it possible, said my friend, that you can keep -on your business? Indeed, sir, answered she, I must of necessity shut my -doors, had I not a very great trade. The reason, said my friend (with a -sneer), is admirable. - -There are a great many retailers who falsely imagine that being -_historical_ (the modern phrase for lying) is much for their advantage; -and some of them have a saying, _that it is a pity lying is a sin, it is -so useful in trade_; though if they would examine into the reason why a -number of shopkeepers raise considerable estates, while others who have -set out with better fortunes have become bankrupts, they would find that -the former made up with truth, diligence, and probity, what they were -deficient of in stock; while the latter have been found guilty of -imposing on such customers as they found had no skill in the quality of -their goods. - -The former character raises a credit which supplies the want of fortune, -and their fair dealing brings them customers; whereas none will return -to buy of him by whom he has been once imposed upon. If people in trade -would judge rightly, we might buy blindfolded, and they would save, both -to themselves and customers, the unpleasantness of _haggling_. - -Though there are numbers of shopkeepers who scorn the mean vice of -lying, and whose word may very safely be relied on, yet there are too -many who will endeavour, and backing their falsities with asseverations, -pawn their salvation to raise their prices. - -As example works more than precept, and my sole view being the good and -interest of my countrymen, whom I could wish to see without any vice or -folly, I shall offer an example of the veneration bestowed on truth and -abhorrence of falsehood among the ancients. - -Augustus, triumphing over Mark Antony and Cleopatra, among other -captives who accompanied them, brought to Rome a priest of about sixty -years old; the senate being informed that this man had never been -detected in a falsehood, and was believed never to have told a lie, not -only restored him to liberty, but made him a high priest, and caused a -statue to be erected to his honour. The priest thus honoured was an -Egyptian, and an enemy to Rome, but his virtue removed all obstacles. - -Pamphilius was a Roman citizen, whose body upon his death was forbidden -sepulture, his estate was confiscated, his house razed, and his wife and -children banished the Roman territories, wholly for his having been a -notorious and inveterate liar. - -Could there be greater demonstrations of respect for truth than these of -the Romans, who elevated an enemy to the greatest honours, and exposed -the family of a citizen to the greatest contumely? - -There can be no excuse for lying, neither is there anything equally -despicable and dangerous as a liar, no man being safe who associates -with him; for _he who will lie will swear to it_, says the proverb; and -such a one may endanger my life, turn my family out of doors, and ruin -my reputation, whenever he shall find it his interest; and if a man will -lie and swear to it in his shop to obtain a trifle, why should we doubt -his doing so when he may hope to make a fortune by his perjury? The -crime is in itself so mean, that to call a man a liar is esteemed -everywhere an affront not to be forgiven. - -If any have lenity enough to allow the dealers an excuse for this bad -practice, I believe they will allow none for the gentleman who is -addicted to this vice; and must look upon him with contempt. That the -world does so, is visible by the derision with which his name is treated -whenever it is mentioned. - -The philosopher Epimenides gave the Rhodians this description of Truth. -She is the companion of the gods, the joy of heaven, the light of the -earth, the pedestal of justice, and the basis of good policy. - -Eschines told the same people, that truth was a virtue without which -force was enfeebled, justice corrupted; humility became dissimulation, -patience intolerable, chastity a dissembler, liberty lost, and pity -superfluous. - -Pharmanes the philosopher told the Romans that truth was the centre on -which all things rested: a chart to sail by, a remedy for all evils, and -a light to the whole world. - -Anaxarchus, speaking of truth, said it was health incapable of sickness, -life not subject to death, an elixir that healeth all, a sun not to be -obscured, a moon without eclipse, an herb which never withereth, a gate -that is never closed, and a path which never fatigues the traveller. - -But if we are blind to the beauties of truth, it is astonishing that we -should not open our eyes to the inconvenience of falsity. A man given to -romance must be always on his guard, for fear of contradicting and -exposing himself to derision; for the most _historical_ would avoid -the odious character, though it is impossible, with the utmost -circumspection, to travel long on this route without detection, and -shame and confusion follow. Whereas he who is a votary of truth never -hesitates for an answer, has never to rack his invention to make the -sequel quadrate with the beginning of his story, nor obliged to burden -his memory with minute circumstances, since truth speaks easily what it -recollects, and repeats openly and frequently without varying facts, -which liars cannot always do, even though gifted with a good memory. - - * * * * * - -NECESSARY HINTS TO THOSE THAT WOULD BE RICH. - -Written Anno 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. - -He that wastes idly a groat's worth of his time per day, one day with -another, wastes the privilege of using one hundred pounds each day. - -He that idly loses five shillings' worth of time, loses five shillings, -and might as prudently throw five shillings into the sea. - -He that loses five shillings, not only loses that sum, but all the -advantage that might be made by turning it in dealing, which, by the -time that a young man becomes old, will amount to a considerable sum of -money. - -Again: he that sells upon credit, asks a price for what he sells -equivalent to the principal and interest of his money for the time he -is to be kept out of it; therefore, he that buys upon credit pays -interest for what he buys, and he that pays ready money might let that -money out to use: so that he that possesses anything he 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 twopence clear, - A pin a day's a groat a year. - - * * * * * - -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 -re-enforce their pockets. I will acquaint them with the true secret of -money-catching, the certain way to fill empty purses, and how to keep -them always full. Two simple rules, well observed, will do the business. - -First, let honesty and industry be thy constant companions; and, - -Secondly, spend one penny less than thy clear gains. - -Then shall thy hidebound pocket soon begin to thrive, and will never -again cry with the empty bellyache: neither will creditors insult thee, -nor want oppress, nor hunger bite, nor nakedness freeze thee. The whole -hemisphere will shine brighter, and pleasure spring up in every corner -of thy heart. Now, therefore, embrace these rules and be happy. Banish -the bleak winds of sorrow from thy mind and live independent. Then shalt -thou be a man and not hide thy face at the approach of the rich nor -suffer the pain of feeling little when the sons of fortune walk at thy -right hand: for independence, 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 for rest. -Let honesty be as the breath of thy soul, and never forget to have a -penny when all thy expenses are enumerated and paid: then shalt thou -reach the point of happiness, and independence shall be thy shield and -buckler, thy helmet and crown; then shall thy soul walk upright, nor -stoop to the silken wretch because he hath riches, nor pocket an abuse -because the hand which offers it wears a ring set with diamonds. - - * * * * * - -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 government, they may find good and bad laws, and good and bad -administration of those laws; in whatever poem or work of genius, they -may see faults and beauties; in almost every face and every person, they -may discover fine features and defects, good and bad qualities. - -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 the more to be -pitied. But as the disposition to criticise and to be disgusted is, -perhaps, taken up originally by imitation, and is, unawares, grown into -a habit, which, though at present strong, may nevertheless be cured; -when those who have it are convinced of its bad effects on their -felicity, I hope this little admonition may be of service to them, and -put them on changing a habit which, though in the exercise it is chiefly -an act of imagination, yet has serious consequences in life, as it -brings on real griefs and misfortunes. For, as many are offended by, and -nobody loves this sort of people, no one shows them more than the most -common civility and respect, and scarcely that; and this frequently puts -them out of humour, and draws them into disputes and contentions. If -they aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or fortune, nobody wishes -them success, or will stir a step or speak a word to favour their -pretensions. If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one will -defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate their misconduct, and -render them completely odious. If these people will not change this bad -habit, and condescend to be pleased with what is pleasing, without -fretting themselves and others about the contraries, it is good for -others to avoid an acquaintance with them, which is always disagreeable, -and sometimes very inconvenient, especially when one finds one's self -entangled in their quarrels. - -An old philosophical friend of mine was grown, from experience, very -cautious in this particular, and carefully avoided any intimacy with -such people. He had, like other philosophers, a thermometer to show him -the heat of the weather, and a barometer to mark when it was likely to -prove good or bad; but there being no instrument invented to discover, -at first sight, this unpleasing disposition in a person, he for that -purpose made use of his legs; one of which was remarkably handsome, the -other, by some accident, crooked and deformed. If a stranger, at the -first interview, regarded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, he -doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no notice of the handsome leg, -that was sufficient to determine my philosopher to have no farther -acquaintance with him. Everybody has not this two-legged instrument; but -every one, with a little attention, may observe signs of that carping, -fault-finding disposition, and take the same resolution of avoiding the -acquaintance of those infected with it. I therefore advise those -critical, querulous, discontented, unhappy people, that, if they wish to -be respected and beloved by others and happy in themselves, they should -_leave off looking at the ugly leg_. - - * * * * * - -ON HUMAN VANITY. - -Mr. Franklin, Meeting with the following curious little piece the other -day, I send it to you to republish, as it is now in very few hands. -There is something so elegant in the imagination, conveyed in so -delicate a style, and accompanied with a moral so just and elevated, -that it must yield great pleasure and instruction to every mind of real -taste and virtue. - -_Cicero_, in the first of his Tusculan questions, finely exposes the -vain judgment we are apt to form of human life compared with eternity. -In illustrating this argument, he quotes a passage of natural history -from Aristotle, concerning a species of insects on the banks of the -river Hypanis, that never outlive the day in which they are born. - -To pursue the thought of this elegant writer, let us suppose one of the -most robust of these _Hypanians_, so famed in history, was in a manner -coeval with time itself; that he began to exist at break of day, and -that, from the uncommon strength of his constitution, he has been able -to show himself active in life, through the numberless minutes of ten or -twelve hours. Through so long a series of seconds, he must have acquired -vast wisdom in his way, from observation and experience. - -He looks upon his fellow-creatures who died about noon to be happily -delivered from the many inconveniences of old age; and can, perhaps, -recount to his great grandson a surprising tradition of actions before -any records of their nation were extant. The young swarm of Hypanians, -who may be advanced one hour in life, approach his person with respect, -and listen to his improving discourse. Everything he says will seem -wonderful to their short lived generation. The compass of a day will be -esteemed the whole duration of time; and the first dawn of light will, -in their chronology, be styled the great era of their creation. - -Let us now suppose this venerable insect, this _Nestor_ of _Hypania_, -should, a little before his death, and about sunset, send for all his -descendants, his friends and his acquaintances, out of the desire he may -have to impart his last thoughts to them, and to admonish them with his -departing breath. They meet, perhaps, under the spacious shelter of a -mushroom, and the dying sage addresses himself to them after the -following manner: - -"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 has become a burden 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 and 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 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 -immense 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 vigour, 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 forever! 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 long -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." - -Thus far this agreeable unknown writer--too agreeable, we may hope, to -remain always concealed. The fine allusion to the character of _Julius -Cćsar_, whose words he has put into the mouth of this illustrious son of -_Hypanis_, is perfectly just and beautiful, and aptly points out the -moral of this inimitable piece, the design of which would have been -quite perverted, had a virtuous character, a _Cato_ or a _Cicero_, been -made choice of to have been turned into ridicule. Had this _life of a -day_ been represented as employed in the exercise of virtue, it would -have an equal dignity with a life of any limited duration, and, -according to the exalted sentiments of Tully, would have been preferable -to an immortality filled with all the pleasures of sense, if void of -those of a higher kind: but as the views of this vainglorious insect -were confined within the narrow circle of his own existence, as he only -boasts the magnificent cells he has built and the length of happiness he -has enjoyed, he is the proper emblem of all such insects of the human -race, whose ambition does not extend beyond the like narrow limits; and -notwithstanding the splendour they appear in at present, they will no -more deserve the regard of posterity than the butterflies of the last -spring. In vain has history been taken up in describing the numerous -swarms of this mischievous species which has infested the earth in the -successive ages: now it is worth the inquiry of the virtuous, whether -the _Rhine_ or the _Adige_ may not, perhaps, swarm with them at present, -as much as the banks of the _Hypanis_; or whether that silver rivulet, -the _Thames_, may not show a specious molehill, covered with inhabitants -of the like dignity and importance. The busy race of beings attached to -these fleeting enjoyments are indeed all of them engaged in the pursuit -of happiness, and it is owing to their imperfect notions of it that they -stop so far short in their pursuit. The present prospect of pleasure -seems to bound their views, and the more distant scenes of happiness, -when what they now propose shall be attained, do not strike their -imagination. It is a great stupidity or thoughtlessness not to perceive -that the happiness of rational creatures is inseparably connected with -immortality. Creatures only endowed with sensation may in a low sense be -reputed happy, so long as their sensations are pleasing; and if these -pleasing sensations are commensurate with the time of their existence, -this measure of happiness is complete. But such beings as are endowed -with _thought_ and _reflection_ cannot be made happy by any limited term -of happiness, how great soever its duration may be. The more exquisite -and more valuable their enjoyments are, the more painful must be the -thought that they are to have an end; and this pain of expectation must -be continually increasing, the nearer the end approaches. And if these -beings are themselves immortal, and yet insecure of the continuance of -their happiness, the case is far worse, since an eternal void of -delight, if not to say a state of misery, must succeed. It would be here -of no moment, whether the time of their happiness were measured by -_days_ or _hours_, by _months_ or _years_, or by _periods_ of the most -immeasurable length: these swiftly-flowing streams bear no proportion to -that ocean of infinity where they must finish their course. The longest -duration of finite happiness avails nothing when it is past: nor can the -memory of it have any other effect than to renew a perpetual pining -after pleasures never to return; and since virtue is the only pledge and -security of a happy immortality, the folly of sacrificing it to any -temporal advantage, how important soever they may appear, must be -infinitely great, and cannot but leave behind it an eternal regret. - - * * * * * - -ON SMUGGLING, AND ITS VARIOUS SPECIES. - -Sir,--There are many people that would be thought, and even think -themselves, _honest_ men, who fail nevertheless in particular points of -honesty; deviating from that character sometimes by the prevalence of -mode or custom, and sometimes through mere inattention, so that their -_honesty_ is partial only, and not _general_ or universal. Thus one who -would scorn to overreach 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 dishonesty into which otherwise good -people more easily and frequently fall, than that of defrauding -government of its revenues by smuggling when they have an opportunity, -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 advantageous on this -account, that, being on the seacoast 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) 20, 30, and, -in some articles, 50 _per cent._ cheaper than they could be had in the -more interior 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 ashamed 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, makes it necessary 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 constitution of this -country, have a privilege few other countries enjoy, that of choosing -the third branch of the legislature, 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 everything 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? Can he -possibly preserve a right to that character, if by fraud, stratagem, or -contrivance, 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 scot-free? If a -man who practised this would, when detected, be deemed and called a -scoundrel, what ought he to be called who can enjoy all the inestimable -benefits 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 honest and, perhaps, much poorer neighbours? He will, -perhaps, be ready to tell me that he does not wrong his neighbours; 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 purpose, if, through -smuggling, that duty falls short of raising 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 halfpenny 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, low, rascally pickpockets must -those be that can pick pockets for halfpence 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 robbery, 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 Scripture we -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 advantages to themselves? Is any lady -ashamed to request of a gentleman of her acquaintance, that, when he -returns from abroad, he would smuggle her home a piece of silk or lace -from France or Flanders? Is any gentleman ashamed to undertake and -execute the commission? Not in the least. They will talk of it freely, -even before others whose pockets they are thus contriving to pick by -this piece of knavery. - -Among other branches of the revenue, that of the post office is, by a -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 payment 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 -superscription themselves. And yet such is our insensibility to justice -in this particular, that nothing is more common than to see, even in a -reputable company, a _very honest_ gentleman or lady declare his or her -intention to cheat the nation of threepence by a frank, and, without -blushing, 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 money 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 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? - - * * * * * - -REMARKS CONCERNING THE SAVAGES OF NORTH AMERICA. - -Savages we call them, because their manners differ from ours, which we -think the perfection of civility; they think the same of theirs. - -Perhaps, if we could examine the manners of different nations with -impartiality, we should find no people so rude as to be without any -rules of politeness, nor any so polite as not to have some remains of -rudeness. - -The Indian men, when young, are hunters and warriors; when old, -counsellors; for all their government is by the council 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, the -best speaker having the most influence. The Indian women till the -ground, dress the food, nurse and bring up the children, and preserve -and hand down to posterity the memory of public transactions. These -employments of men and women are accounted natural and honourable. -Having few artificial wants, they have abundance of leisure for -improvement by conversation. Our laborious manner of life, compared with -theirs, they esteem slavish and base; and the learning on which we value -ourselves, they regard as frivolous and useless. An instance of this -occurred at the treaty of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, anno 1744, between -the government of Virginia and the Six Nations. After the principal -business was settled, the commissioners from Virginia acquainted the -Indians, by a speech, that there was at Williamsburgh 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 therefore deferred their answer till the day -following, when their speaker began by expressing their deep sense of -the kindness of the Virginia government in making them that offer; "for -we know," says he, "that you highly esteem the kind of learning taught -in those colleges, and that the maintenance of our young men, while with -you, would be very expensive to you. We are convinced, therefore, that -you mean to do us good by your proposal; and we thank you heartily. But -you, who are wise, must know that different nations have different -conceptions of things; and you will therefore not take it amiss if our -ideas of this kind of education happen not to be the same with yours. We -have had some experience of it: several of our young people were -formerly brought up at the colleges of the northern provinces; they were -instructed in all your sciences; but when they came back to us, they -were bad runners, ignorant of every means of living in the woods, unable -to bear either cold or hunger, knew neither how to build a cabin, take a -deer, nor kill an enemy, spoke our language 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 Virginia will send us a dozen of their sons, -we will take great care of their education, instruct them in all we -know, and make _men_ of them." - -Having frequent occasions to hold public councils, they have acquired -great order and decency in conducting them. The old men sit in the -foremost ranks, the warriors in the next, and the women and children in -the hindmost. The business of the women is to take exact notice of what -passes, imprint it in their memories, for they have no writing, and -communicate it to their children. They are the records of the council, -and they preserve 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 anything he intended to -say, or has anything to add, he may rise again and deliver it. To -interrupt another, even in common conversation, is reckoned highly -indecent. How different this is from the conduct of a polite British -House 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 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 -disputes, but then it becomes difficult to know their minds, or what -impression you make upon them. The missionaries who have attempted to -convert them to Christianity all complain of this as one of the great -difficulties of their mission. The Indians hear with patience the truths -of the gospel explained to them, and give their usual tokens of assent -and approbation: you would think they were convinced. No such matter. It -is mere civility. - -A Swedish minister, having assembled the chiefs of the 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 sufferings, &c. When he had finished, an -Indian orator stood up to thank him. "What you have told us," says he, -"is all very good. 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 unsuccessful, 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 which you see yonder among the Blue Mountains. They -said to each other, it is a spirit that perhaps has smelt our broiling -venison, and wishes to eat of it: let us offer some to her. They -presented her with the tongue: she was pleased with the taste of it, and -said, Your kindness shall be rewarded; come to this place after thirteen -moons, and you shall find something that will be of great benefit in -nourishing you and your children to the latest generations. They did so, -and, to their surprise, found plants they had never seen before, but -which, from that ancient time, have been constantly cultivated among us, -to our great advantage. Where her right hand had touched the ground, -they found maize; where her left hand had touched it, they found -kidney-beans; and where she 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 around -them, gaze upon them, and incommode them where they desire to be -private; this they esteem great rudeness, and the effect of the want of -instruction in the rules of civility and good manners. "We have," say -they "as much curiosity as you; and when you come into our towns, we -wish for opportunities of looking at you; but for this purpose, we hide -ourselves behind bushes, where you are to pass, and never intrude -ourselves into your company." - -Their manner of entering one another's villages has likewise its rules. -It is reckoned uncivil in travelling strangers to enter a village -abruptly, without giving notice of their approach. Therefore, as soon as -they arrive within hearing, they stop and halloo, remaining there till -invited to enter. Two old men usually come out to them and lead them in. -There is in every village a vacant dwelling called the strangers' house. -Here they are placed, while the old men go round from hut to hut, -acquainting the inhabitants that strangers are arrived, who are probably -hungry and weary; and every one sends them what he can spare of -victuals, and skins to repose on. When the strangers are refreshed, -pipes and tobacco are brought, and then, but not before, conversation -begins, with 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 journey; and nothing -is exacted for the entertainment. - - * * * * * - -ON FREEDOM OF SPEECH AND THE PRESS. - -Freedom of speech is a principal pillar of a free government: when this -support is taken away, the constitution of a free society is dissolved, -and tyranny is erected on its ruins. Republics and limited monarchies -derive their strength and vigour from a popular examination into the -actions of the magistrates; this privilege, in all ages, has been, and -always will be, abused. The best of men could not escape the censure and -envy of the times they lived in. Yet this evil is not so great as it may -appear at first sight. A magistrate who sincerely aims at the good of -society will always have the inclinations of a great majority on his -side, and an impartial posterity will not fail to render him justice. - -Those abuses of the freedom of speech are the exercises of liberty. They -ought to be repressed; but to whom dare we commit the care of doing it? -An evil magistrate, intrusted with power to _punish for words_, would be -armed with a weapon the most destructive and terrible. Under pretence of -pruning off the exuberant branches, he would be apt to destroy the tree. - -It is certain that he who robs another of his moral reputation, more -richly merits a gibbet than if he had plundered him of his purse on the -highway. _Augustus Cćsar_, under the specious pretext of preserving the -character of the Romans from defamation, introduced the law whereby -libelling was involved in the penalties of treason against the state. -This law established his tyranny; and for one mischief which it -prevented, ten thousand evils, horrible and afflicting, sprung up in its -place. Thenceforward every person's life and fortune depended on the -vile breath of informers. The construction of words being arbitrary, and -left to the decision of the judges, no man could write or open his mouth -without being in danger of forfeiting his head. - -One was put to death for inserting in his history the praises of Brutus. -Another for styling Cassius the last of the Romans. Caligula valued -himself for being a notable dancer; and to deny that he excelled in that -manly accomplishment was high treason. This emperor raised his horse, -the name of which was _Incitatus_, to the dignity of consul; and though -history is silent, I do not question but it was a capital crime to show -the least contempt for that high officer of state! Suppose, then, any -one had called the prime minister a _stupid animal_, the emperor's -council might argue that the malice of the libel was the more aggravated -by its being true, and, consequently, more likely to excite the _family -of this illustrious magistrate_ to a breach of the peace or to acts of -revenge. Such a prosecution would to us appear ridiculous; yet, if we -may rely upon tradition, there have been formerly proconsuls in America, -though of more malicious dispositions, hardly superior in understanding -to the consul _Incitatus_, and who would have thought themselves -libelled to be called by their _proper names_. - -_Nero_ piqued himself on his fine voice and skill in music: no doubt a -laudable ambition! He performed in public, and carried the prize of -excellence. It was afterward resolved by all the judges as good law, -that whosoever would _insinuate_ the least doubt of Nero's pre-eminence -in the _noble art of fiddling_ ought to be deemed a traitor to the -state. - -By the help of inferences and innuendoes, treasons multiplied in a -prodigious manner. Grief was treason: a lady of noble birth was put to -death for bewailing the death of her _murdered son_: silence was -declared an _overt act_ to prove the treasonable purposes of the heart: -looks were construed into treason: a serene, open aspect was an evidence -that the person was pleased with the calamities that befel the emperor: -a severe, thoughtful countenance was urged against the man that wore it -as a proof of his plotting against the state: _dreams_ were often made -capital offences. A new species of informers went about Rome, -insinuating themselves into all companies to fish out their dreams, -which the priests (oh nefarious wickedness!) interpreted into high -treason. The Romans were so terrified by this strange method of -juridical and penal process, that, far from discovering their dreams, -they durst not own that they slept. In this terrible situation, when -every one had so much cause to fear, even _fear_ itself was made a -crime. Caligula, when he put his brother to death, gave it as a reason -to the Senate that the youth was afraid of being murdered. To be eminent -in any virtue, either civil or military, was the greatest crime a man -could be guilty of. _O virtutes certissemum exitium._[4] - - [4] Oh virtue! the most certain ruin. - -These were some of the effects of the Roman law against libelling: those -of the British kings that aimed at despotic power or the oppression of -the subject, continually encouraged prosecutions for words. - -Henry VII., a prince mighty in politics, procured that act to be passed -whereby the jurisdiction of the Star Chamber was confirmed and extended. -Afterward Empson and Dudley, two voracious dogs of prey, under the -protection of this high court, exercised the most merciless acts of -oppression. The subjects were terrified from uttering their griefs while -they saw the thunder of the Star Chamber pointed at their heads. This -caution, however, could not prevent several dangerous tumults and -insurrections; for when the tongues of the people are restrained, they -commonly discharge their resentments by a more dangerous organ, and -break out into open acts of violence. - -During the reign of Henry VIII., a high-spirited monarch! every light -expression which happened to displease him was construed by his supple -judges into a libel, and sometimes extended to high treason. When Queen -Mary, of cruel memory, ascended the throne, the Parliament, in order to -raise a _fence_ against the violent prosecutions for words, which had -rendered the lives, liberties, and properties of all men precarious, -and, perhaps, dreading the furious persecuting spirit of this princess, -passed an act whereby it was declared, "That if a libeller doth go so -high as to libel against king or queen by denunciation, the judges shall -lay no greater fine on him than one hundred pounds, with two months' -imprisonment, and no corporeal punishment: neither was this sentence to -be passed on him except the accusation was fully proved by two -witnesses, who were to produce a certificate of their good demeanour for -the credit of their report." - -This act was confirmed by another, in the seventh year of the reign of -Queen Elizabeth; only the penalties were heightened to two hundred -pounds and three months' imprisonment. Notwithstanding she rarely -punished invectives, though the malice of the papists was indefatigable -in blackening the brightest characters with the most impudent -falsehoods, she was often heard to applaud that rescript of -_Theodosius_. If any person spoke ill of the emperor through a foolish -rashness and inadvertence, it is to be despised; if out of madness, it -deserves pity; if from malice and aversion, it calls for mercy. - -Her successor, King James I., was a prince of a quite different genius -and disposition; he used to say, that while he had the power of making -judges and bishops, _he could have what law and gospel he pleased_. -Accordingly, he filled those places with such as prostituted their -professions to his notions of prerogative. Among this number, and I hope -it is no discredit to the profession of the law, its great oracle, _Sir -Edward Coke_, appears. The Star Chamber, which in the time of Elizabeth -had gained a good repute, became an intolerable grievance in the reign -of this _learned monarch_. - -But it did not arrive at its meridian altitude till Charles I. began to -wield the sceptre. As he had formed a design to lay aside parliaments -and subvert the popular part of the constitution, he very well knew -that the form of government could not be altered without laying a -restraint on freedom of speech and the liberty of the press: therefore -he issued his royal mandate, under the great seal of England, whereby he -commanded his subjects, under pain of his displeasure, not to prescribe -to him any time for parliaments. Lord Clarendon, upon this occasion, is -pleased to write, "That all men took themselves to be prohibited, under -the penalty of censure (the censure of the Star Chamber), which few men -cared to incur, so much as to speak of parliaments, or so much as to -mention that parliaments were again to be called." - -The king's ministers, to let the nation see they were absolutely -determined to suppress all freedom of speech, caused a prosecution to be -carried on by the attorney general against three members of the House of -Commons, for words spoken in that house, Anno 1628. The members pleaded -to the information, that expressions in parliament ought only to be -examined and punished there. This notwithstanding, _they were all three -condemned as disturbers of the state_; one of these gentlemen, Sir John -Eliot, was fined two thousand pounds, and sentenced to lie in prison -till it was paid. His lady was denied admittance to him, even during his -sickness; consequently, his punishment comprehended an additional -sentence of divorce. This patriot, having endured many years -imprisonment, sunk under the oppression, and died in prison: this was -such a wound to the authority and rights of Parliament that, even after -the restoration, the judgment was revered by Parliament. - -That Englishmen of all ranks might be effectually intimidated from -publishing their thoughts on any subject, except on the side of the -court, his majesty's ministers caused an information, for several -libels, to be exhibited in the Star Chamber against Messrs. _Prynn_, -_Burton_, and _Bastwick_. They were each of them fined five thousand -pounds, and adjudged to lose their ears on the pillory, to be branded on -the cheeks with hot irons, and to suffer perpetual imprisonment! Thus -these three gentlemen, each of worth and quality in their several -professions, viz., divinity, law, and physic, were, for no other offence -than writing on controverted points of church government, exposed on -public scaffolds, and stigmatized and mutilated as common signal rogues -or the most ordinary malefactors. - -Such corporeal punishments, inflicted with all the circumstances of -cruelty and infamy, bound down all other gentlemen under a servile fear -of like treatment; so that, for several years, no one durst publicly -speak or write in defence of the liberties of the people; which the -king's ministers, his privy council, and his judges, had trampled under -their feet. The spirit of the administration looked hideous and -dreadful; the hate and resentment which the people conceived against it, -for a long time lay smothered in their breasts, where those passions -festered and grew venomous, and at last discharged themselves by an -armed and vindictive hand. - -King Charles II. aimed at the subversion of the government, but -concealed his designs under a deep hypocrisy: a method which his -predecessor, in the beginning of his reign, scorned to make use of. The -father, who affected a high and rigid gravity, discountenanced all -barefaced immorality. The son, of a gay, luxurious disposition, openly -encouraged it: thus their inclinations being different, the restraint -laid on some authors, and the encouragement given to others, were -managed after a different manner. - -In this reign a licenser was appointed for the stage and the press; no -plays were encouraged but what had a tendency to debase the minds of the -people. The original design of comedy was perverted; it appeared in all -the shocking circumstances of immodest _double entendre_, obscure -description, and lewd representation. Religion was sneered out of -countenance, and public spirit ridiculed as an awkward oldfashioned -virtue; the fine gentleman of the comedy, though embroidered over with -wit, was a consummate debauchee; and a fine lady, though set off with a -brilliant imagination, was an impudent coquette. Satire, which in the -hands of _Horace_, _Juvenal_, and _Boileau_, was pointed with a generous -resentment against vice, now became the declared foe of virtue and -innocence. As the city of London, in all ages, as well as the time we -are now speaking of, was remarkable for its opposition to arbitrary -power, the poets levelled all their artillery against the metropolis, in -order to bring the citizens into contempt: an alderman was never -introduced on the theatre but under the complicated character of a -sneaking, canting hypocrite, a miser, and a cuckold; while the -court-wits, with impunity, libelled the most valuable part of the -nation. Other writers, of a different stamp, with great learning and -gravity, endeavoured to prove to the English people that slavery was -_jure divino_.[5] Thus the stage and the press, under the direction of a -licenser, became battering engines against religion, virtue, and -liberty. Those who had courage enough to write in their defence, were -stigmatized as schismatics, and punished as disturbers of the -government. - - [5] By divine right. - -But when the embargo on wit was taken off, _Sir Richard Steel_ and _Mr. -Addison_ soon rescued the stage from the load of impurity it laboured -under with an inimitable address, they strongly recommended to our -imitation the most amiable, rational manly characters; and this with so -much success that I cannot suppose there is any reader to-day conversant -in the writings of those gentlemen, that can taste with any tolerable -relish the comedies of the once admired _Shadwell_. Vice was obliged to -retire and give place to virtue: this will always be the consequence -when truth has fair play: falsehood only dreads the attack, and cries -out for auxiliaries: the truth never fears the encounter: she scorns the -aid of the secular arm, and triumphs by her natural strength. - -But, to resume the description of the reign of Charles II., the doctrine -of servitude was chiefly managed by _Sir Roger Lestrange_. He had great -advantages in the argument, being licenser for the press, and might have -carried all before him without contradiction, if writings on the other -side of the question had not been printed by stealth. The authors, -whenever found, were prosecuted as seditious libellers; on all these -occasions the king's counsel, particularly _Sawyer_ and _Finch_, -appeared most obsequious to accomplish the ends of the court. - -During this _blessed_ management, the king had entered into a secret -league with France to render himself absolute and enslave his subjects. -This fact was discovered to the world by Dr. _Jonathan Swift_, to whom -_Sir William Temple_ had intrusted the publication of his works. - -_Sidney_, the sworn foe of tyranny, was a gentleman of noble family, of -sublime understanding and exalted courage. The ministry were resolved to -remove so great an obstacle out of the way of their designs. He was -prosecuted for high treason. The overt act charged in the indictment was -a libel found in his private study. Mr. Finch, the king's own -solicitor-general, urged with great vehemence to this effect, "that the -_imagining_ the death of the king is _treason_, even while that -imagination remains concealed in the mind, though the law cannot punish -such secret treasonable thoughts till it arrives at the knowledge of -them by some overt act. That the matter of the libel composed by Sidney -was an _imagining how to compass the death of King Charles II._; and -the writing of it was an overt act of treason, for that to write was to -act. (_Scribere est agere._)" It seems that the king's counsel in this -reign had not received the same directions as Queen Elizabeth had given -hers; she told them they were to look upon themselves as not retained so -much (_pro domina regina_, as _pro domina veritate_) for the power of -the queen as for the power of truth. - -Mr. Sidney made a strong and legal defence. He insisted that all the -words in the book contained no more than general speculations on the -principles of government, free for any man to write down; especially -since the same are written in the parliament rolls and in the statute -laws. - -He argued on the injustice of applying by innuendoes, general assertions -concerning principles of government, as overt acts to prove the writer -was compassing the death of the king; for then no man could write of -things done even by our ancestors, in defence of the constitution and -freedom of England, without exposing himself to capital danger. - -He denied that _scribere est agere_, but allowed that writing and -publishing is to act (_Scribere et publicare est agere_), and therefore -he urged that, as his book had never been published nor imparted to any -person, it could not be an overt act, within the statutes of treasons, -even admitting that it contained treasonable positions; that, on the -contrary, it was a _covert fact_, locked up in his private study, as -much concealed from the knowledge of any man as if it were locked up in -the author's mind. This was the substance of Mr. Sidney's defence: but -neither law, nor reason, nor eloquence, nor innocence ever availed where -_Jefferies_ sat as judge. Without troubling himself with any part of the -defence, he declared in a rage, that Sidney's _known principles_ were a -_sufficient_ proof of his intention to compass the death of the king. - -A packed jury therefore found him guilty of high treason: great -applications were made for his pardon. He was executed as a traitor. - -This case is a pregnant instance of the danger that attends a law for -punishing words, and of the little security the most valuable men have -for their lives, in that society where a judge, by remote inferences and -distant innuendoes, may construe the most innocent expressions into -capital crimes. _Sidney_, the British _Brutus_, the warm, the steady -friend of _liberty_; who, from an intrinsic love to mankind, left them -that invaluable legacy, his immortal discourses on government, was for -these very discourses murdered by the hands of lawless power. * * * * - -Upon the whole, to suppress inquiries into the administration is good -policy in an arbitrary government; but a free constitution and freedom -of speech have such reciprocal dependance on each other, that they -cannot subsist without consisting together. - - * * * * * - -The following extracts of a letter, signed Columella, and addressed to -the editors of the British Repository for select Papers on Agriculture, -Arts, and Manufactures (see vol. i.), will prepare those who read it for -the following paper: - -"GENTLEMEN,--There is now publishing in France a periodical work, called -Ephemeridis du Citoyen,[6] 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. - - [6] Citizen's Journal. - -"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 favour of the farmers, -when they suffered so much abuse in our public papers, and were also -plundered by the mob in many places." - - * * * * * - -_To Messieurs the Public._ - -ON THE PRICE OF CORN, AND THE MANAGEMENT OF THE POOR. - -I am one of that class of people that feeds you all, and at present -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 favour 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. - -But the wisdom of government forbade the exportation. - -Well, says I, then we must be content with the market price at home. - -No, say my lords the mob, you sha'n't have that. Bring your corn to -market if you dare; we'll 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? - -Must I keep my corn in the barn, to feed and increase 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 -labour? And why? One of the late scribblers against us gives a bill of -fare of the provisions 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 shall 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? - -Oh, but the manufacturers! the manufacturers! they are to be favoured, -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 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? - -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 lessened 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 manufacturer bought his wool cheaper, they should also -have their cloth cheaper. But the deuse 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 ironware, 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 the 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 principle, 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 _contrary to law_; and also, that though it was -_contrary to law_ for the mob to obstruct wagons, yet it was _necessary -and right_. Just the same thing to a tittle. Now they tell me an act of -indemnity ought to pass in favour of the ministry, to secure them from -the consequences of having acted illegally. If so, pass another in -favour of the mob. Others say, some of the mob ought to be hanged, by -way of example. If so--but to 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 labourers cannot afford to buy bread at a high price, -unless they had higher wages. Possibly. But how shall we farmers be able -to afford our labourers higher wages, if you will not allow us to get, -when we might have it, a higher price for our corn? - -By all that I can learn, we should at least have had a guinea a quarter -more if the exportation had been allowed. 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 of it, by indemnifying us a little out of your public -treasury. In doing a good thing there is both honour 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 in 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 for themselves, and became -richer. There is no country in the world where so many provisions are -established for them; so many hospitals to receive them when they are -sick or lame, founded and maintained by voluntary 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? And do they use their best endeavours to maintain -themselves, and lighten our shoulders of this burden! On the contrary, I -affirm that there is no country in the world in which the poor are more -idle, dissolute, drunken, and insolent.[7] 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 dependance on -somewhat else than a careful accumulation during youth and health, for -support in age or sickness. In short, you offered a premium for the -encouragement of idleness, and you should not now wonder that it has had -its effect in the increase of poverty. Repeal this law, and you will -soon see a change in their manners; _Saint Monday_ and _Saint Tuesday_ -will soon cease to be holydays. Six _days shalt thou labour_, though one -of the old commandments, long treated as out of date, will again be -looked upon as a respectable precept; industry will increase, and with -it plenty among the lower people; their circumstances will mend, and -more will be done for their happiness by inuring them to provide for -themselves, than could be done by dividing all your estates among them. - - [7] England in 1766 - -Excuse me, Messieurs the Public, if upon this _interesting_ subject I -put you to the trouble of reading a little of _my_ nonsense; I am sure I -have lately read a 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. - - * * * * * - -SINGULAR CUSTOM AMONG THE AMERICANS, ENTITLED WHITEWASHING. - -DEAR SIR, - -My wish is to give you some account of the people of these new states; -but I am far from being qualified for the purpose, having as yet seen -but little more than the cities of New-York and Philadelphia. I have -discovered but few national singularities among them. Their customs and -manners are nearly the same with those of England, which they have long -been used to copy. For, previous to the revolution, the Americans were -from their infancy taught to look up to the English as patterns of -perfection in all things. I have observed, however, one custom, which, -for aught I know, is peculiar to this country. An account of it will -serve to fill up the remainder of this sheet, and may afford you some -amusement. - -When a young couple are about to enter into the matrimonial state, a -never-failing article in the marriage treaty is, that the lady shall -have and enjoy the free and unmolested exercise of the rights of -_whitewashing_, with all its ceremonials, privileges, and appurtenances. -A young woman would forego the most advantageous connexion, and even -disappoint the warmest wish of her heart, rather than resign the -invaluable right. You would wonder what this privilege of _whitewashing_ -is: I will endeavour to give you some idea of the ceremony, as I have -seen it performed. - -There is no season of the year in which the lady may not claim her -privilege, if she pleases; but the latter end of May is most generally -fixed upon for the purpose. The attentive husband may judge by certain -prognostics when the storm is nigh at hand. When the lady is unusually -fretful, finds fault with the servants, is discontented with the -children, and complains much of the filthiness of everything about her, -these are signs which ought not to be neglected; yet they are not -decisive, as they sometimes come on and go off again without producing -any farther effect. But if, when the husband rises in the morning, he -should observe in the yard a wheelbarrow with a quantity of lime in it, -or should see certain buckets with lime dissolved in water, there is -then no time to be lost; he immediately locks up the apartment or closet -where his papers or his private property is kept, and, putting the key -in his pocket, betakes himself to flight, for a husband, however -beloved, becomes a perfect nuisance during the season of female rage; -his authority is superseded, his commission is suspended, and the very -scullion who cleans the brasses in the kitchen becomes of more -consideration and importance than him. He has nothing for it but to -abdicate, and run from an evil which he can neither prevent nor mollify. - -The husband gone, the ceremony begins. The walls are in a few minutes -stripped of their furniture: paintings, prints, and looking-glasses lie -in a huddled heap about the floors; the curtains are torn from the -testers, the beds crammed into the windows; chairs and tables, bedsteads -and cradles, crowd the yard; and the garden fence bends beneath the -weight of carpets, blankets, cloth cloaks, old coats, and ragged -breeches. _Here_ may be seen the lumber of the kitchen, forming a dark -and confused mass: for the foreground of the picture, grid irons and -frying-pans, rusty shovels and broken tongs, spits and pots, -joint-stools, and the fractured remains of rush-bottomed chairs. _There_ -a closet has disgorged its bowels, cracked tumblers, broken wineglasses, -vials of forgotten physic, papers of unknown powders, seeds, and dried -herbs, handfuls of old corks, tops of teapots, and stoppers of departed -decanters; from the raghole in the garret to the rathole in the cellar, -no place escapes unrummaged. It would seem as if the day of general doom -was come, and the utensils of the house were dragged forth to judgment. -In this tempest the words of Lear naturally present themselves, and -might, with some alteration, be made strictly applicable: - - "Let the great gods, - That keep this dreadful pother o'er our heads, - Find out their enemies now. Tremble, thou wretch, - That hast within thee undivulged crimes - Unwhipp'd of justice! - - "Close pent-up guilt, - Raise your concealing continents, and ask - These dreadful summoners grace!" - -This ceremony completed and the house thoroughly evacuated, the next -operation is to smear the walls and ceilings of every room and closet -with brushes dipped in a solution of lime, called _white wash_; to pour -buckets of water over every floor, and scratch all the partitions and -wainscots with rough brushes wet with soapsuds and dipped in -stonecutter's sand. The windows by no means escape the general deluge. A -servant scrambles out upon the penthouse, at the risk of her neck, and -with a mug in her hand and a bucket within reach, she dashes away -innumerable gallons of water against the glass panes, to the great -annoyance of the passengers in the street. - -I have been told that an action at law was once brought against one of -these water nymphs, by a person who had a new suit of clothes spoiled by -this operation; but, after long argument, it was determined by the whole -court that the action would not lie, inasmuch as the defendant was in -the exercise of a legal right, and not answerable for the consequences: -and so the poor gentleman was doubly nonsuited, for he lost not only his -suit of clothes, but his suit at law. - -These smearings and scratchings, washings and dashings, being duly -performed, the next ceremonial is to cleanse and replace the distracted -furniture. You may have seen a house-raising or a ship-launch, when all -the hands within reach are collected together: recollect, if you can, -the hurry, bustle, confusion, and noise of such a scene, and you will -have some idea of this cleaning match. The misfortune is, that the sole -object is to make things clean; it matters not how many useful, -ornamental, or valuable articles are mutilated or suffer death under the -operation; a mahogany chair and carved frame undergo the same -discipline; they are to be made _clean_ at all events, but their -preservation is not worthy of attention. For instance, a fine large -engraving is laid flat on the floor, smaller prints are piled upon it, -and the superincumbent weight cracks the glasses of the lower tier: but -this is of no consequence. A valuable picture is placed leaning against -the sharp corner of a table, others are made to lean against that, until -the pressure of the whole forces the corner of the table through the -canvass of the first. The frame and glass of a fine print are to be -_cleaned_; the spirit and oil used on this occasion are suffered to leak -through and spoil the engraving; no matter, if the glass is clean and -the frame shine, it is sufficient; the rest is not worthy of -consideration. An able arithmetician has made an accurate calculation, -founded on long experience, and has discovered that the losses and -destructions incident to two whitewashings are equal to one removal, and -three removals equal to one fire. - -The cleaning frolic over, matters begin to resume their pristine -appearance. The storm abates, and all would be well again; but it is -impossible that so great a convulsion in so small a community should not -produce some farther effects. For two or three weeks after the -operation, the family are usually afflicted with sore throats or sore -eyes, occasioned by the caustic quality of the lime, or with severe -colds from the exhalations of wet floors or damp walls. - -I know a gentleman who was fond of accounting for everything in a -philosophical way. He considers this, which I have called a custom, as a -real periodical disease, peculiar to the climate. His train of reasoning -is ingenious and whimsical, but I am not at leisure to give you a -detail. The result was, that he found the distemper to be incurable; -but, after much study, he conceived he had discovered a method to divert -the evil he could not subdue. For this purpose he caused a small -building, about twelve feet square, to be erected in his garden, and -furnished with some ordinary chairs and tables, and a few prints of the -cheapest sort were hung against the walls. His hope was, that when the -whitewashing phrensy seized the females of his family, they might repair -to this apartment, and scrub, and smear, and scour to their heart's -content, and so spend the violence of the disease in this outpost, while -he enjoyed himself in quiet at headquarters. But the experiment did not -answer his expectation; it was impossible it should, since a principal -part of the gratification consists in the lady's having an uncontrolled -right to torment her husband at least once a year, and to turn him out -of doors, and take the reins of government into her own hands. - -There is a much better contrivance than this of the philosopher, which -is, to cover the walls of the house with paper; this is generally done, -and though it cannot abolish, it at least shortens the period of female -dominion. The paper is decorated with flowers of various fancies, and -made so ornamental, that the women have admitted the fashion without -perceiving the design. - -There is also another alleviation of the husband's distress; he -generally has the privilege of a small room or closet for his books and -papers, the key of which he is allowed to keep. This is considered as a -privileged place, and stands like the land of Goshen amid the plagues of -Egypt. But then he must be extremely cautious, and ever on his guard. -For should he inadvertently go abroad and leave the key in his door, the -housemaid, who is always on the watch for such an opportunity, -immediately enters in triumph with buckets, brooms, and brushes; takes -possession of the premises, and forthwith puts all his books and papers -_to rights_, to his utter confusion and sometimes serious detriment. For -instance: - -A gentleman was sued by the executors of a tradesman, on a charge found -against him in the deceased's books to the amount of Ł30. The defendant -was strongly impressed with an idea that he had discharged the debt and -taken a receipt; but, as the transaction was of long standing, he knew -not where to find the receipt. The suit went on in course, and the time -approached when judgment would be obtained against him. He then sat -seriously down to examine a large bundle of old papers, which he had -untied and displayed on a table for that purpose. In the midst of his -search he was suddenly called away on business of importance; he forgot -to lock the door of his room. The housemaid, who had been long looking -out for such an opportunity, immediately entered with the usual -implements, and with great alacrity fell to cleaning the room and -putting things to _rights_. The first object that struck her eye was the -confused situation of the papers on the table; these were, without -delay, bundled together like so many dirty knives and forks; but, in the -action, a small piece of paper fell unnoticed on the floor, which -happened to be the very receipt in question: as it had no very -respectable appearance it was soon after swept out with the common dirt -of the room, and carried in a rubbish-pan into the yard. The tradesman -had neglected to enter the credit in his book; the defendant could find -nothing to obviate the charge, and so judgment went against him for the -debt and costs. A fortnight after the whole was settled and the money -paid, one of the children found the receipt among the rubbish in the -yard. - -There is also another custom peculiar to the city of Philadelphia, and -nearly allied to the former. I mean that of washing the pavement before -the doors every Saturday evening. I at first took this to be a -regulation of the police, but, on a farther inquiry, find it is a -religious rite preparatory to the Sabbath, and is, I believe, the only -religious rite in which the numerous sectaries of this city perfectly -agree. The ceremony begins about sunset, and continues till about ten or -eleven at night. It is very difficult for a stranger to walk the streets -on those evenings; he runs a continual risk of having a bucket of dirty -water thrown against his legs; but a Philadelphian born is so much -accustomed to the danger that he avoids it with surprising dexterity. It -is from this circumstance that a Philadelphian may be known anywhere by -his gait. The streets of New-York are paved with rough stones; these, -indeed, are not washed, but the dirt is so thoroughly swept from before -the doors that the stones stand up sharp and prominent, to the great -inconvenience of those who are not accustomed to so rough a path. But -habit reconciles everything. It is diverting enough to see a -Philadelphian at New-York; he walks the streets with as much painful -caution as if his toes were covered with corns, or his feet lamed with -the gout: while a New-Yorker, as little approving the plain masonry of -Philadelphia, shuffles along the pavement like a parrot on a mahogany -table. - -It must be acknowledged that the ablutions I have mentioned are attended -with no small inconvenience; but the women would not be induced, from -any consideration, to resign their privilege. Notwithstanding this, I -can give you the strongest assurances that the women of America make the -most faithful wives and the most attentive mothers in the world; and I -am sure you will join me in opinion, that if a married man is made -miserable only _one_ week in a whole year, he will have no great cause -to complain of the matrimonial bond. - - I am, &c. - - * * * * * - -ON THE CRIMINAL LAWS AND THE PRACTICE OF PRIVATEERING. - -_Letter to Benjamin Vaughan, Esq._ - - March 14, 1785. - -MY DEAR FRIEND - -Among the pamphlets you lately sent me was one entitled _Thoughts on -Executive Justice_. In return for that, I send you a French one on the -same subject, _Observations concernant l'Exécution de l'Article II. de -la Déclaration sur le Vol_. They are both addressed to the judges, but -written, as you will see, in a very different spirit. The English author -is for hanging _all_ thieves. The Frenchman is for proportioning -punishments to offences. - -If we really believe, as we profess to believe, that the law of Moses -was the law of God, the dictate of Divine wisdom, infinitely superior to -human, on what principle do we ordain death as the punishment of an -offence which, according to that law, was only to be punished by a -restitution of fourfold? To put a man to death for an offence which does -not deserve death, is it not a murder? And as the French writer says, -_Doit-on punir un délit contre la société par un crime contre la -nature?_[8] - - [8] Ought we to punish a crime against society by a crime against - nature? - -Superfluous property is the creature of society. Simple and mild laws -were sufficient to guard the property that was merely necessary. The -savage's bow, his hatchet, and his coat of skins, were sufficiently -secured, without law, by the fear of personal resentment and -retaliation. When, by virtue of the first laws, part of the society -accumulated wealth and grew powerful, they enacted others more severe, -and would protect their property at the expense of humanity. This was -abusing their power and commencing a tyranny. If a savage, before he -entered into society, had been told, "Your neighbour, by this means, may -become owner of a hundred deer; but if your brother, or your son, or -yourself, having no deer of your own, and being hungry, should kill one, -an infamous death must be the consequence," he would probably have -preferred his liberty, and his common right of killing any deer, to all -the advantages of society that might be proposed to him. - -That it is better a hundred guilty persons should escape than that one -innocent person should suffer, is a maxim that has been long and -generally approved; never, that I know of, controverted. Even the -sanguinary author of the _Thoughts_ agrees to it, adding well, "that the -very thought of _injured_ innocence, and much more that of _suffering_ -innocence, must awaken all our tenderest and most compassionate -feelings, and, at the same time, raise our highest indignation against -the instruments of it. But," he adds, "there is no danger of _either_ -from a strict adherence to the laws." Really! is it then impossible to -make an unjust law? and if the law itself be unjust, may it not be the -very "instrument" which ought "to raise the author's and everybody's -highest indignation?" I see in the last newspapers from London that a -woman is capitally convicted at the Old Bailey for privately stealing -out of a shop some gauze, value fourteen shillings and threepence. Is -there any proportion between the injury done by a theft, value fourteen -shillings and threepence, and the punishment of a human creature, by -death, on a gibbet? Might not that woman, by her labour, have made the -reparation ordained by God in paying fourfold? Is not all punishment -inflicted beyond the merit of the offence, so much punishment of -innocence? In this light, how vast is the annual quantity of not only -_injured_, but _suffering_ innocence, in almost all the civilized states -of Europe! - -But it seems to have been thought that this kind of innocence may be -punished by way of _preventing crimes_. I have read, indeed, of a cruel -Turk in Barbary, who, whenever he bought a new Christian slave, ordered -him immediately to be hung up by the legs, and to receive a hundred -blows of a cudgel on the soles of his feet, that the severe sense of -punishment and fear of incurring it thereafter might prevent the faults -that should merit it. Our author himself would hardly approve entirely -of this Turk's conduct in the government of slaves; and yet he appears -to recommend something like it for the government of English subjects, -when he applauds the reply of Judge Burnet to the convict horsestealer; -who, being asked what he had to say why judgment of death should not -pass against him, and answering that it was hard to hang a man for -_only_ stealing a horse, was told by the judge, "Man, thou art not to be -hanged _only_ for stealing a horse, but that horses may not be stolen." -The man's answer, if candidly examined, will, I imagine, appear -reasonable, as being founded on the eternal principle of justice and -equity, that punishments should be proportioned to offences; and the -judge's reply brutal and unreasonable, though the writer "wishes all -judges to carry it with them whenever they go the circuit, and to bear -it in their minds, as containing a wise reason for all the penal -statutes which they are called upon to put in execution. It at once -illustrates," says he, "the true grounds and reasons of all capital -punishments whatsoever, namely, that every man's property, as well as -his life, may be held sacred and inviolate." Is there, then, no -difference in value between property and life? If I think it right that -the crime of murder should be punished with death, not only as an equal -punishment of the crime, but to prevent other murders, does it follow -that I must approve of inflicting the same punishment for a little -invasion on my property by theft? If I am not myself so barbarous, so -bloody-minded and revengeful, as to kill a fellow-creature for stealing -from me fourteen shillings and threepence, how can I approve of a law -that does it? Montesquieu, who was himself a judge, endeavours to -impress other maxims. He must have known what humane judges feel on such -occasions, and what the effects of those feelings; and, so far from -thinking that severe and excessive punishments prevent crimes, he -asserts, as quoted by our French writer, that - -"L'atrocité des loix en empęche l'exécution. - -"Lorsque la peine est sans mesure, on est souvent obligé de lui préférer -l'impunité. - -"La cause de tous les relâchemens vient de l'impunité des crimes, et non -de la modération des peines."[9] - - [9] The extreme severity of the laws prevents their execution. - Where the punishment is excessive, it is frequently necessary to - prefer impunity. - - It is the exemption from punishment, and not its moderation which - is the cause of crime. - -It is said by those who know Europe generally that there are more thefts -committed and punished annually in England than in all the other nations -put together. If this be so, there must be a cause or causes for such -depravity in our common people. May not one be the deficiency of justice -and morality in our national government, manifested in our oppressive -conduct to subjects, and unjust wars on our neighbours? View the -long-persisted-in, unjust, monopolizing treatment of Ireland, at length -acknowledged! View the plundering government exercised by our merchants -in the Indies; the confiscating war made upon the American colonies; -and, to say nothing of those upon France and Spain, view the late war -upon Holland, which was seen by impartial Europe in no other light than -that of a war of rapine and pillage; the hopes of an immense and easy -prey being its only apparent, and probably its true and real motive and -encouragement. Justice is as strictly due between neighbour nations as -between neighbour citizens. A highwayman is as much a robber when he -plunders in a gang as when single; and a nation that makes an unjust war -is only a great gang. After employing your people in robbing the Dutch, -it is strange that, being put out of that employ by peace, they still -continue robbing, and rob one another? _Piraterie_, as the French call -it, or privateering, is the universal bent of the English nation, at -home and abroad, wherever settled. No less than seven hundred privateers -were, it is said, commissioned in the last war! These were fitted out by -merchants, to prey upon other merchants who had never done them any -injury. Is there probably any one of those privateering merchants of -London, who were so ready to rob the merchants of Amsterdam, that would -not as easily plunder another London merchant of the next street, if he -could do it with the same impunity? The avidity, the _alieni -appetens_[10] is the same; it is the fear of the gallows that makes the -difference. How, then, can a nation, which among the honestest of its -people has so many thieves by inclination, and whose government -encouraged and commissioned no less than seven hundred gangs of robbers; -how can such a nation have the face to condemn the crime in individuals, -and hang up twenty of them in a morning! It naturally puts one in mind -of a Newgate anecdote. One of the prisoners complained that in the night -somebody had taken his buckles out of his shoes. "What the devil!" says -another, "have we then _thieves_ among us? It must not be suffered. Let -us search out the rogue and pump him to death." - - [10] Coveting what is the property of another. - -There is, however, one late instance of an English merchant who will not -profit by such ill-gotten gain. He was, it seems, part owner of a ship, -which the other owners thought fit to employ as a letter of marque, -which took a number of French prizes. The booty being shared, he has now -an agent here inquiring, by an advertisement in the Gazette, for those -who have suffered the loss, in order to make them, as far as in him -lies, restitution. This conscientious man is a Quaker. The Scotch -Presbyterians were formerly as tender; for there is still extant an -ordinance of the town-council of Edinburgh, made soon after the -Reformation, "forbidding the purchase of prize goods, under pain of -losing the freedom of the burgh for ever, with other punishment at the -will of the magistrate; the practice of making prizes being contrary to -good conscience, and the rule of treating Christian brethren as we would -wish to be treated; and such goods _are not to be sold by any Godly man -within this burgh_." The race of these Godly men in Scotland are -probably extinct, or their principles abandoned, since, as far as that -nation had a hand in promoting the war against the colonies, prizes and -confiscations are believed to have been a considerable motive. - -It has been for some time a generally received opinion, that a military -man is not to inquire whether a war be just or unjust; he is to execute -his orders. All princes who are disposed to become tyrants must probably -approve of this opinion, and be willing to establish it; but is it not a -dangerous one? since, on that principle, if the tyrant commands his army -to attack and destroy not only an unoffending neighbour nation, but even -his own subjects, the army is bound to obey. A negro slave in our -colonies, being commanded by his master to rob and murder a neighbour, -or do any other immoral act, may refuse, and the magistrate will protect -him in his refusal. The slavery, then, of a soldier is worse than that -of a negro! A conscientious officer, if not restrained by the -apprehension of its being imputed to another cause, may indeed resign -rather than be employed in an unjust war; but the private men are slaves -for life; and they are, perhaps, incapable of judging for themselves. We -can only lament their fate, and still more that of a sailor, who is -often dragged by force from his honest occupation, and compelled to -imbrue his hands in perhaps innocent blood. But methinks it well -behooves merchants (men more enlightened by their education, and -perfectly free from any such force or obligation) to consider well of -the justice of a war, before they voluntarily engage a gang of ruffians -to attack their fellow-merchants of a neighbouring nation, to plunder -them of their property, and perhaps ruin them and their families if they -yield it, or to wound, maim, and murder them, if they endeavour to -defend it. Yet these things are done by Christian merchants, whether a -war be just or unjust; and it can hardly be just on both sides. They are -done by English and American merchants, who nevertheless complain of -private theft, and hang by dozens the thieves they have taught by their -own example. - -It is high time, for the sake of humanity, that a stop were put to this -enormity. The United States of America, though better situated than any -European nation to make profit by privateering (most of the trade of -Europe with the West Indies passing before their doors), are, as far as -in them lies, endeavouring to abolish the practice, by offering, in all -their treaties with other powers, an article, engaging solemnly that, in -case of future war, no privateer shall be commissioned on either side; -and that unarmed merchant ships on both sides shall pursue their -voyages unmolested.[11] This will be a happy improvement of the law of -nations. The humane and the just cannot but wish general success to the -proposition. - - [11] This offer having been accepted by the late king of Prussia, a - treaty of amity and commerce was concluded between that monarch and - the United States, containing the following humane, philanthropic - article, in the formation of which Dr. Franklin, as one of the - American plenipotentiaries, was principally concerned, viz., - - "ART. XXIII. If war should arise between the two contracting - parties, the merchants of either country then residing in the other - shall be allowed to remain nine months to collect their debts and - settle their affairs, and may depart freely, carrying off all their - effects without molestation or hinderance; and all women and - children, scholars of every faculty, cultivators of the earth, - artisans, manufacturers, and fishermen, unarmed and inhabiting - unfortified towns, villages, and places, and, in general, all - others whose occupations are for the common subsistence and benefit - of mankind, shall be allowed to continue their respective - employments, and shall not be molested in their persons, nor shall - their houses or goods be burned or otherwise destroyed, nor their - fields wasted by the armed force of the enemy into whose power, by - the events of war, they may happen to fall; but if anything is - necessary to be taken from them for the use of such armed force, - the same shall be paid for at a reasonable price. And all merchant - and trading vessels employed in exchanging the products of - different places, and thereby rendering the necessaries, - conveniences, and comforts of human life more easy to be obtained, - and more general, shall be allowed to pass free and unmolested; and - neither of the contracting powers shall grant or issue any - commission to any private armed vessels, empowering them to take or - destroy such trading vessels or interrupt such commerce." - -With unchangeable esteem and affection, - - I am, my dear friend, - Ever yours. - - * * * * * - -LETTER FROM ANTHONY AFTERWIT. - -MR. GAZETTEER, - -I am an honest tradesman, who never meant harm to anybody. My affairs -went on smoothly while a bachelor; but of late I have met with some -difficulties, of which I take the freedom to give you an account. - -About the time I first addressed my present spouse, her father gave out -in speeches that, if she married a man he liked, he would give with her -two hundred pounds in cash on the day of marriage. He never said so much -to me, it is true; but he always received me very kindly at his house, -and openly countenanced my courtship. I formed several fine schemes what -to do with this same two hundred pounds, and in some measure neglected -my business on that account; but, unluckily, it came to pass, that, when -the old gentleman saw I was pretty well engaged, and that the match was -too far gone to be easily broke off, he, without any reason given, grew -very angry, forbid me the house, and told his daughter that if she -married me he would not give her a farthing. However (as he thought), we -were not to be disappointed in that manner, but, having stole a wedding, -I took her home to my house, where we were not quite in so poor a -condition as the couple described in the Scotch song, who had - - "Neither pot nor pan, - But four bare legs together," - -for I had a house tolerably well furnished for a poor man before. No -thanks to Dad, who, I understand, was very much pleased with his politic -management; and I have since learned that there are other old -curmudgeons (so called) besides him, who have this trick to marry their -daughters, and yet keep what they might well spare till they can keep it -no longer. But this by way of digression; a word to the wise is enough. - -I soon saw that with care and industry we might live tolerably easy and -in credit with our neighbours; but my wife had a strong inclination to -be a gentlewoman. In consequence of this, my oldfashioned looking-glass -was one day broke, as she said, _no one could tell which way_. However, -since we could not be without a glass in the room, "My dear," saith she, -"we may as well buy a large fashionable one, that Mr. Such-a-one has to -sell. It will cost but little more than a common glass, and will look -much handsomer and more creditable." Accordingly, the glass was bought -and hung against the wall; but in a week's time I was made sensible, by -little and little, that _the table was by no means suitable to such a -glass_; and, a more proper table being procured, some time after, my -spouse, who was an excellent contriver, informed me where we might have -very handsome chairs _in the way_; and thus, by degrees, I found all my -old furniture stowed up in the garret, and everything below altered for -the better. - -Had we stopped here, it might have done well enough. But my wife being -entertained with tea by the good woman she visited, we could do no less -than the like when they visited us; so we got a teatable, with all its -appurtenances of China and silver. Then my spouse unfortunately -overworked herself in washing the house, so that we could do no longer -without a maid. Besides this, it happened frequently that when I came -home at one, the dinner was but just put in the pot, and _my dear -thought really it had been but eleven_. At other times, when I came at -the same hour, _she wondered I would stay so long, for dinner was ready -about one, and had waited for me these two hours_. These irregularities, -occasioned by mistaking the time, convinced me that it was absolutely -necessary _to buy a clock_, which my spouse observed was _a great -ornament to the room_. And lastly, to my grief, she was troubled with -some ailment or other, and _nothing did her so much good as riding, and -these hackney-horses were such wretched ugly creatures that_--I bought a -very fine pacing mare, which cost twenty pounds; and hereabouts affairs -have stood for about a twelvemonth past. - -I could see all along that this did not at all suit with my -circumstances, but had not resolution enough to help it, till lately, -receiving a very severe dun, which mentioned the next court, I began in -earnest to project relief. Last Monday, my dear went over the river to -see a relation and stay a fortnight, because she could not bear the heat -of the town air. In the interim I have taken my turn to make -alterations; namely, I have turned away the maid, bag and baggage (for -what should we do with a maid, who, besides our boy, have none but -ourselves?) I have sold the pacing mare, and bought a good milch-cow -with three pounds of the money. I have disposed of the table, and put a -good spinning-wheel in its place, which, methinks, looks very pretty; -nine empty canisters I have stuffed with flax, and with some of the -money of the tea-furniture I have bought a set of knitting-needles, for, -to tell you the truth, _I begin to want stockings_. The fine clock I -have transformed into an hourglass, by which I have gained a good round -sum; and one of the pieces of the old looking-glass, squared and framed, -supplies the place of the great one, which I have conveyed into a -closet, where it may possibly remain some years. In short, the face of -things is quite changed, and methinks you would smile to see my -hourglass hanging in the place of the clock. What a great ornament it -is to the room! I have paid my debts, and find money in my pocket. I -expect my dear home next Friday, and, as your paper is taken at the -house where she is, I hope the reading of this will prepare her mind for -the above surprising revolutions. If she can conform herself to this new -manner of living, we shall be the happiest couple, perhaps, in the -province, and, by the blessing of God, may soon be in thriving -circumstances. I have reserved the great glass, because I know her heart -is set upon it; I will allow her, when she comes in, to be taken -suddenly ill with _the headache_, _the stomach-ache_, _fainting-fits_, -or whatever other disorder she may think more proper, and she may retire -to bed as soon as she pleases. But if I should not find her in perfect -health, both of body and mind, the next morning, away goes the aforesaid -great glass, with several other trinkets I have no occasion for, to the -vendue, that very day; which is the irrevocable resolution - - Of, sir, her loving husband and - Your very humble servant, - ANTHONY AFTERWIT. - -P.S.--I would be glad to know how you approve my conduct. - -_Answer._--I don't love to concern myself in affairs between man and -wife. - - - - -LETTERS. - - -"_Mrs. Abiah Franklin._ - - "Philadelphia, April (date uncertain). - -"HONOURED MOTHER, - -"We received your kind letter of the 2d instant, by which we are glad to -hear you still enjoy such a measure of health, notwithstanding your -great age. We read your writings very easily. I never met with a word in -your letter but what I could easily understand, for, though the hand is -not always the best, the sense makes everything plain. My leg, which you -inquire after, is now quite well. I shall keep these servants: but the -man not in my own house. I have hired him out to the man that takes care -of my Dutch printing-office, who agrees to keep him in victuals and -clothes, and to pay me a dollar a week for his work. The wife, since -that affair, behaves exceeding well: but we conclude to sell them both -the first good opportunity, for we do not like negro servants. We got -again about half what we lost. - -"As to your grandchildren, Will is now 19 years of age, a tall, proper -youth, and much of a beau. He acquired a habit of idleness on the -expedition, but begins, of late, to apply himself to business, and, I -hope, will become an industrious man. He imagined his father had got -enough for him; but I have assured him that I intend to spend what -little I have myself, if it please God that I live long enough, and he -can see, by my going on, that I mean to be as good as my word. - -"Sally grows a fine girl, and is extremely industrious with her needle, -and delights in her work. She is of a most affectionate temper, and -perfectly dutiful and obliging to her parents and to all. Perhaps I -flatter myself too much, but I have hope that she will prove an -ingenious, sensible, notable, and worthy woman, like her aunt Jenny; she -goes now to the dancing school. - -"For my own part, at present, I pass my time agreeably enough; I enjoy -(through mercy) a tolerable share of health. I read a great deal, ride a -little, do a little business for myself (now and then for others), -retire when I can, and go into company when I please so; the years roll -round, and the last will come, when I would rather have it said _he -lived usefully_ than _he died rich_. - -"Cousins Josiah and Sally are well, and I believe will do well, for they -are an industrious, loving young couple; but they want a little more -stock to go on smoothly with their business. - -"My love to brother and sister Mecom and their children, and to all my -relations in general. I am your dutiful son, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Miss Jane Franklin._[12] - - [12] His sister married Mr. Edward Mecom, July 27, 1727. - - "Philadelphia, January 6, 1726-7. - -"DEAR SISTER, - -"I am highly pleased with the account Captain Freeman gives me of you. I -always judged by your behaviour when a child, that you would make a -good, agreeable woman, and you know you were ever my peculiar favourite. -I have been thinking what would be a suitable present for me to make, -and for you to receive, as I hear you are grown a celebrated beauty. I -had almost determined on a teatable; but when I considered that the -character of a good housewife was far preferable to that of being only a -pretty gentlewoman, I concluded to send you a _spinning-wheel_, which I -hope you will accept as a small token of my sincere love and affection. - -"Sister, farewell, and remember that modesty as it makes the most homely -virgin amiable and charming, so the want of it infallibly renders the -most perfect beauty disagreeable and odious. But when that brightest of -female virtues shines among other perfections of body and mind in the -same person, it makes the woman more lovely than an angel. Excuse this -freedom, and use the same with me. I am, dear Jenny, your loving -brother, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_To the same._ - - Philadelphia, July 28, 1743. - -"DEAREST SISTER JENNY, - -"I took your admonition very kindly, and was far from being offended at -you for it. If I say anything about it to you, 'tis only to rectify some -wrong opinions you seem to have entertained of me; and this I do only -because they give you some uneasiness, which I am unwilling to be the -cause of. You express yourself as if you thought I was against -worshipping of God, and doubt that good works would merit heaven; which -are both fancies of your own, I think, without foundation. I am so far -from thinking that God is not to be worshipped, that I have composed and -wrote a whole book of devotions for my own use, and I imagine there are -few, if any, in the world so weak as to imagine that the little good we -can do here can merit so vast a reward hereafter. - -"There are some things in your New-England doctrine and worship which I -do not agree with: but I do not therefore condemn them, or desire to -shake your belief or practice of them. We may dislike things that are -nevertheless right in themselves: I would only have you make me the same -allowance, and have a better opinion both of morality and your brother. -Read the pages of Mr. Edwards's late book, entitled, 'Some Thoughts -concerning the present Revival of Religion in New-England,' from 367 to -375; and when you judge of others, if you can perceive the fruit to be -good, don't terrify yourself that the tree may be evil; but be assured -it is not so, for you know who has said, 'Men do not gather grapes off -thorns, and figs off thistles.' I have not time to add, but that I shall -always be your affectionate brother, - - "B. FRANKLIN. - -"P.S.--It was not kind in you, when your sister commenced good works, to -suppose she intended it a reproach to you. 'Twas very far from her -thoughts." - - * * * * * - -"_To Mr. George Whitefield._ - - "Philadelphia, June 6, 1753. - -"SIR, - -"I received your kind letter of the 2d instant, and am glad to hear that -you increase in strength; I hope you will continue mending till you -recover your former health and firmness. Let me know whether you still -use the cold bath, and what effect it has. - -"As to the kindness you mention, I wish it could have been of more -service to you. But if it had, the only thanks I should desire is, that -you would always be equally ready to serve any other person that may -need your assistance, and so let good offices go round; for mankind are -all of a family. - -"For my own part, when I am employed in serving others, I do not look -upon myself as conferring favours, but as paying debts. In my travels -and since my settlement, I have received much kindness from men to whom -I shall never have an opportunity of making the least direct return, and -numberless mercies from God, who is infinitely above being benefited by -our services. Those kindnesses from men I can therefore only return on -their fellow-men, and I can only show my gratitude for these mercies -from God by a readiness to help his other children and my brethren. For -I do not think that thanks and compliments, though repeated weekly, can -discharge our real obligations to each other, and much less those to our -Creator. You will see in this my notion of good works, that I am far -from expecting to merit heaven by them. By heaven we understand a state -of happiness infinite in degree and eternal in duration: I can do -nothing to deserve such rewards. He that, for giving a draught of water -to a thirsty person, should expect to be paid with a good plantation, -would be modest in his demands compared with those who think they -deserve heaven for the little good they do on earth. Even the mixed, -imperfect pleasures we enjoy in this world are rather from God's -goodness than our merit: how much more such happiness of heaven! For my -part, I have not the vanity to think I deserve it, the folly to expect -it, nor the ambition to desire it; but content myself in submitting to -the will and disposal of that God who made me, who has hitherto -preserved and blessed me, and in whose fatherly goodness I may well -confide, that he will never make me miserable, and that even the -afflictions I may at any time suffer shall tend to my benefit. * * * * - -"I wish you health and happiness. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To Mrs. D. Franklin._ - - "Guadenhathen, January 25, 1756. - -"MY DEAR CHILD, - -"This day week we arrived here; I wrote to you the same day, and once -since. We all continue well, thanks be to God. We have been hindered -with bad weather, yet our fort is in a good defensible condition, and we -have every day more convenient living. Two more are to be built, one on -each side of this, at about fifteen miles' distance. I hope both will be -done in a week or ten days, and then I purpose to bend my course -homeward. - -"We have enjoyed your roast beef, and this day began on the roast veal; -all agree that they are both the best that ever were of the kind. Your -citizens, that have their dinners hot and hot, know nothing of good -eating; we find it in much greater perfection when the kitchen is -fourscore miles from the dining-room. - -"The apples are extremely welcome, and do bravely to eat after our salt -pork; the minced pies are not yet come to hand, but suppose we shall -find them among the things expected up from Bethlehem on Tuesday; the -capillaire is excellent, but none of us having taken cold as yet, we -have only tasted it. - -"As to our lodging, 'tis on deal feather beds, in warm blankets, and -much more comfortable than when we lodged at our inn the first night -after we left home; for the woman being about to put very damp sheets on -the bed, we desired her to air them first; half an hour afterward she -told us the bed was ready and the sheets _well aired_. I got into bed, -but jumped out immediately, finding them as cold as death, and partly -frozen. She had _aired_ them indeed, but it was out upon the _hedge_. I -was forced to wrap myself up in my greatcoat and woollen trousers; -everything else about the bed was shockingly dirty. - -"As I hope in a little time to be with you and my family, and chat -things over, I now only add that I am, dear Debby, your affectionate -husband, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To the same._ - - "Easton, Saturday morning, November 13, 1756. - -"MY DEAR CHILD, - -"I wrote to you a few days since by a special messenger, and enclosed -letters for all our wives and sweethearts, expecting to hear from you by -his return, and to have the northern newspapers and English letters per -the packet; but he is just now returned without a scrap for poor us. So -I had a good mind not to write to you by this opportunity; but I never -can be ill-natured enough, even when there is the most occasion. The -messenger says he left the letters at your house, and saw you afterward -at Mr. Dentie's, and told you when he would go, and that he lodged at -Honey's, next door to you, and yet you did not write; so let Goody Smith -give one more just judgment, and say what should be done to you; I think -I won't tell you that we are well, nor that we expect to return about -the middle of the week, nor will I send you a word of news; that's poz. -My duty to mother, love to the children, and to Miss Betsey and Gracey, -&c., &c. - - "B. FRANKLIN. - -"P.S.--I have _scratched out the loving words_, being written in haste -by mistake, _when I forgot . was angry_." - -[Transcriber's Note: Unreadable word after "I forgot"] - - * * * * * - -"_Mrs. Jane Mecom, Boston._ - - New-York, April 19, 1757. - -"DEAR SISTER, - -"I wrote a few lines to you yesterday, but omitted to answer yours -relating to sister Dowse. _As having their own way_ is one of the -greatest comforts of life to old people, I think their friends should -endeavour to accommodate them in that as well as anything else. When -they have long lived in a house, it becomes natural to them; they are -almost as closely connected with it as the tortoise with his shell: they -die if you tear them out of it. Old folks and old trees, if you remove -them, 'tis ten to one that you kill them, so let our good old sister be -no more importuned on that head: we are growing old fast ourselves, and -shall expect the same kind of indulgences; if we give them, we shall -have a right to receive them in our turn. - -"And as to her few fine things, I think she is in the right not to sell -them, and for the reason she gives, that they will fetch but little, -when that little is spent, they would be of no farther use to her; but -perhaps the expectation of possessing them at her death may make that -person tender and careful of her, and helpful to her to the amount of -ten times their value. If so, they are put to the best use they possibly -can be. - -"I hope you visit sister as often as your affairs will permit, and -afford her what assistance and comfort you can in her present situation. -_Old age_, _infirmities_, and _poverty_ joined, are afflictions enough. -The _neglect_ and _slights_ of friends and near relations should never -be added; people in her circumstances are apt to suspect this sometimes -without cause, _appearances_ should therefore be attended to in our -conduct towards them as well as _relatives_. I write by this post to -cousin William, to continue his care which I doubt not he will do. - -"We expect to sail in about a week, so that I can hardly hear from you -again on this side the water; but let me have a line from you now and -then while I am in London; I expect to stay there at least a -twelvemonth. Direct your letters to be left for me at the Pennsylvania -Coffee-house, in Birchin Lane, London. - - "B. FRANKLIN. - -"P.S., April 25.--We are still here, and perhaps may be here a week -longer. Once more adieu, my dear sister." - - * * * * * - -_To the same._ - - Woodbridge, East New-Jersey, May 21, 1757. - -"DEAR SISTER, - -"I received your kind letter of the 9th instant, in which you acquainted -me with some of your late troubles. These are troublesome times to us -all; but perhaps you have heard more than you should. I am glad to hear -that Peter is at a place where he has full employ. A trade is a valuable -thing; but unless a habit of industry be acquired with it, it turns out -of little use; if he gets THAT in his new place, it will be a happy -exchange, and the occasion not an unfortunate one. - -"It is very agreeable to me to hear so good an account of your other -children: in such a number, to have no bad ones is a great happiness. - -"The horse sold very low indeed. If I wanted one to-morrow, knowing his -goodness, old as he is, I should freely give more than twice the money -for him; but you did the best you could, and I will take of Benny no -more than he produced. - -"I don't doubt but Benny will do very well when he gets to work: but I -fear his things from England may be so long a coming as to occasion the -loss of the rent. Would it not be better for you to move into the -house? Perhaps not, if he is near being married. I know nothing of that -affair but what you write me, except that I think Miss Betsey a very -agreeable, sweet-tempered, good girl, who has had a housewifery -education, and will make, to a good husband, a very good wife. Your -sister and I have a great esteem for her, and if she will be kind enough -to accept of our nephew, we think it will be his own fault if he is not -as happy as the married state can make him. The family is a respectable -one, but whether there be any fortune I know not; and as you do not -inquire about this particular, I suppose you think with me, that where -everything else desirable is to be met with, that is not very material. -If she does not bring a fortune she will have to make one. Industry, -frugality, and prudent economy in a wife, are to a tradesman, in their -effects, a fortune; and a fortune sufficient for Benjamin, if his -expectations are reasonable. We can only add, that if the young lady and -her friends are willing, we give our consent heartily and our blessing. -My love to brother and the children concludes with me. - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_To the same_. - - "New-York, May 30, 1757 - -"DEAR SISTER, - -"I have before me yours of the 9th and 16th instant. I am glad you have -resolved to visit sister Dowse oftener; it will be a great comfort to -her to find she is not neglected by you, and your example may, perhaps, -be followed by some other of her relations. - -"As Neddy is yet a young man, I hope he may get over the disorder he -complains of, and in time wear it out. My love to him and his wife and -the rest of your children. It gives me pleasure to hear that Eben is -likely to get into business at his trade. If he will be industrious and -frugal, 'tis ten to one but he gets rich, for he seems to have spirit -and activity. - -"I am glad that Peter is acquainted with the crown soap business, so as -to make what is good of the kind. I hope he will always take care to -make it faithfully, never slight manufacture, or attempt to deceive by -appearances. Then he may boldly put his name and mark, and in a little -time it will acquire as good a character as that made by his late uncle, -or any other person whatever. I believe his aunt at Philadelphia can -help him to sell a good deal of it; and I doubt not of her doing -everything in her power to promote his interest in that way. Let a box -be sent to her (but not unless it be right good), and she will -immediately return the ready money for it. It was beginning once to be -in vogue in Philadelphia, but brother John sent me one box, an ordinary -sort, which checked its progress. I would not have him put the Franklin -arms on it; but the soapboiler's arms he has a right to use, if he -thinks fit. The other would look too much like an attempt to -counterfeit. In his advertisements he may value himself on serving his -time with the original maker, but put his own mark or device on the -papers, or anything he may be advised as proper; only on the soap, as it -is called by the name of crown soap, it seems necessary to use a stamp -of that sort, and perhaps no soapboiler in the king's dominions has a -better right to the crown than himself. - -"Nobody has wrote a syllable to me concerning his making use of the -hammer, or made the least complaint of him or you. I am sorry, however, -he took it without leave. It was irregular, and if you had not approved -of his doing it I should have thought it indiscreet. _Leave_, they say, -is _light_, and it seems to me a piece of respect that was due to his -aunt to ask it, and I can scarce think she would have refused him the -favour. - -"I am glad to hear Jamey is so good and diligent a workman; if he ever -sets up at the goldsmith's business, he must remember that there is one -accomplishment without which he cannot possibly thrive in that trade -(i. e., _to be perfectly honest_). It is a business that, though ever so -uprightly managed, is always liable to suspicion; and if a man is once -detected in the smallest fraud it soon becomes public, and every one is -put upon their guard against him; no one will venture to try his hands, -or trust him to make up their plate; so at once he is ruined. I hope my -nephew will therefore establish a character as an _honest_ and faithful -as well as _skilful_ workman, and then he need not fear employment. - -"And now, as to what you propose for Benny, I believe he may be, as you -say, well enough qualified for it; and when he appears to be settled, if -a vacancy should happen, it is very probable he may be thought of to -supply it; but it is a rule with me not to remove any officer that -behaves well, keeps regular accounts, and pays duly; and I think the -rule is founded on reason and justice. I have not shown any backwardness -to assist Benny, where it could be done without injuring another. But if -my friends require of me to gratify not only their inclinations, but -their resentments, they expect too much of me. Above all things, I -dislike family quarrels; and when they happen among my relations, -nothing gives me more pain. If I were to set myself up as a judge of -those subsisting between you and brother's widow and children, how -unqualified must I be, at this distance, to determine rightly, -especially having heard but one side. They always treated me with -friendly and affectionate regard; you have done the same. What can I say -between you but that I wish you were reconciled, and that I will love -that side best that is most ready to forgive and oblige the other. You -will be angry with me here for putting you and them too much upon a -footing, but I shall nevertheless be - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Miss Stevenson, Wanstead._ - - "Craven-street, May 16, 1760. - -"I send my good girl the books I mentioned to her last night. I beg her -to accept of them as a small mark of my esteem and friendship. They are -written in the familiar, easy manner for which the French are so -remarkable; and afford a good deal of philosophic and practical -knowledge, unembarassed with the dry mathematics used by more exact -reasoners, but which is apt to discourage young beginners. - -"I would advise you to read with a pen in your hand, and enter in a -little book short hints of what you find that is curious or that may be -useful; for this will be the best method of imprinting such particulars -in your memory, where they will be ready either for practice on some -future occasion if they are matters of utility, or at least to adorn and -improve your conversation if they are rather points of curiosity. And as -many of the terms of science are such as you cannot have met with in -your common reading, and may, therefore, be unacquainted with, I think -it would be well for you to have a good dictionary at hand, to consult -immediately when you meet with a word you do not comprehend the precise -meaning of. This may at first seem troublesome and interrupting; but it -is a trouble that will daily diminish, as you will daily find less and -less occasion for your dictionary, as you become more acquainted with -the terms; and in the mean time you will read with more satisfaction, -because with more understanding. When any point occurs in which you -would be glad to have farther information than your book affords you, I -beg you would not in the least apprehend that I should think it a -trouble to receive and answer your questions. It will be a pleasure, and -no trouble. For though I may not be able, out of my own little stock of -knowledge, to afford you what you require, I can easily direct you to -the books where it may most readily be found. - -"Adieu, and believe me ever, my dear friend, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Lord Kames._ - - "Portsmouth, August 17, 1761. - -"MY DEAR LORD, - -"I am now waiting here only for a wind to waft me to America, but cannot -leave this happy island and my friends in it without extreme regret, -though I am going to a country and a people that I love. I am going from -the Old World to the New, and I fancy I feel like those who are leaving -this world for the next; grief at the parting; fear of the passage; hope -of the future: these different passions all affect their minds at once, -and these have _tendered_ me down exceedingly. It is usual for the dying -to beg forgiveness of their surviving friends if they have ever offended -them. Can you, my lord, forgive my long silence, and my not -acknowledging till now the favour you did me in sending me your -excellent book? Can you make some allowance for a fault in others which -you have never experienced in yourself; for the bad habit of postponing -from day to day what one every day resolves to do to-morrow? A habit -that grows upon us with years, and whose only excuse is we know not how -to mend it. If you are disposed to favour me, you will also consider how -much one's mind is taken up and distracted by the many little affairs -one has to settle, before the undertaking such a voyage, after so long a -residence in a country; and how little, in such a situation, one's mind -is fitted for serious and attentive reading, which, with regard to the -_Elements of Criticism_, I intended before I should write. I can now -only confess and endeavour to amend. In packing up my books, I have -reserved yours to read on the passage. I hope I shall therefore be able -to write to you upon it soon after my arrival. At present I can only -return my thanks, and say that the parts I have read gave me both -pleasure and instruction; that I am convinced of your position, new as -it was to me, that a good taste in the arts contributes to the -improvement of morals; and that I have had the satisfaction of hearing -the work universally commended by those who have read it. - -"And now, my dear sir, accept my sincere thanks for the kindness you -have shown me, and my best wishes of happiness to you and yours. -Wherever I am, I shall esteem the friendship you honour me with as one -of the felicities of my life; I shall endeavour to cultivate it by a -more punctual correspondence; and I hope frequently to hear of your -welfare and prosperity. - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_To the same._[13] - - [13] Lord Kames had written to Dr. Franklin as early as 1765, when - the first advices reached England of the disorders occasioned by - the attempts to carry the stamp-act into execution; and he had - written a second letter to him on the same subject in the beginning - of 1767. This is a copy of Dr. Franklin's answer to these letters. - - London, April 11, 1767. - -"MY DEAR LORD, - -I received your obliging favour of January the 19th. You have kindly -relieved me from the pain I had long been under. You are goodness -itself. I ought to have answered yours of December 25, 1765. I never -received a letter that contained sentiments more suitable to my own. It -found me under much agitation of mind on the very important subject it -treated. It fortified me greatly in the judgment I was inclined to form -(though contrary to the general vogue) on the then delicate and critical -situation of affairs between Great Britain and the colonies, and on that -weighty point, their _union_. You guessed aright in supposing that I -would not be a _mute in that play_. I was extremely busy, attending -members of both houses, informing, explaining, consulting, disputing, in -a continual hurry from morning to night, till the affair was happily -ended. During the course of its being called before the House of Commons -I spoke my mind pretty freely. Enclosed I send you the imperfect account -that was taken of that examination; you will there see how entirely we -agree, except in a point of fact, of which you could not but be -misinformed; the papers at that time being full of mistaken assertions, -that the colonies had been the cause of the war, and had ungratefully -refused to bear any part of the expense of it. I send it you now, -because I apprehend some late accidents are likely to revive the contest -between the two countries. I fear it will be a mischievous one. It -becomes a matter of great importance, that clear ideas should be formed -on solid principles, both in Britain and America, of the true political -relation between them, and the mutual duties belonging to that relation. -Till this is done they will be often jarring. I know none whose -knowledge, sagacity, and impartiality qualify him so thoroughly for such -a service as yours do you. I wish, therefore, you would consider it. You -may thereby be the happy instrument of great good to the nation, and of -preventing much mischief and bloodshed. I am fully persuaded with you, -that a _consolidating union_, by a fair and equal representation of all -the parts of this empire in Parliament, is the only firm basis on which -its political grandeur and prosperity can be founded. Ireland once -wished it, but now rejects it. The time has been when the colonies might -have been pleased with it, they are now _indifferent_ about it, and if -it is much longer delayed, they too will _refuse_ it. But the pride of -this people cannot bear the thought of it, and therefore it will be -delayed. Every man in England seems to consider himself as a piece of a -sovereign over America; seems to jostle himself into the throne with the -king, and talks of _our subjects in the colonies_. The Parliament cannot -well and wisely make laws suited to the colonies, without being properly -and truly informed of their circumstances, abilities, temper, &c. This -it cannot be without representatives from thence; and yet it is fond of -this power, and averse to the only means of acquiring the necessary -knowledge for exercising it, which is desiring to be _omnipotent_ -without being _omniscient_. - -"I have mentioned that the contest is likely to be revived. It is on -this occasion: in the same session with the stamp-act, an act was passed -to regulate the quartering of soldiers in America: when the bill was -first brought in, it contained a clause empowering the officers to -quarter their soldiers in private houses; this we warmly opposed, and -got it omitted. The bill passed, however, with a clause that empty -houses, barns, &c., should be hired for them; and that the respective -provinces where they were should pay the expense, and furnish firing, -bedding, drink, and some other articles to the soldiers, _gratis_. There -is no way for any province to do this but by the Assembly's making a law -to raise the money. Pennsylvania Assembly has made such a law; New-York -Assembly has refused to do it; and now all the talk here is, of sending -a force to compel them. - -"The reasons given by the Assembly to the governor for the refusal are, -that they understand the act to mean the furnishing such things to -soldiers only while on their march through the country, and not to great -bodies of soldiers, to be fixed, as at present, in the province; the -burden in the latter case being greater than the inhabitants can bear; -that it would put it in the power of the captain-general to oppress the -province at pleasure, &c. But there is supposed to be another reason at -bottom, which they intimate, though they do not plainly express it, to -wit, that it is of the nature of an _internal tax_ laid on them by -Parliament, which has no right so to do. Their refusal is here called -_rebellion_, and punishment is thought of. - -"Now, waving that point of right, and supposing the legislatures in -America subordinate to the legislatures of Great Britain, one might -conceive, I think, a power in the superior legislature to forbid the -inferior legislatures making particular laws; but to enjoin it to make a -particular law, contrary to its own judgment, seems improper; an -assembly or parliament not being an _executive_ officer of government, -whose duty it is, in law-making, to obey orders, but a _deliberative_ -body, who are to consider what comes before them, its propriety, -practicability, or possibility, and to determine accordingly; the very -nature of a parliament seems to be destroyed by supposing it may be -bound and compelled by a law of a superior parliament to make a law -contrary to its own judgment. - -"Indeed, the act of Parliament in question has not, as in other acts, -when a duty is enjoined, directed a penalty on neglect or refusal, and a -mode of recovering that penalty. It seems, therefore, to the people in -America as a requisition, which they are at liberty to comply with or -not, as it may suit or not suit the different circumstances of the -different provinces. Pennsylvania has, therefore, voluntarily complied. -New-York, as I said before, has refused. The ministry that made the act, -and all their adherents, call for vengeance. The present ministry are -perplexed, and the measures they will finally take on the occasion are -yet unknown. But sure I am that if _force_ is used great mischief will -ensue, the affections of the people of America to this country will be -alienated, your commerce will be diminished, and a total separation of -interests be the final consequence. - -"It is a common but mistaken notion here, that the colonies were planted -at the expense of Parliament, and that, therefore, the Parliament has a -right to tax them, &c. The truth is, they were planted at the expense of -private adventurers, who went over there to settle, with leave of the -king, given by charter. On receiving this leave and those charters, the -adventurers voluntarily engaged to remain the king's subjects, though in -a foreign country; a country which had not been conquered by either king -or parliament, but was possessed by a free people. - -"When our planters arrived, they purchased the lands of the natives, -without putting king or parliament to any expense. Parliament had no -hand in their settlement, was never so much as consulted about their -constitution, and took no kind of notice of them till many years after -they were established. I except only the two modern colonies, or, -rather, attempts to make colonies (for they succeed but poorly, and, as -yet, hardly deserve the name of colonies), I mean Georgia and Nova -Scotia, which have hitherto been little better than parliamentary jobs. -Thus all the colonies acknowledge the king as their sovereign; his -governors there represent his person: laws are made by their assemblies -or little parliaments, with the governor's assent, subject still to the -king's pleasure to affirm or annul them. Suits arising in the colonies, -and between colony and colony, are determined by the king in council. In -this view they seem so many separate little states, subject to the same -prince. The sovereignty of the king is therefore easily understood. But -nothing is more common here than to talk of the _sovereignty_ of -PARLIAMENT, and the sovereignty of this nation over the colonies; a kind -of sovereignty, the idea of which is not so clear, nor does it clearly -appear on what foundation it is established. On the other hand, it seems -necessary, for the common good of the empire, that a power be lodged -somewhere to regulate its general commerce; this can be placed nowhere -so properly as in the Parliament of Great Britain; and, therefore, -though that power has in some instances been executed with great -partiality to Britain and prejudice to the colonies, they have -nevertheless always submitted to it. Custom-houses are established in -all of them, by virtue of laws made here, and the duties instantly paid, -except by a few smugglers, such as are here and in all countries; but -internal taxes laid on them by Parliament are still, and ever will be, -objected to for the reason that you will see in the mentioned -examination. - -"Upon the whole, I have lived so great a part of my life in Britain, and -have formed so many friendships in it, that I love it, and sincerely -wish it prosperity; and, therefore, wish to see that union on which -alone I think it can be secured and established. As to America, the -advantages of such a union to her are not so apparent. She may suffer at -present under the arbitrary power of this country; she may suffer for a -while in a separation from it; but these are temporary evils which she -will outgrow. Scotland and Ireland are differently circumstanced. -Confined by the sea, they can scarcely increase in numbers, wealth, and -strength, so as to overbalance England. But America, an immense -territory, favoured by nature with all advantages of climate, soils, -great navigable rivers, lakes, &c., must become a great country, -populous and mighty; and will, in a less time than is generally -conceived, be able to shake off any shackles that may be imposed upon -her, and, perhaps, place them on the imposers. In the mean time, every -act of oppression will sour their tempers, lessen greatly, if not -annihilate, the profits of your commerce with them, and hasten their -final revolt; for the seeds of liberty are universally found there, and -nothing can eradicate them. And yet there remains among that people so -much respect, veneration, and affection for Britain, that, if cultivated -prudently, with a kind usage and tenderness for their privileges, they -might be easily governed still for ages, without force or any -considerable expense. But I do not see here a sufficient quantity of the -wisdom that is necessary to produce such a conduct, and I lament the -want of it. - -"I borrowed at Millar's the new edition of your _Principles of Equity_, -and have read with great pleasure the preliminary discourse on the -principles of morality. I have never before met with anything so -satisfactory on the subject. While reading it, I made a few remarks as I -went along. They are not of much importance, but I send you the paper. - -"I know the lady you mention (Mrs. Montague), having, when in England -before, met her once or twice at Lord Bath's. I remember I then -entertained the same opinion of her that you express. On the strength of -your recommendation, I purpose soon to wait on her. - -"This is unexpectedly grown a long letter. The visit to Scotland and the -_Art of Virtue_ we will talk of hereafter. It is now time to say that I -am, with increasing esteem and affection, - - "B. FRANKLIN."[14] - - [14] This letter was intercepted by the British ministry; Dr. F. - had preserved a copy of it, which was afterward transmitted to Lord - Kames; but the wisdom that composed and conveyed it was thrown away - upon the men at that time in power. - - * * * * * - -"_Lord Kames._ - - "London, February 21, 1769. - -"MY DEAR FRIEND, - -"I received your excellent paper on the preferable use of oxen in -agriculture, and have put it in the way of being communicated to the -public here. I have observed in America that the farmers are more -thriving in those parts of the country where horned cattle are used, -than in those where the labour is done by horses. The latter are said to -require twice the quantity of land to maintain them and, after all, are -not good to eat--at least we don't think them so. Here is a waste of -land that might afford subsistence for so many of the human species. -Perhaps it was for this reason that the Hebrew lawgiver, having promised -that the children of Israel should be as numerous as the sands of the -sea, not only took care to secure the health of individuals by -regulating their diet, that they might be better fitted for producing -children, but also forbid their using horses, as those animals would -lessen the quantity of subsistence for man. Thus we find, when they took -any horses from their enemies, they destroyed them; and in the -commandments, where the labour of the ox and ass is mentioned, and -forbidden on the Sabbath, there is no mention of the horse, probably -because they were to have none. And by the great armies suddenly raised -in that small territory they inhabited, it appears to have been very -full of people.[15] - - [15] There is not in the Jewish law any express prohibition - against the use of horses: it is only enjoined that the kings - should not multiply the breed, or carry on trade with Egypt for the - purchase of horses.--Deut. xvii., 16. Solomon was the first of the - kings of Judah who disregarded this ordinance. He had 40,000 stalls - of horses which he brought out of Egypt.--1 Kings iv., 26, and x., - 28. From this time downward horses were in constant use in the - Jewish armies. It is true that the country, from its rocky surface - and unfertile soil, was extremely unfit for the maintenance of - those animals.--_Note by Lord Kames._ - -"Food is _always_ necessary to _all_, and much the greatest part of the -labour of mankind is employed in raising provisions for the mouth. Is -not this kind of labour, then, the fittest to be the standard by which -to measure the values of all other labour, and, consequently, of all -other things whose value depends on the labour of making or procuring -them? may not even gold and silver be thus valued? If the labour of the -farmer, in producing a bushel of wheat, be equal to the labour of the -miner in producing an ounce of silver, will not the bushel of wheat just -measure the value of the ounce of silver. The miner must eat; the -farmer, indeed, can live without the ounce of silver, and so, perhaps, -will have some advantage in settling the price. But these discussions I -leave to you, as being more able to manage them: only, I will send you a -little scrap I wrote some time since on the laws prohibiting foreign -commodities. - -"I congratulate you on your election as president of your Edinburgh -Society. I think I formerly took notice to you in conversation, that I -thought there had been some similarity in our fortunes and the -circumstances of our lives. This is a fresh instance, for by letters -just received I find that I was about the same time chosen President of -our American Philosophical Society, established at Philadelphia.[16] - - [16] The American Philosophical Society was instituted in 1769, and - was formed by the union of two societies which had formerly - subsisted at Philadelphia, whose views and objects were of a - similar nature. Its members were classed in the following - committees: - - 1. Geography, Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and Astronomy. - - 2. Medicine and Anatomy. - - 3. Natural History and Chymistry. - - 4. Trade and Commerce. - - 5. Mechanics and Architecture. - - 6. Husbandry and American Improvements. - - Several volumes have been published of the transactions of this - American Society, in which are many papers by Dr. Franklin.--_Note - by Lord Kames._ - -"I have sent by sea, to the care of Mr. Alexander a little box -containing a few copies of the late edition of my books, for my friends -in Scotland. One is directed for you, and one for your society, which I -beg that you and they would accept as a small token of my respect. - - "With the sincerest esteem and regard, - "B. FRANKLIN. - -"P.S.--I am sorry my letter of 1767, concerning the American disputes, -miscarried. I now send you a copy of it from my book. The examination -mentioned in it you have probably seen. Things daily wear a worse -aspect, and tend more and more to a breach and final separation." - - * * * * * - -"_John Alleyne._ - - "Craven-street, August 9, 1768. - -"DEAR JACK, - -"You desire, you say, my impartial thoughts on the subject of an early -marriage, by way of answer to the numberless objections that have been -made by numerous persons to your own. You may remember, when you -consulted me on the occasion, that I thought youth on both sides to be -no objection. Indeed, from the marriages that have fallen under my -observation, I am rather inclined to think that early ones stand the -best chance of happiness. The temper and habits of the young are not yet -become so stiff and uncomplying as when more advanced in life; they form -more easily to each other, and hence many occasions of disgust are -removed. And if youth has less of that prudence which is necessary to -manage a family, yet the parents and elder friends of young married -persons are generally at hand to afford their advice, which amply -supplies that defect; and, by early marriage, youth is sooner formed to -regular and useful life; and possibly some of those accidents or -connexions, that might have injured the constitution or reputation, or -both, are thereby happily prevented. Particular circumstances of -particular persons may possibly, sometimes, make it prudent to delay -entering into that state; but, in general, when nature has rendered our -bodies fit for it, the presumption is in nature's favour, for she has -not judged amiss in making us desire it. Late marriages are often -attended, too, with this farther inconvenience, that there is not the -same chance that the parents shall live to see their offspring educated. -'_Late children_,' says the Spanish proverb, '_are early orphans_.' A -melancholy reflection to those whose case it may be! With us in America -marriages are generally in the morning of life; our children are -therefore educated and settled in the world by noon; and thus, our -business being done, we have an afternoon and evening of cheerful -leisure to ourselves, such as our friend at present enjoys. By these -early marriages we are blessed with more children; and from the mode -among us, founded by nature, of every mother suckling and nursing her -own child, more of them are raised. Thence the swift progress of -population among us, unparalleled in Europe. In fine, I am glad you are -married, and congratulate you most cordially upon it. You are now in the -way of becoming a useful citizen; and you have escaped the unnatural -state of celibacy for life--the fate of many here who never intended it, -but who, having too long postponed the change of their condition, find -at length that it is too late to think of it, and so live all their -lives in a situation that greatly lessens a man's value. An odd volume -of a set of books bears not the value of its proportion to the set: what -think you of the odd half of a pair of scissors? it can't well cut -anything; it may possibly serve to scrape a trencher. - -"Pray make my compliments and best wishes acceptable to your bride. I am -old and heavy, or I should, ere this, have presented them in person. I -shall make but small use of the old man's privilege, that of giving -advice to younger friends. Treat your wife always with respect; it will -procure respect to you, not only from her, but from all that observe it. -Never use a slighting expression to her, even in jest; for slights in -jest, after frequent bandyings, are apt to end in angry earnest. Be -studious in your profession, and you will be learned. Be industrious and -frugal, and you will be rich. Be sober and temperate, and you will be -healthy. Be in general virtuous, and you will be happy. At least, you -will, by such conduct, stand the best chance for such consequences. - -"I pray God to bless you both, being ever your affectionate friend, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Governor Franklin._ - - "London, Dec. 19, 1767. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"The resolutions of the Boston people concerning trade make a great -noise here. Parliament has not yet taken notice of them, but the -newspapers are in full cry against America. Colonel Onslow told me at -court last Sunday, that I could not conceive how much the friends of -America were run upon and hurt by them, and how much the Grenvillians -triumphed. I have just written a paper for next Thursday's Chronicle, -to extenuate matters a little. - -"Mentioning Colonel Onslow reminds me of something that passed at the -beginning of this session in the house between him and Mr. Grenville. -The latter had been raving against America, as traitorous, rebellious, -&c., when the former, who has always been its firm friend, stood up and -gravely said, that in reading the Roman history, he found it was a -custom among that wise and magnanimous people, whenever the senate was -informed of any discontent in the provinces, to send two or three of -their body into the discontented provinces to inquire into the -grievances complained of, and report to the senate, that mild measures -might be used to remedy what was amiss before any severe steps were -taken to enforce obedience. That this example he thought worthy our -imitation in the present state of our colonies, for he did so far agree -with the honourable gentleman that spoke just before him as to allow -there were great discontents among them. He should therefore beg leave -to move, that two or three members of Parliament be appointed to go over -to New-England on this service. And that it might not be supposed he was -for imposing burdens on others that he would not be willing to bear -himself, he did at the same time declare his own willingness, if the -house should think fit to appoint them, to go over thither _with that -honourable gentleman_. Upon this there was a great laugh, which -continued some time, and was rather increased by Mr. Grenville's asking, -'Will the gentleman engage that I shall be safe there? Can I be assured -that I shall be allowed to come back again to make the report?' As soon -as the laugh was so far subsided as that Mr. Onslow could be heard -again, he added, 'I cannot absolutely engage for the honourable -gentleman's safe return; but if he goes thither upon this service, I am -strongly of opinion the _event_ will contribute greatly to the future -quiet of both countries.' On which the laugh was renewed and redoubled. - -"If our people should follow the Boston example in entering into -resolutions of frugality and industry, full as necessary for us as for -them, I hope they will, among other things, give this reason, that 'tis -to enable them more speedily and effectually to discharge their debts to -Great Britain; this will soften a little, and, at the same time, appear -honourable, and like ourselves. Yours, &c., - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To Dr. Priestley._ - - "Passy, June 7, 1782. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I received your kind letter of the 7th April, also one of the 3d of -May. I have always great pleasure in hearing from you, in learning that -you are well, and that you continue your experiments. I should rejoice -much if I could once more recover the leisure to search with you into -the works of nature; I mean the inanimate or moral part of them: the -more I discovered of the former, the more I admired them; the more I -know of the latter, the more I am disgusted with them. Men I find to be -a sort of beings very badly constructed, as they are generally more -easily provoked than reconciled, more disposed to do mischief to each -other than to make reparation, much more easily deceived than -undeceived, and having more pride and even pleasure in killing than in -begetting one another. * * * In what light we are viewed by superior -beings, may be gathered from a piece of late West India news, which, -possibly, has not yet reached you. A young angel being sent down to this -world on some business for the first time, had an old courier-spirit -assigned him as a guide; they arrived over the seas of Martinico, in the -middle of the long day of obstinate fight between the fleets of Rodney -and De Grasse. When through the clouds of smoke he saw the fire of the -guns, the decks covered with mangled limbs, and bodies dead or dying, -the ships sinking, burning, or blown into the air, and the quantity of -pain, misery, and destruction, the crews yet alive were thus with so -much eagerness dealing round to one another, he turned angrily to his -guide, and said, you blundering blockhead, you are ignorant of your -business; you undertook to conduct me to the earth, and you have brought -me into hell! No, sir, says the guide, I have made no mistake; this is -really the earth, and these are men. Devils never treat one another in -this cruel manner; they have more sense, and more of what men (vainly) -call humanity. - -"But to be serious, my dear old friend, I love you as much as ever, and -I love all the honest souls that meet at the London Coffee-house. I only -wonder how it happened that they and my other friends in England came to -be such good creatures in the midst of so perverse a generation. I long -to see them and you once more, and I labour for peace with more -earnestness, that I may again be happy in your sweet society. * * * - -"Yesterday the _Count du Nord_[17] was at the Academy of Sciences, when -sundry experiments were exhibited for his entertainment; among them, one -by M. Lavoisier, to show that the strongest fire we yet know is made in -charcoal blown upon with dephlogisticated air. In a heat so produced, he -melted platina presently, the fire being much more powerful than that of -the strongest burning mirror. Adieu, and believe me ever, yours most -affectionately, - - [17] The Grand-duke of Russia, afterward the Emperor Paul I. - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_To the same._ - - "London, September 19, 1772. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"In the affair of so much importance to you, wherein you ask my advice, -I cannot, for want of sufficient premises, counsel you _what_ to -determine; but, if you please, I will tell you _how_. When those -difficult cases occur, they are difficult chiefly because, while we have -them under consideration, all the reasons, _pro_ and _con_, are not -present to the mind at the same time; but sometimes one set present -themselves, and at other times another, the first being out of sight. -Hence the various purposes or inclinations that alternately prevail, and -the uncertainty that perplexes us. To get over this, my way is, to -divide half a sheet of paper by a line into two columns, writing over -the one _pro_ and over the other _con_: then, during three or four days' -consideration, I put down under the different heads short hints of the -different motives that at different times occur to me _for_ or _against_ -the measure. When I have thus got them all together in one view, I -endeavour to estimate their respective weights, and where I find two -(one on each side), that seem equal, I strike them both out. If I find a -reason _pro_ equal to some _two_ reasons _con_ I strike out the _three_. -If I judge some _two_ reasons _con_ equal to some _three_ reasons _pro_, -I strike out the _five_; and, thus proceeding, I find at length where -the _balance_ lies; and if, after a day or two of farther consideration, -nothing new that is of importance occurs on either side, I come to a -determination accordingly. And though the weight of reasons cannot be -taken with the precision of algebraic quantities, yet, when each is thus -considered separately and comparatively, and the whole lies before me, I -think I can judge better, and am less liable to make a rash step; and, -in fact, I have found great advantage from this kind of equation, in -what may be called moral or _prudential algebra_. - -"Wishing sincerely that you may determine for the best, I am ever, my -dear friend, yours most affectionately, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Mr. Mather, Boston._ - - "London, July, 4, 1773. - -"REVEREND SIR, - -"The remarks you have added on the late proceedings against America are -very just and judicious; and I cannot see any impropriety in your making -them, though a minister of the gospel. This kingdom is a good deal -indebted for its liberties to the public spirit of its ancient clergy, -who joined with the barons in obtaining Magna Charta, and joined -heartily in forming the curses of excommunication against the infringers -of it. There is no doubt but the claim of Parliament, of authority to -make laws _binding on the colonies in all cases whatsoever_, includes an -authority to change our religious constitution, and establish popery or -Mohammedanism, if they please, in its stead; but, as you intimate, -_power_ does not infer _right_; and as the _right_ is nothing and the -_power_ (by our increase) continually diminishing, the one will soon be -as insignificant as the _other_. You seem only to have made a small -mistake in supposing they modestly avoided to declare they had a right, -the words of the act being, 'that they have, and of _right_ ought to -have, full power,' &c. - -"Your suspicion that sundry others besides Governor Bernard 'had written -hither their opinions and councils, encouraging the late measures to the -prejudice of our country, which have been too much needed and followed,' -is, I apprehend, but too well founded. You call them 'traitorous -individuals,' whence I collect that you suppose them of our own -country. There was among the twelve apostles one traitor, who betrayed -with a kiss. It should be no wonder, therefore, if among so many -thousand true patriots as New-England contains, there should be found -even twelve Judases ready to betray their country for a few paltry -pieces of silver. Their _ends_, as well as their views, ought to be -similar. But all the oppressions evidently work for our good. Providence -seems by every means intent on making us a great people. May our -virtues, public and private, grow with us and be durable, that liberty, -civil and religious, may be secured to our posterity, and to all from -every part of the Old World that take refuge among us. - -"With great esteem, and my best wishes for a long continuance of your -usefulness, I am, reverend sir, your most obedient, humble servant, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Mr. Strahan._ - - "Philadelphia, July 5, 1775. - -"You are a member of Parliament, and one of that majority which has -doomed my country to destruction. You have begun to burn our towns and -murder our people. Look upon your hands! they are stained with the blood -of your relations! You and I were long friends: you are now my enemy, -and--I am yours, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Dr. Priestley._ - - "Philadelphia, October 3, 1775 - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I am bound to sail to-morrow for the camp,[18] and, having but just -heard of this opportunity, can only write a line to say that I am well -and hearty. Tell our dear good friend, Dr. Price, who sometimes has his -doubts and despondencies about our firmness, that America is determined -and unanimous; a very few tories and placemen excepted, who will -probably soon export themselves. Britain, at the expense of three -millions, has killed one hundred and fifty Yankees this campaign, which -is 20,000_l._ a head; and at Bunker's Hill she gained a mile of ground, -half of which she lost again by our taking post on Ploughed Hill. During -the same time sixty thousand children have been born in America. From -these _data_ his mathematical head will easily calculate the time and -expense necessary to kill us all and conquer our whole territory. My -sincere repects to * *, and to the club of honest whigs at * *. Adieu. - - [18] Dr. Franklin, Colonel Harrison, and Mr. Lynch, were at this - time appointed by Congress (of which they were members) to confer - on certain subjects with General Washington. The American army was - then employed in blocking up General Howe in Boston; and it was - during this visit that General Washington communicated the - following memorable anecdote to Dr. Franklin, viz., "that there had - been a time when his army had been so destitute of military stores - as not to have powder enough in all its magazines to furnish more - than five rounds per man for their small arms." Artillery were out - of the question: they were fired now and then, only to show that - they had them. Yet this secret was kept with so much address and - good countenance from both armies, that General Washington was - enabled effectually to continue the blockade. - - "I am ever yours most affectionately, - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Mrs. Thompson, at Lisle._ - - Paris, February 8, 1777. - -"You are too early, _hussy_, as well as too saucy, in calling me -_rebel_; you should wait for the event, which will determine whether it -is a _rebellion_ or only a _revolution_. Here the ladies are more -civil; they call us _les insurgens_, a character that usually pleases -them; and methinks all other women who smart, or have smarted, under the -tyranny of a bad husband, ought to be fixed in _revolution_ principles, -and act accordingly. - -"In my way to Canada last spring, I saw dear Mrs. Barrow at New-York. -Mr. Barrow had been from her two or three months, to keep Governor Tryon -and other tories company on board the Asia, one of the king's ships -which lay in the harbour; and in all that time that naughty man had not -ventured once on shore to see her. Our troops were then pouring into the -town, and she was packing up to leave it; fearing, as she had a large -house, they would incommode her by quartering officers in it. As she -appeared in great perplexity, scarce knowing where to go, I persuaded -her to stay; and I went to the general officers then commanding there, -and recommended her to their protection; which they promised and -performed. On my return from Canada, where I was a piece of a governor -(and, I think, a very good one) for a fortnight, and might have been so -till this time if your wicked army, enemies to all good government, had -not come and driven me out, I found her still in quiet possession of her -house. I inquired how our people had behaved to her; she spoke in high -terms of the respectful attention they had paid her, and the quiet and -security they had procured her. I said I was glad of it, and that, if -they had used her ill, I would have turned tory. Then, said she (with -that pleasing gayety so natural to her), _I wish they had_. For you must -know she is a _toryess_ as well as you, and can as flippantly say -_rebel_. I drank tea with her; we talked affectionately of you and our -other friends the Wilkes, of whom she had received no late intelligence; -what became of her since, I have not heard. The street she lived in was -some months after chiefly burned down; but as the town was then, and -ever since has been, in possession of the king's troops, I have had no -opportunity of knowing whether she suffered any loss in the -conflagration. I hope she did not, as if she did, I should wish I had -not persuaded her to stay there. I am glad to learn from you, that that -unhappy but deserving family, the W.'s, are getting into some business -that may afford them subsistence. I pray that God will bless them, and -that they may see happier days. Mr. Cheap's and Dr. H.'s good fortunes -please me. Pray learn, if you have not already learned, like me, to be -pleased with other people's pleasures, and happy with their happiness -when none occur of your own; then, perhaps, you will not so soon be -weary of the place you chance to be in, and so fond of rambling to get -rid of your _ennui_. I fancy you have hit upon the right reason of your -being weary of St. Omer's, viz., that you are out of temper, which is -the effect of full living and idleness. A month in Bridewell, beating -hemp, upon bread and water, would give you health and spirits, and -subsequent cheerfulness and contentment with every other situation. I -prescribe that regimen for you, my dear, in pure good-will, without a -fee. And, let me tell you, if you do not get into temper, neither -Brussels nor Lisle will suit you. I know nothing of the price of living -in either of those places; but I am sure a single woman as you are -might, with economy, upon two hundred pounds a year, maintain herself -comfortably anywhere, and me into the bargain. Do not invite me in -earnest, however, to come and live with you, for, being posted here, I -ought not to comply, and I am not sure I should be able to refuse. -Present my respects to Mrs. Payne and Mrs. Heathcoat; for, though I have -not the honour of knowing them, yet as you say they are friends to the -American cause, I am sure they must be women of good understanding. I -know you wish you could see me, but as you can't, I will describe -myself to you. Figure me in your mind as jolly as formerly, and as -strong and hearty, only a few years older: very plainly dressed, wearing -my thin gray straight hair, that peeps out under my only _coiffure_, a -fine fur cap, which comes down my forhead almost to my spectacles. Think -how this must appear among the powdered heads of Paris! I wish every -lady and gentleman in France would only be so obliging as to follow my -fashion, comb their own heads as I do mine, dismiss their _friseurs_, -and pay me half the money they paid to them. You see the gentry might -well afford this, and I could then enlist these friseurs, (who are at -least 100,000), and with the money I would maintain them, make a visit -with them to England, and dress the heads of your ministers and privy -counsellors; which I conceive at present to be _un peu derangées_. -Adieu! madcap, and believe me ever your affectionate friend and humble -servant, - - "B. FRANKLIN. - -"P.S.--Don't be proud of this long letter. A fit of the gout, which has -confined me five days, and made me refuse to see company, has given me -little time to trifle; otherwise it would have been very short; visiters -and business would have interrupted: and, perhaps, with Mrs. Barrow, you -wish they had." - - * * * * * - -"_To Mr. Lith._ - - "Passy, near Paris, April 6, 1777. - -"SIR, - -"I have just been honoured with a letter from you, dated the 26th past, -in which you express yourself as astonished, and appear to be angry that -you have no answer to a letter you wrote me of the 11th of December, -which you are sure was delivered to me. - -"In exculpation of myself, I assure you that I never received any letter -from you of this date. And, indeed, being then but four days landed at -Nantes, I think you could scarce have heard so soon of my being in -Europe. - -"But I received one from you of the 8th of January, which I own I did -not answer. It may displease you if I give you the reason; but as it may -be of use to you in your future correspondences, I will hazard that for -a gentleman to whom I feel myself obliged, as an American, on account of -his good-will to our cause. - -"Whoever writes to a stranger should observe three points: 1. That what -he proposes be practicable. 2. His propositions should be made in -explicit terms, so as to be easily understood. 3. What he desires, -should be in itself reasonable. Hereby he will give a favourable -impression of his understanding, and create a desire of farther -acquaintance. Now it happened that you were negligent in _all_ these -points: for, first, you desired to have means procured for you of taking -a voyage to America '_avec sureté_,[19] which is not possible, as the -dangers of the sea subsist always, and at present there is the -additional danger of being taken by the English. Then you desire that -this may be '_sans trop grandes dépenses_,'[20] which is not -intelligible enough to be answered, because, not knowing your ability of -bearing expenses, one cannot judge what may be _trop grandes_. Lastly, -you desire letters of address to the Congress and to General Washington, -which it is not reasonable to ask of one who knows no more of you than -that your name is LITH, and that you live at BAYREUTH. - - [19] With safety. - - [20] Without too great expense. - -"In your last, you also express yourself in vague terms when you desire -to be informed whether you may expect '_d'étre reçu d'une maniére -cenvenable_'[21] in our troops. As it is impossible to know what your -ideas are of the _maniére convenable_, how can one answer this? And then -you demand whether I will support you by my authority in giving you -letters of recommendation. I doubt not your being a man of merit, and, -knowing it yourself, you may forget that it is not known to everybody; -but reflect a moment, sir, and you will be convinced, that if I were to -practise giving letters of recommendation to persons whose character I -knew no more than I do of yours, my recommendations would soon be of no -authority at all. - - [21] To be received in a suitable manner. - -"I thank you, however, for your kind desire of being serviceable to my -countrymen, and I wish, in return, that I could be of service to you in -the scheme you have formed of going to America. But numbers of -experienced officers here have offered to go over and join our army, and -I could give them no encouragement, because I have no orders for that -purpose, and I know it is extremely difficult to place them when they -come there. I cannot but think, therefore, that it is best for you not -to make so long, so expensive, and so hazardous a voyage, but to take -the advice of your friends and _stay in Franconia_. I have the honour to -be, sir, &c., - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_Answer to a letter from Brussels._ - - "_Passy_, July 1, 1778. - -"SIR, - -"I received your letter dated at Brussels the 16th past. - -"My vanity might possibly be flattered by your expressions of compliment -to my understanding, if your proposals did not more clearly manifest a -mean opinion of it. - -"You conjure me, in the name of the omniscient and just God, before whom -I must appear, and by my hopes of future fame, to consider if some -expedient cannot be found to put a stop to the desolation of America, -and prevent the miseries of a general war. As I am conscious of having -taken every step in my power to prevent the breach, and no one to widen -it, I can appear cheerfully before that God, fearing nothing from his -justice in this particular, though I have much occasion for his mercy in -many others. As to my future fame, I am content to rest it on my past -and present conduct, without seeking an addition to it in the crooked, -dark paths you propose to me, where I should most certainly lose it. -This your solemn address would, therefore, have been more properly made -to your sovereign and his venal parliament. He and they, who wickedly -began and madly continue a war for the desolation of America, are -accountable for the consequences. - -"You endeavour to impress me with a bad opinion of French faith; but the -instances of their friendly endeavours to serve a race of weak princes, -who by their own imprudence defeated every attempt to promote their -interest, weigh but little with me when I consider the steady friendship -of France to the thirteen United States of Switzerland, which has now -continued inviolate two hundred years. You tell me that she will -certainly cheat us, and that she despises us already. I do not believe -that she will cheat us, and I am not certain that she despises us: but I -see clearly that you are endeavouring to cheat us by your conciliatory -bills; that you actually despised our understandings when you flattered -yourselves those artifices would succeed; and that not only France, but -all Europe, yourselves included, most certainly and for ever, would -despise us if we were weak enough to accept your insidious -propositions. - -"Our expectations of the future grandeur of America are not so -magnificent, and, therefore, not so vain and visionary, as you represent -them to be. The body of our people are not merchants, but humble -husbandmen, who delight in the cultivation of their lands, which, from -their fertility and the variety of our climates, are capable of -furnishing all the necessaries of life without external commerce; and we -have too much land to have the slightest temptation to extend our -territory by conquest from peaceable neighbours, as well as too much -justice to think of it. Our militia, you find by experience, are -sufficient to defend our lands from invasion; and the commerce with us -will be defended by all the nations who find an advantage in it. We -therefore have not the occasion you imagine, of fleets or standing -armies, but may leave those expensive machines to be maintained for the -pomp of princes and the wealth of ancient states. We propose, if -possible, to live in peace with all mankind; and, after you have been -convinced, to your cost, that there is nothing to be got by attacking -us, we have reason to hope that no other power will judge it prudent to -quarrel with us, lest they divert us from our own quiet industry, and -turn us into corsairs preying upon theirs. The weight, therefore, of an -independent empire, which you seem certain of our inability to bear, -will not be so great as you imagine. The expense of our civil government -we have always borne, and can easily bear, because it is small. A -virtuous and laborious people may be cheaply governed. Determining as we -do to have no offices of profit, nor any sinecures or useless -appointments, so common in ancient and corrupted states, we can govern -ourselves a year for the sum you pay in a single department, or for what -one jobbing contractor, by the favour of a minister, can cheat you out -of in a single article. - -"You think we flatter ourselves, and are deceived into an opinion that -England _must_ acknowledge our independence. We, on the other hand, -think you flatter yourselves in imagining such an acknowledgment a vast -boon which we strongly desire, and which you may gain some great -advantage by granting or withholding. We have never asked it of you. We -only tell you that you can have no treaty with us but as an independent -state; and you may please yourselves and your children with the rattle -of your right to govern us, as long as you have with that of your king -being king of France, without giving us the least concern if you do not -attempt to exercise it. That this pretended right is indisputable, as -you say, we utterly deny. Your parliament never had a right to govern -us, and your king has forfeited it by his bloody tyranny. But I thank -you for letting me know a little of your mind, that even if the -Parliament should acknowledge our independence, the act would not be -binding to posterity, and that your nation would resume and prosecute -the claim as soon as they found it convenient from the influence of your -passions and your present malice against us. We suspected before that -you would not be bound by your conciliatory acts longer than till they -had served their purpose of inducing us to disband our forces; but we -were not certain that you were knaves by principle, and that we ought -not to have the least confidence in your offers, promises, or treaties, -though confirmed by Parliament. I now indeed recollect my being -informed, long since, when in England, that a certain very great -personage, then young, studied much a certain book, entitled _Arcana -imperii_ [_Secrets of governing_]. I had the curiosity to procure the -book and read it. There are sensible and good things in it, but some bad -ones; for, if I remember right, a particular king is applauded for his -politically exciting a rebellion among his subjects at a time when they -had not strength to support it, that he might, in subduing them, take -away their privileges which were troublesome to him: and a question is -formally stated and discussed, _Whether a prince, to appease a revolt, -makes promises of indemnity to the revolters, is obliged to fulfil those -promises?_ Honest and good men would say ay; but this politician says as -you say, no. And he gives this pretty reason, that though it was right -to make the promises, because otherwise the revolt would not be -suppressed, yet it would be wrong to keep them, because revolters ought -to be punished to deter future revolts. If these are the principles of -your nation, no confidence can be placed in you; it is in vain to treat -with you, and the wars can only end in being reduced to an utter -inability of continuing them. - -"One main drift of your letter seems to be to impress me with an idea of -your own impartiality, by just censures of your ministers and measures, -and to draw from me propositions of peace, or approbations of those you -have enclosed me, which you intimate may by your means be conveyed to -the king directly, without the intervention of those ministers. Would -you have me give them to, or drop them for a stranger I may find next -Monday in the Church of Notre Dame, to be known by a rose in his hat? -You yourself, sir, are quite unknown to me; you have not trusted me with -your right name. Our taking the least step towards a treaty with -England, through you, might, if you are an enemy, be made use of to ruin -us with our new and good friends. I may be indiscreet enough in many -things, but certainly, if I were disposed to make propositions (which I -cannot do, having none committed to me to make), I should never think of -delivering them to the Lord knows who, to be carried the Lord knows -where, to serve no one knows what purposes. Being at this time one of -the most remarkable figures in Paris, even my appearance in the Church -of Notre Dame, where I cannot have any conceivable business, and -especially being seen to leave or drop any letter to any person there -would be a matter of some speculation, and might, from the suspicions it -must naturally give, have very mischievous consequences to our credit -here. The very proposing of a correspondence so to be managed, in a -manner not necessary where _fair dealing_ is intended, gives just reason -to suppose you intend the _contrary_. Besides, as your court has sent -commissioners to treat with the Congress, with all the powers that would -be given them by the crown under the act of Parliament, what _good -purpose_ can be served by privately obtaining propositions from us? -Before those commissioners went, we might have treated in virtue of our -general powers (with the knowledge, advice, and approbation of our -friends), upon any propositions made to us. But, under the present -circumstances, for us to make propositions while a treaty is supposed to -be actually on foot with the Congress, would be extremely improper, -highly presumptuous with regard to our honourable constituents, and -answer no good end whatever. - -"I write this letter to you, notwithstanding (which I think I can convey -in a less mysterious manner; and guess it may come to your hands); I -write it because I would let you know our sense of your procedure, which -appears as insidious as that of your conciliatory bills. Your true way -to obtain peace, if your ministers desire it, is to propose openly to -the Congress fair and equal terms; and you may possibly come sooner to -such a resolution, when you find that personal flatteries, general -cajolings, and panegyrics on our _virtue_ and _wisdom_ are not likely to -have the effect you seem to expect; the persuading us to act _basely_ -and _foolishly_ in betraying our country and posterity into the hands -of our most bitter enemies; giving up or selling of our arms and -warlike stores, dismissing our ships of war and troops, and putting -those enemies in possession of our forts and ports. This proposition of -delivering ourselves, bound and gagged, ready for hanging, without even -a right to complain, and without even a friend to be found afterward -among all mankind, you would have us embrace on the faith of an act of -Parliament! Good God! an act of your Parliament! This demonstrates that -you do not yet know us, and that you fancy we do not know you: but it is -not merely this flimsy faith that we are to act upon; you offer us -_hope_, the hope of PLACES, PENSIONS, and PEERAGE. These, judging from -yourselves, you think are motives irresistible. This offer to corrupt -us, sir, is with me your credential, and convinces me that you are not a -private volunteer in your application. It bears the stamp of British -court intrigue, and the signature of your king. But think for a moment -in what light it must be viewed in America. By places which cannot come -among us, for you take care by a special article to keep them to -yourselves. We must then pay the salaries in order to enrich ourselves -with these places. But you will give us PENSIONS; probably to be paid, -too, out of your expected American revenue; and which none of us can -accept without deserving, and, perhaps, obtaining a _suspension_. -PEERAGES! Alas! sir, our long observation of the vast servile majority -of your peers, voting constantly for every measure proposed by a -minister, however weak or wicked, leaves us small respect for them, and -we consider it a sort of tar-and-feathered honour, or a mixture of -foulness and folly; which every man among us who should accept from your -king, would be obliged to renounce or exchange for that conferred by the -mobs of their own country, or wear it with everlasting shame. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Dr. Price, London._ - - "Passy, February 6, 1780. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I received but very lately your kind favour of October 14. Dr. -Ingenhausz, who brought it, having stayed long in Holland. I sent the -enclosed directly to Mr. L. It gave me great pleasure to understand that -you continue well. Your writings, after all the abuse you and they have -met with, begin to make serious impressions on those who at first -rejected the counsels you gave; and they will acquire new weight every -day, and be in high esteem when the cavils against them are dead and -forgotten. Please to present my affectionate respects to that honest, -sensible, and intelligent society, who did me so long the honour of -admitting me to share in their instructive conversations. I never think -of the hours I so happily spent in that company, without regretting that -they are never to be repeated; for I see no prospect of an end to this -unhappy war in my time. Dr. Priestley, you tell me, continues his -experiments with success. We make daily great improvements in -_natural_--there is one I wish to see in _moral_ philosophy; the -discovery of a plan that would induce and oblige nations to settle their -disputes without first cutting one another's throats. When will human -reason be sufficiently improved to see the advantage of this? When will -men be convinced that even successful wars at length become misfortunes -to those who unjustly commenced them, and who triumphed blindly in their -success, not seeing all its consequences. Your great comfort and mine in -this war is, that we honestly and faithfully did everything in our power -to prevent it. Adieu, and believe me ever, my dear friend, yours, &c., - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Dr. Priestley._ - - "Passy, February 8, 1780. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"Your kind letter of September 27 came to hand but very lately, the -bearer having stayed long in Holland. - -"I always rejoice to hear of your being still employed in experimental -researches into nature, and of the success you meet with. The rapid -progress _true_ science now makes, occasions my regretting sometimes -that I was born so soon: it is impossible to imagine the height to which -may be carried, in a thousand years, the power of man over matter; we -may perhaps learn to deprive large masses of their gravity, and give -them absolute levity for the sake of easy transport. Agriculture may -diminish its labour and double its produce; all diseases may by sure -means be prevented or cured (not excepting even that of old age), and -our lives lengthened at pleasure even beyond the antediluvian standard. -Oh! that moral science were in as fair a way of improvement; that men -would cease to be wolves to one another; and that human beings would at -length learn what they now improperly call humanity! - -"I am glad that my little paper on the Aurora Borealis pleased. If it -should occasion farther inquiry, and so produce a better hypothesis, it -will not be wholly useless. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - - [Enclosed in the foregoing letter; being an answer to a separate - paper received from Dr. Priestley] - -"I have considered the situation of that person very attentively; I -think that, with a little help from the _Moral Algebra_, he might form -a better judgment than any other person can form for him. But, since my -opinion seems to be desired, I give it for continuing to the end of the -term, under all the present disagreeable circumstances: the connexion -will then die a natural death. No reason will be expected to be given -for the separation, and, of course, no offence taken at reasons given; -the friendship may still subsist, and, in some other way, be useful. The -time diminishes daily, and is usefully employed. All human situations -have their inconveniences; we _feel_ those that we find in the present, -and we neither _feel_ nor _see_ those that exist in another. Hence we -make frequent and troublesome changes without amendment, and often for -the worse. In my youth, I was passenger in a little sloop descending the -river Delaware. There being no wind, we were obliged, when the ebb was -spent, to cast anchor and wait for the next. The heat of the sun on the -vessel was excessive, the company strangers to me, and not very -agreeable. Near the river-side I saw what I took to be a pleasant green -meadow, in the middle of which was a large shady tree, where it struck -my fancy I could sit and read (having a book in my pocket), and pass the -time agreeably till the tide turned; I therefore prevailed with the -captain to put me ashore. Being landed, I found the greatest part of my -meadow was really a marsh, in crossing which, to come at my tree, I was -up to my knees in mire: and I had not placed myself under its shade five -minutes before the moschetoes in swarms found me out, attacked my legs, -hands, and face, and made my reading and my rest impossible; so that I -returned to the beach, and called for the boat to come and take me on -board again, where I was obliged to bear the heat I had strove to quit, -and also the laugh of the company. Similar cases in the affairs of life -have since frequently fallen under my observation. - -"I have had thoughts of a college for him in America; I know no one who -might be more useful to the public in the institution of youth. But -there are possible unpleasantnesses in that situation: it cannot be -obtained but by a too hazardous voyage at this time for a family: and -the time for experiments would be all otherwise engaged. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To General Washington._ - - "Passy, March 5, 1780 - -"SIR, - -"I received but lately the letter your excellency did me the honour of -writing to me in recommendation of the Marquis de Lafayette. His modesty -detained it long in his own hands. We became acquainted, however, from -the time of his arrival at Paris; and his zeal for the honour of our -country, his activity in our affairs here, and his firm attachment to -our cause and to you, impressed me with the same regard and esteem for -him that your excellency's letter would have done had it been -immediately delivered to me. - -"Should peace arrive after another campaign or two, and afford us a -little leisure, I should be happy to see your excellency in Europe, and -to accompany you, if my age and strength would permit, in visiting some -of its most ancient and famous kingdoms. You would, on this side the -sea, enjoy the great reputation you have acquired, pure and free from -those little shades that the jealousy and envy of a man's countrymen and -contemporaries are ever endeavouring to cast over living merit. Here you -would know and enjoy what posterity will say of Washington. For a -thousand leagues have nearly the same effect with a thousand years. The -feeble voice of those grovelling passions cannot extend so far either -in time or distance. At present I enjoy that pleasure for you, as I -frequently hear the old generals of this martial country (who study the -maps of America, and mark upon them all your operations) speak with -sincere approbation and great applause of your conduct, and join in -giving you the character of one of the greatest captains of the age. - -"I must soon quit the scene, but you may live to see our country -flourish, as it will amazingly and rapidly after the war is over. Like a -field of young Indian corn, which long fair weather and sunshine had -enfeebled and discoloured, and which in that weak state, by a -thunder-gust of violent wind, hail, and rain, seemed to be threatened -with absolute destruction; yet the storm being past, it recovers fresh -verdure, shoots up with double vigour, and delights the eye not of its -owner only, but of every observing traveller. - -"The best wishes that can be formed for your health, honour, and -happiness, ever attend you, from yours, &c., - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To M. Court de Gebelin,[22] Paris._ - - [22] Antoine Court de Gebelin, born at Nismes in 1725, became a - minister of a Protestant communion in the Cevennes, then at - Lausanne: he quitted the clerical function for literature, at - Paris, where he acquired so great a reputation as an antiquary and - philosopher that he was appointed to attend one of the museums. His - reputation suffered by his zeal in favour of animal magnetism. He - died at Paris, May 13, 1784. His great work is entitled, "Monde - Primitif, analysé et comparé avec le Monde Moderne," 9 tom. 4to. - The excellence of his character may be appreciated from the fact, - that, on quitting Switzerland, he voluntarily gave to his sister - the principal part of his patrimony, reserving but little for - himself, and relying for a maintenance upon the exercise of his - talents. - - - "Passy, May 7, 1781. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I am glad the little book[23] proved acceptable. It does not appear to -me intended for a grammar to teach the language. It is rather what we -call in English a _spelling-book_, in which the only method observed is -to arrange the words according to their number of syllables, placing -those of one syllable together, and those of two syllables, and so on. -And it is to be observed that _Sa ki ma_, for instance, is not three -words, but one word of three syllables; and the reason that _hyphens_ -are not placed between the syllables is, that the printer had not enough -of them. - - [23] A Vocabulary of the Language of one of the Indian Tribes in - North America. - -"As the Indians had no letters, they had no orthography. The Delaware -language being differently spelt from the Virginian, may not always -arise from a difference in the languages; for strangers who learn the -language of an Indian nation, finding no orthography, are at liberty, in -writing the language, to use such compositions of letters as they think -will best produce the sounds of the words. I have observed that our -Europeans of different nations, who learn the same Indian language, -form each his own orthography according to the usual sounds given to -the letters in his own language. Thus the same words of the Mohock -language written by an English, a French, and a German interpreter, -often differ very much in the spelling; and without knowing the usual -powers of the letters in the language of the interpreter, one cannot -come at the pronunciation of the Indian words. The spelling-book in -question was, I think, written by a German. - -"You mention a Virginian Bible. Is it not the Bible of the Massachusetts -language, translated by Elliot, and printed in New-England about the -middle of the last century? I know this Bible, but have never heard of -one in the Virginian language. Your observation of the similitude -between many of the words and those of the ancient world, are indeed -very curious. - -"This inscription, which you find to be Phoenician, is, I think, near -_Taunton_ (not Jannston, as you write it). There is some account of it -in the old Philosophical Transactions; I have never been at the place, -but shall be glad to see your remarks on it. - -"The compass appears to have been long known in China before it was -known in Europe; unless we suppose it known to Homer, who makes the -prince that lent ships to Ulysses boast that they had a _spirit_ in -them, by whose directions they could find their way in a cloudy day or -the darkest night. If any Phoenicians arrived in America, I should -rather think it was not by the accident of a storm, but in the course of -their long and adventurous voyages; and that they coasted from Denmark -and Norway, over to Greenland, and down southward by Newfoundland, Nova -Scotia, &c., to New-England, as the Danes themselves certainly did some -ages before Columbus. - -"Our new American society will be happy in the correspondence you -mention; and when it is possible for me, I shall be glad to attend the -meetings of your society,[24] which I am sure must be very instructive. - - [24] L'Academie des Inscriptions et Belles Letters. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To Francis Hopkinson, Philadelphia._ - - "Passy, September 13, 1781. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I have received your kind letter of July 17, with its duplicate, -enclosing those for Messrs. Brandlight and Sons, which I have forwarded. -I am sorry for the loss of the _squibs_. Everything of yours gives me -pleasure. - -"As to the friends and enemies you just mention, I have hitherto, thanks -to God, had plenty of the former kind; they have been my treasure; and -it has, perhaps, been of no disadvantage to me that I have had a few of -the latter. They serve to put us upon correcting the faults we have, and -avoiding those we are in danger of having. They counter-act the mischief -flattery might do us, and their malicious attacks make our friends more -zealous in serving us and promoting our interest. At present I do not -know of more than two such enemies that I enjoy, viz., *** and ***. I -deserved the enmity of the latter, because I might have avoided it by -paying him a compliment, which I neglected. That to the former I owe to -the people of France, who happened to respect me too much and him too -little; which I could bear, and he could not. They are unhappy that they -cannot make everybody hate me as much as they do; and I should be so if -my friends did not love me much more than those gentlemen can possibly -love one another. - -"Enough of this subject. Let me know if you are in possession of my -gimcrack instruments, and if you have made any new experiments. I lent, -many years ago, a large glass globe, mounted, to Mr. Coombe, and an -electric battery of bottles, which I remember; perhaps there were some -other things. He may have had them so long as to think them his own. -Pray ask him for them, and keep them for me, together with the rest. - -"You have a new crop of prose writers. I see in your papers many of -their fictitious names, but nobody tells me the real. You will oblige me -by a little of your literary history. Adieu, my dear friend, and believe -me ever, yours affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To Francis Hopkinson._ - - "Paris, Dec 24, 1782. - -"I thank you for your ingenious paper in favour of the trees. I own I -now wish we had two rows of them in every one of our streets. The -comfortable shelter they would afford us when walking from our burning -summer suns, and the greater coolness of our walls and pavements, would, -I conceive, in the improved health of the inhabitants, amply compensate -the loss of a house now and then by fire, if such should be the -consequence; but a tree is soon felled, and, as axes are near at hand in -every neighbourhood, may be down before the engines arrive. - -"You do well to avoid being concerned in the pieces of personal abuse, -so scandalously common in our newspapers, that I am afraid to lend any -of them here till I have examined and laid aside such as would disgrace -us, and subject us among strangers to a reflection like that used by a -gentleman in a coffee-house to two quarrellers, who, after a mutually -free use of the words rogue, villain, rascal scoundrel, &c., seemed as -if they would refer their dispute to him: 'I know nothing of you or your -affairs,' said he; 'I only perceive _that you know one another_.' - -"The conductor of a newspaper should, methinks, consider himself as in -some degree the guardian of his country's reputation, and refuse to -insert such writings as may hurt it. If people will print their abuses -of one another, let them do it in little pamphlets, and distribute them -where they think proper. It is absurd to trouble all the world with -them, and unjust to subscribers in distant places, to stuff their paper -with matter so unprofitable and so disagreeable. With sincere esteem and -affection, I am, my dear friend, ever yours, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Samuel Huntingdon, President of Congress._ - - "Passy, March 12, 1781. - -SIR, - -I had the honour of receiving, on the 13th of last month, your -excellency's letter of the 1st of January, together with the -instructions of November 28th and December 27th, a copy of those to -Colonel Laurens, and the letter to the king. I immediately drew up a -memorial, enforcing as strongly as I could the request contained in that -letter, and directed by the instructions, and delivered the same with -the letter, which were both well received. * * * - -"I must now beg leave to say something relating to myself, a subject -with which I have not often troubled the Congress. I have passed my -seventy-fifth year, and I find that the long and severe fit of the gout -which I had the last winter has shaken me exceedingly, and I am yet far -from having recovered the bodily strength I before enjoyed. I do not -know that my mental faculties are impaired. Perhaps I shall be the last -to discover that; but I am sensible of great diminution in my activity, -a quality I think particularly necessary in your minister at this court. -I am afraid, therefore, that your affairs may some time or other suffer -by my deficiency. I find also that the business is too heavy for me, and -too confining. The constant attendance at home, which is necessary for -receiving and accepting your bills of exchange (a matter foreign to my -_ministerial functions_), to answer letters, and perform other parts of -my employment, prevents my taking the air and exercise which my annual -journeys formerly used to afford me, and which contributed much to the -preservation of my health. There are many other little personal -attentions which the infirmities of age render necessary to an old man's -comfort, even in some degree to the continuance of his existence, and -with which business often interferes. I have been engaged in public -affairs, and enjoyed public confidence in some shape or other during the -long term of fifty years, an honour sufficient to satisfy any reasonable -ambition, and I have no other left but that of repose, which I hope the -Congress will grant me by sending some person to supply my place. - -"At the same time, I beg they may be assured that it is not any the -least doubt of their success in the glorious cause, nor any disgust -received in their service, that induces me to decline it, but purely and -simply the reasons above mentioned; and as I cannot at present undergo -the fatigues of a sea voyage (the last having been almost too much for -me), and would not again expose myself to the hazard of capture and -imprisonment in this time of war, I purpose to remain here at least till -the peace; perhaps it may be for the remainder of my life; and if any -knowledge or experience I have acquired here may be thought of use to my -successor, I shall freely communicate it, and assist him with any -influence I may be supposed to have or counsel that may be desired of -me." - - * * * * * - -"_To the Bishop of St. Asaph._[25] - - [25] Jonathan Shipley took his degrees at Christ Church, and in - 1743 was made prebendary of Winchester. After travelling in 1745 - with the Duke of Cumberland, he was promoted in 1749 to a canonry - at Christ Church, became dean of Winchester in 1760, and 1769 - bishop of St. Asaph. He was author of some elegant verses on the - death of Queen Caroline, and published besides some poems and - sermons, and died 1788. He was an ardent friend of American - independence. - - "Passy, June 10, 1782. - -"I received and read the letter from my dear and much respected friend -with infinite pleasure. After so long a silence, and the long -continuance of its unfortunate causes, a line from you was a prognostic -of happier times approaching, when we may converse and communicate -freely, without danger from the malevolence of men enraged by the -ill-success of their distracted projects. - -"I long with you for the return of peace, on the general principles of -humanity. The hope of being able to pass a few more of my last days -happily in the sweet conversations and company I once enjoyed at -Twyford,[26] is a particular motive that adds strength to the general -wish, and quickens my industry to procure that best of blessings. After -much occasion to consider the folly and mischiefs of a state of warfare, -and the little or no advantage obtained even by those nations who have -conducted it with the most success, I have been apt to think that there -has never been, nor ever will be, any such thing as a _good_ war or a -_bad_ peace. - - [26] The country residence of the bishop. - -"You ask if I still relish my old studies? I relish them, but I cannot -pursue them. My time is engrossed, unhappily, with other concerns. I -requested from the Congress last year my discharge from this public -station, that I might enjoy a little leisure in the evening of a long -life of business; but it was refused me, and I have been obliged to -drudge on a little longer. - -"You are happy, as your years come on, in having that dear and most -amiable family about you. Four daughters! how rich! I have but one, and -she necessarily detained from me at a thousand leagues' distance. I feel -the want of that tender care of me which might be expected from a -daughter, and would give the world for one. Your shades are all placed -in a row over my fireplace, so that I not only have you always in my -mind, but constantly before my eyes. - -"The cause of liberty and America has been greatly obliged to you. I -hope you will live long to see that country flourish under its new -constitution, which I am sure will give you great pleasure. Will you -permit me to express another hope that, now your friends are in power, -they will take the first opportunity of showing the sense they ought to -have of your virtues and your merit? - -"Please to make my best respects acceptable to Mrs. Shipley, and embrace -for me tenderly all our dear children. With the utmost esteem, respect, -and veneration, I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Miss Alexander._ - - "Passy, June 27, 1782. - -"I am not at all displeased that the thesis and dedication with which we -were threatened are blown over, for I dislike much all sorts of mummery. -The republic of letters has gained no reputation, whatever else it may -have gained, by the commerce of dedications; I never made one, and -never desired that one should be made to me. When I submitted to receive -this, it was from the bad habit I have long had, of doing everything -that ladies desire me to do: there is no refusing anything to Madame la -Marck nor to you. - -"I have been to pay my respects to that amiable lady, not merely because -it was a compliment due to her, but because I love her: which induces me -to excuse her not letting me in; the same reason I should have for -excusing your faults, if you had any. I have not seen your papa since -the receipt of your pleasing letter, so could arrange nothing with him -respecting the carriage. During seven or eight days I shall be very -busy; after that, you shall hear from me, and the carriage shall be at -your service. How could you think of writing to me about chimneys and -fires in such weather as this! Now is the time for the frugal lady you -mention to save her wood, obtain _plus de chaleur_, and lay it up -against winter, as people do ice against summer. Frugality is an -enriching virtue, a virtue I never could acquire in myself, but I was -once lucky enough to find it in a wife, who thereby became a fortune to -me. Do you possess it? If you do, and I were twenty years younger, I -would give your father one thousand guineas for you. I know you would be -worth more to me as a _menagére_. I am covetous, and love good bargains. -Adieu, my dear friend, and believe me ever yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Benjamin Vaughan._ - - "Passy, July 10, 1782. - -"By the original law of nations, war and extirpation was the punishment -of injury. Humanizing by degrees, it admitted slavery instead of death. -A farther step was the exchange of prisoners instead of slavery. -Another, to respect more the property of private persons under conquest, -and to be content with acquired dominion. Why should not the law of -nations go on improving? Ages have intervened between its several steps; -but, as knowledge of late increases rapidly, why should not those steps -be quickened? Why should it not be agreed to as the future law of -nations, that in any war hereafter the following descriptions of men -should be undisturbed, have the protection of both sides, and be -permitted to follow their employments in surety; viz., - -"1. Cultivators of the earth, because they labour for the subsistence of -mankind. - -"2. Fishermen, for the same reason. - -"3. Merchants and traders in unarmed ships, who accommodate different -nations by communicating and exchanging the necessaries and conveniences -of life. - -"4. Artists and mechanics, inhabiting and working in open towns. - -"It is hardly necessary to add, that the hospitals of enemies should be -unmolested; they ought to be assisted. - -"In short, I would have nobody fought with but those who are paid for -fighting. If obliged to take corn from the farmer, friend or enemy, I -would pay him for it; the same for the fish or goods of the others. - -"This once established, that encouragement to war which arises from a -spirit of rapine would be taken away, and peace, therefore, more likely -to continue and be lasting. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Mrs. Hewson._[27] - - [27] Widow of the eminent anatomist of that name, and formerly Miss - Stevenson, to whom several of Dr. Franklin's letters on - Philosophical subjects are addressed. - - "Passy, January 27, 1783. - -"The departure of my dearest friend,[28] which I learn from your last -letter, greatly affects me. To meet with her once more in this life was -one of the principal motives of my proposing to visit England again -before my return to America. The last year carried off my friends Dr. -Pringle and Dr. Fothergill, and Lord Kaimes and Lord Le Despencer; this -has begun to take away the rest, and strikes the hardest. Thus the ties -I had to that country, and, indeed, to the world in general, are -loosened one by one, and I shall soon have no attachment left to make me -unwilling to follow. - - [28] Refers to Mrs. Hewson's mother. - -"I intended writing when I sent the eleven books, but lost the time in -looking for the first. I wrote with that, and hope it came to hand. I -therein asked your counsel about my coming to England: on reflection, I -think I can, from my knowledge of your prudence, foresee what it will -be; viz., not to come too soon, lest it should seem braving and -insulting some who ought to be respected. I shall therefore omit that -journey till I am near going to America, and then just step over to take -leave of my friends, and spend a few days with you. I purpose -bringing[29] Ben with me, and perhaps may leave him under your care. - - [29] Benjamin Franklin Bache, a grandson of Dr. Franklin, by his - daughter Sarah; he was the first editor of the AURORA at - Philadelphia: died of yellow fever in September, 1798. - -"At length we are in peace, God be praised; and long, very long may it -continue. All wars are follies, very expensive and very mischievous -ones: when will mankind be convinced of this, and agree to settle their -differences by arbitration? Were they to do it even by the cast of a -die, it would be better than by fighting and destroying each other. - -"Spring is coming on, when travelling will be delightful. Can you not, -when your children are all at school, make a little party and take a -trip hither? I have now a large house, delightfully situated, in which I -could accommodate you and two or three friends; and I am but half an -hour's drive from Paris. - -"In looking forward, twenty five years seems a long period; but in -looking back, how short! Could you imagine that 'tis now full a quarter -of a century since we were first acquainted! it was in 1757. During the -greatest part of the time I lived in the same house with my dear -deceased friend your mother; of course you and I saw and conversed with -each other much and often. It is to all our honours, that in all that -time we never had among us the smallest misunderstanding. Our friendship -has been all clear sunshine, without the least cloud in its hemisphere. -Let me conclude by saying to you what I have had too frequent occasion -to say to my other remaining old friends, _the fewer we become, the more -let us love one another_. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To David Hartley._ - - "Passy, May 8, 1783. - -"DEAR FRIEND, - -"I send you enclosed the copies you desired of the papers I read to you -yesterday.[30] I should be happy if I could see, before I die, the -proposed improvement of the law of nations established. The miseries of -mankind would be diminished by it, and the happiness of millions secured -and promoted. If the practice of _privateering_ could be profitable to -any civilized nation, it might be so to us Americans, since we are so -situated on the globe as that the rich commerce of Europe with the West -Indies, consisting of manufactures, sugars, &c., is obliged to pass -before our doors, which enables us to make short and cheap cruises, -while our own commerce is in such bulky, low-priced articles, as that -ten of our ships taken by you are not equal in value to one of yours, -and you must come far from home at a great expense to look for them. I -hope, therefore, that this proposition, if made by us, will appear in -its true light, as having humanity only for its motive. I do not wish to -see a new Barbary rising in America, and our long-extended coast -occupied by piratical states. I fear lest our privateering success in -the last two wars should already have given our people too strong a -relish for that most mischievous kind of gaming, mixed blood; and if a -stop is not now put to the practice, mankind may hereafter be more -plagued with American corsairs than they have been and are with the -Turkish. Try, my friend, what you can do in procuring for your nation -the glory of being, though the greatest naval power, the first who -voluntarily relinquished the advantage that power seems to give them, of -plundering others, and thereby impeding the mutual communications among -men of the gifts of God, and rendering miserable multitudes of merchants -and their families, artisans, and cultivators of the earth, the most -peaceable and innocent part of the human species. - - [30] See the Proposition about Privateering, annexed to letter to - R. Oswald. January 14, 1783. - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Dr. Percival._ - - "Passy, July 17, 1784. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I received yesterday, by Mr. White, your kind letter of May 11th, with -the most agreeable present of your new book. I read it all before I -slept, which is a proof of the good effects your happy manner has of -drawing your reader on, by mixing little anecdotes and historical facts -with your instructions. Be pleased to accept my grateful acknowledgments -for the pleasure it has afforded me. - -"It is astonishing that the murderous practice of duelling, which you so -justly condemn, should continue so long in vogue. Formerly, when duels -were used to determine lawsuits, from an opinion that Providence would -in every instance favour truth and right with victory, they were -excusable. At present they decide nothing. A man says something which -another tells him is a lie. They fight; but, whichever is killed, the -point in dispute remains unsettled. * * * How can such miserable sinners -as we are entertain so much pride as to conceit that every offence -against our imagined honour merits _death_? These petty princes, in -their own opinion, would call that sovereign a tyrant who would put one -of them to death for a little uncivil language, though pointed at his -sacred person: yet every one of them makes himself judge in his own -cause, condemns the offender without a jury, and undertakes himself to -be the executioner. - -"With sincere and great esteem, I have the honour to be, sir, your most -obedient and humble servant, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Sir Joseph Banks._ - - "Passy, July 27, 1783. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I received your very kind letter by Dr. Blagden, and esteem myself much -honoured by your friendly remembrance. I have been too much and too -closely engaged in public affairs since his being here to enjoy all the -benefit of his conversation you were so good as to intend me. I hope -soon to have more leisure, and to spend a part of it in those studies -that are much more agreeable to me than political operations. - -"I join with you most cordially in rejoicing at the return of peace. I -hope it will be lasting, and that mankind will at length, as they call -themselves reasonable creatures, have reason and sense enough to settle -their differences without cutting throats: for, in my opinion, _there -never was a good war nor a bad peace_. What vast additions to the -conveniences and comforts of living might mankind have acquired, if the -money spent in wars had been employed in works of public utility. What -an extension of agriculture even to the tops of our mountains; what -rivers rendered navigable, or joined by canals; what bridges, aqueducts, -new roads, and other public works, edifices and improvements, rendering -England a complete paradise, might not have been obtained, by spending -those millions in doing good which in the last war have been spent in -doing mischief; in bringing misery into thousands of families, and -destroying the lives of so many thousands of working people, who might -have performed the useful labour! - -"I am pleased with the late astronomical discoveries made by our -society. Furnished as all Europe now is with academies of science, with -nice instruments and the spirit of experiment, the progress of human -knowledge will be rapid, and discoveries made of which we have at -present no conception. I begin to be almost sorry I was born so soon, -since I cannot have the happiness of knowing what will be known one -hundred years hence. - -"I wish continued success to the labours of the Royal Society, and that -you may long adorn their chair; being, with the highest esteem, dear -sir, &c. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - -"Dr. Blagden will acquaint you with the experiment of a vast globe sent -up into the air, much talked of here, and which, if prosecuted, may -furnish means of new knowledge." - - * * * * * - -"_Robert Morris, Esq._ - -(Superintendent of Finances, United States.) - - "Passy, Dec. 25, 1783. - -"The remissness of our people in paying taxes is highly blameable, the -unwillingness to pay them is still more so. I see in some resolutions of -town meetings a remonstrance against giving Congress a power to take, as -they call it, _the people's money_ out of their pockets, though only to -pay the interest and principal of debts duly contracted. They seem to -mistake the point. Money justly due from the people is their creditor's -money, and no longer the money of the people, who, if they withhold it, -should be compelled to pay by some law. All property, indeed, except the -savages' temporary cabin, his bow, his matchuat, and other little -acquisitions absolutely necessary for his subsistence, seems to me to be -the creature of public convention. Hence the public has the right of -regulating descents, and all other conveyances of property, and even of -limiting the quantity and the uses of it. All the property that is -necessary to a man for the conservation of the individual and the -propagation of the species, is his natural right, which none can justly -deprive him of; but all property superfluous to such purposes is the -property of the public, who, by their laws, have created it, and who may -therefore, by other laws, dispose of it whenever the welfare of the -public shall desire such disposition. He that does not like civil -society on these terms, let him retire and live among savages. He can -have no right to the benefits of society who will not pay his club -towards the support of it. - -"The Marquis de Lafayette, who loves to be employed in our affairs, and -is often very useful, has lately had several conversations with the -ministers and persons concerned in forming new regulations respecting -the commerce between our two countries, which are not yet concluded. I -thought it therefore, well to communicate to him a copy of your letter -which contains so many sensible and just observations on that subject. -He will make a proper use of them, and perhaps they may have more -weight, as appearing to come from a Frenchman, than they would have if -it were known that they were the observations of an American. I -perfectly agree with all the sentiments you have expressed on this -occasion. - -"I am sorry, for the public's sake, that you are about to quit your -office, but on personal considerations I shall congratulate you. For I -cannot conceive of a more happy man than he who, having been long loaded -with public cares, finds himself relieved from them, and enjoying -private repose in the bosom of his friends and family. - -"With sincere regard and attachment, I am ever, dear sir, yours, &c., - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To Dr. Mather, Boston._ - - "Passy, May 12, 1784. - -"REV. SIR, - -"I received your kind letter with your excellent advice to the people of -the United States, which I read with great pleasure, and hope it will be -duly regarded. Such writings, though they may be lightly passed over by -many readers, yet if they make a deep impression on one active mind in a -hundred, the effects may be considerable. Permit me to mention one -little instance, which, though it relates to myself, will not be quite -uninteresting to you. When I was a boy I met with a book entitled -_Essays to do Good_, which I think was written by your father. It had -been so little regarded by a former possessor, that several leaves of it -were torn out: but the remainder gave me such a turn of thinking as to -have an influence on my conduct through life; for I have always set a -greater value on the character of a _doer of good_, than on any other -kind of reputation; and if I have been, as you seem to think, a useful -citizen, the public owes the advantage of it to that book. You mention -your being in your 78th year: I am in my 79th; we are grown old -together. It is now more than sixty years since I left Boston, but I -remember well both your father and grandfather, having heard them both -in the pulpit, and seen them in their houses. The last time I saw your -father was in the beginning of 1724, when I visited him after my first -trip to Pennsylvania. He received me in his library, and on my taking -leave showed me a shorter way out of the house through a narrow passage, -which crossed by a beam over head. We were still talking as I withdrew, -he accompanying me behind, and I turning partly towards him, when he -said hastily, _Stoop, stoop!_ I did not understand him till I felt my -head hit against the beam. He was a man that never missed any occasion -of giving instruction, and upon this he said to me, _You are young, and -have the world before you_; STOOP _as you go through it, and you will -miss many hard thumps_. This advice, thus beat into my head, has -frequently been of use to me; and I often think of it when I see pride -mortified, and misfortunes brought upon people by their carrying their -heads too high. - -"I long much to see again my native place, and to lay my bones there. I -left it in 1723; I visited it in 1733, 1743, 1753, and 1763. In 1773 I -was in England; in 1775 I had a sight of it, but could not enter, it -being in possession of the enemy. I did hope to have been there in 1783, -but could not obtain my dismission from this employment here; and now I -fear I shall never have that happiness. My best wishes, however, attend -my dear country. _Esto perpetua_. It is now blessed with an excellent -constitution; may it last for ever! * * * - -"With great and sincere esteem, I have the honour to be, &c., - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To William Strahan, M. P._ - - "Passy, August 19, 1784. - -"DEAR FRIEND, - -"I received your kind letter of April 17. You will have the goodness to -place my delay in answering to the account of indisposition and -business, and excuse it. I have now that letter before me; and my -grandson, whom you may formerly remember a little scholar at Mr. -Elphinston's, purposing to set out in a day or two on a visit to his -father in London, I sit down to scribble a little to you, first -recommending him as a worthy young man to your civilities and counsels. - -"You press me much to come to England. I am not without strong -inducements to do so; the fund of knowledge you promise to communicate -to me is, in addition to them, no small one. At present it is -impracticable. But when my grandson returns, come with him. We will talk -the matter over, and perhaps you may take me back with you. I have a bed -at your service, and will try to make your residence, while you can stay -with us, as agreeable to you, if possible, as I am sure it will be to -me. - -"You do not 'approve the annihilation of profitable places; for you do -not see why a statesman who does his business well should not be paid -for his labour as well as any other workman.' Agreed. But why more than -any other workman? The less the salary the greater the honour. In so -great a nation there are many rich enough to afford giving their time to -the public; and there are, I make no doubt, many wise and able men who -would take as much pleasure in governing for nothing, as they do in -playing of chess for nothing. It would be one of the noblest amusements. -That this opinion is not chimerical, the country I now live in affords a -proof; its whole civil and criminal law administration being done for -nothing, or, in some sense, for less than nothing, since the members of -its judiciary parliaments buy their places, and do not make more than -three per cent. for their money by their fees and emoluments, while the -legal interest is five; so that, in fact, they give two per cent. to be -allowed to govern, and all their time and trouble into the bargain. Thus -_profit_, one motive for desiring place, being abolished, there remains -only _ambition_; and that being in some degree balanced by _loss_, you -may easily conceive that there will not be very violent factions and -contentions for such places; nor much of the mischief to the country -that attends your factions, which have often occasioned wars, and -overloaded you with debts impayable. - -"I allow you all the force of your joke upon the vagrancy of our -Congress. They have a right to sit _where_ they please, of which, -perhaps, they have made too much use by shifting too often. But they -have two other rights; those of sitting _when_ they please and as _long_ -as they please, in which, methinks, they have the advantage of your -Parliament; for they cannot be dissolved by the breath of a minister, or -sent packing, as you were the other day, when it was your earnest desire -to have remained longer together. - -"You 'fairly acknowledge that the late war terminated quite contrary to -your expectation.' Your expectation was ill-founded; for you would not -believe your old friend, who told you repeatedly, that by those measures -England would lose her colonies, as Epictetus warned in vain his master -that he would break his leg. You believed rather the tales you heard of -our poltroonery and impotence of body and mind. Do you not remember the -story you told me of the Scotch sergeant who met with a party of forty -American soldiers, and, though alone, disarmed them all and brought them -in prisoners? a story almost as improbable as that of an Irishman, who -pretended to have alone taken and brought in five of the enemy by -_surrounding_ them. And yet, my friend, sensible and judicious as you -are, but partaking of the general infatuation, you seemed to believe it. -The word _general_ puts me in mind of a general, your General Clarke, -who had the folly to say in my hearing, at Sir John Pringle's, that with -a thousand British grenadiers he would undertake to go from one end of -America to the other, and geld all the males, partly by force and partly -by a little coaxing. It is plain he took us for a species of animals -very little superior to brutes. The Parliament, too, believed the -stories of another foolish general, I forget his name, that the Yankees -never _felt bold_. Yankee was understood to be a sort of Yahoo, and the -Parliament did not think the petitions of such creatures were fit to be -received and read in so wise an assembly. What was the consequence of -this monstrous pride and insolence? You first sent small armies to -subdue us, believing them more than sufficient, but soon found -yourselves obliged to send greater; these, whenever they ventured to -penetrate our country beyond the protection of their ships, were ether -repulsed and obliged to scamper out, or were surrounded, beaten, and -taken prisoners. An American planter, who had never seen Europe, was -chosen by us to command our troops, and continued during the whole war. -This man sent home to you, one after another, five of your best generals -baffled, their heads bare of laurels, disgraced even in the opinion of -their employers. Your contempt of our understandings, in comparison with -your own, appeared to be much better founded than that of our courage, -if we may judge by this circumstance, that in whatever court of Europe a -Yankee negotiator appeared, the wise British minister was routed, put in -a passion, picked a quarrel with your friends, and was sent home with a -flea in his ear. But, after all, my dear friend, do not imagine that I -am vain enough to ascribe our success to any superiority in any of those -points. I am too well acquainted with all the springs and levers of our -machine not to see that our human means were unequal to our undertaking, -and that, if it had not been for the justice of our cause, and the -consequent interposition of Providence, in which we had faith, we must -have been ruined. If I had ever before been an Atheist, I should now -have been convinced of the being and government of a Deity! It is he -that abases the proud and favours the humble. May we never forget his -goodness to us, and may our future conduct manifest our gratitude! - -"But let us leave these serious reflections and converse with our usual -pleasantry. I remember your observing once to me, as we sat together in -the House of Commons, that no two journeymen printers within your -knowledge had met with such success in the world as ourselves. You were -then at the head of your profession, and soon afterward became member of -Parliament. I was an agent for a few provinces, and now act for them -all. But we have risen by different modes. I, as a republican printer, -always liked a form well _planed down_; being averse to those -_overbearing_ letters that hold their heads so _high_ as to hinder their -neighbours from appearing. You, as a monarchist, chose to work upon -_crown_ paper, and found it profitable; while I worked upon _pro patria_ -(often, indeed, called _foolscap_) with no less advantage. Both our -_heaps hold out_ very well, and we seem likely to make a pretty good -_day's work_ of it. With regard to public affairs (to continue in the -same style), it seems to me that your _compositors_ in your _chapel_ do -not _cast off their copy well_, nor perfectly understand _imposing_: -their _forms_, too, are continually pestered by the _outs_ and _doubles_ -that are not easy to be _corrected_. And I think they were wrong in -laying aside some _faces_, and particularly certain _headpieces_, that -would have been both useful and ornamental. But, courage! The business -may still flourish with good management, and the master become as rich -as any of the company. * * - -"I am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_George Wheatley._ - - "Passy, May 23, 1785. - -"DEAR OLD FRIEND, - -"I sent you a few lines the other day with the medallion, when I should -have written more, but was prevented by the coming in of a _bavard_, who -worried me till evening. I bore with him, and now you are to bear with -me: for I shall probably _bavarder_ in answering your letter. - -"I am not acquainted with the saying of Alphonsus, which you allude to -as a sanctification of your rigidity in refusing to allow me the plea of -old age as an excuse for my want of exactness in correspondence. What -was that saying? You do not, it seems, feel any occasion for such an -excuse, though you are, as you say, rising 75. But I am rising (perhaps -more properly falling) 80, and I leave the excuse with you till you -arrive at that age; perhaps you may then be more sensible of its -validity, and see fit to use it for yourself. - -"I must agree with you that the gout is bad, and that the stone is -worse. I am happy in not having them both together, and I join in your -prayer that you may live till you die without either. But I doubt the -author of the epitaph you send me was a little mistaken, when he, -speaking of the world, says that - - "'He ne'er cared a pin - What they said or may say of the mortal within.' - -"It is so natural to wish to be well spoken of, whether alive or dead, -that I imagine he could not be quite exempt from that desire; and that -at least he wished to be thought a wit, or he would not have given -himself the trouble of writing so good an epitaph to leave behind him. -Was it not as worthy of his care that the world should say he was an -honest and a good man? I like better the concluding sentiment in the old -song, called the _Old Man's Wish_, wherein, after wishing for a warm -house in a country town, an easy horse, some good authors, ingenious and -cheerful companions, a pudding on Sundays, with stout ale and a bottle -of Burgundy, &c., &c., in separate stanzas, each ending with this -burden, - - "'May I govern my passons with absolute sway, - Grow wiser and better as my strength wears away, - Without gout or stone, by a gentle decay.' - -He adds, - - "'With a courage undaunted may I face my last day, - And when I am gone may the better sort say, - In the morning when sober, in the evening when mellow. - He's gone, and has not left behind him his fellow. - For he governed his passions,' &c. - -"But what signifies our wishing? Things happen, after all, as they will -happen. I have sung that _wishing song_ a thousand times when I was -young, and now find at fourscore that the three contraries have -befallen me, being subject to the gout and the stone, and not being yet -master of all my passions. Like the proud girl in my country, who wished -and resolved not to marry a parson, nor a Presbyterian, nor an Irishman, -and at last found herself married to an Irish Presbyterian parson. You -see I have some reason to wish that, in a future state, I may not only -be _as well as I was_, but a little better. And I hope it: for I too, -with your poet, _trust in God_. And when I observe that there is great -frugality as well as wisdom in his works, since he has been evidently -sparing both of labour and materials; for, by the various wonderful -inventions of propagation, he has provided for the continual peopling -his world with plants and animals, without being at the trouble of -repeated new creations; and by the natural reduction of compound -substances to their original elements, capable of being employed in new -compositions, he has prevented the necessity of creating new matter; for -that the earth, water, air, and perhaps fire, which, being compounded -from wood, do, when the wood is dissolved, return, and again become air, -earth, fire, and water: I say, that when I see nothing annihilated, and -not even a drop of water wasted, I cannot suspect the annihilation of -souls, or believe that he will suffer the daily waste of millions of -minds ready made that now exist, and put himself to the continual -trouble of making new ones. Thus, finding myself to exist in the world, -I believe I shall, in some shape or other, always exist: and with all -the inconveniences human life is liable to, I shall not object to a new -edition of mine; hoping, however, that the errata of the last may be -corrected. * * * - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_David Hartley._ - - "Passy, July 5, 1785. - -"I cannot quit the coasts of Europe without taking leave of my ever dear -friend Mr. Hartley. We were long fellow-labourers in the best of all -works, the work of peace. I leave you still in the field, but, having -finished my day's task, I am going home _to go to bed_. Wish me a good -night's rest, as I do you a pleasant evening. Adieu! and believe me ever -yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN, - "In his 80th year" - - * * * * * - -"_To the Bishop of St. Asaph._ - - "Philadelphia, Feb. 24, 1786. - -"DEAR FRIEND, - -"I received lately your kind letter of November 27. My reception here -was, as you have heard, very honourable indeed; but I was betrayed by -it, and by some remains of ambition, from which I had imagined myself -free, to accept of the chair of government for the State of -Pennsylvania, when the proper thing for me was repose and a private -life. I hope, however, to be able to bear the fatigue for one year, and -then retire. - -"I have much regretted our having so little opportunity for conversation -when we last met.[31] You could have given me informations and counsels -that I wanted, but we were scarce a minute together without being broken -in upon. I am to thank you, however, for the pleasure I had, after our -parting, in reading the new book[32] you gave me, which I think -generally well written and likely to do good: though the reading time of -most people is of late so taken up with newspapers and little -periodical pamphlets, that few nowadays venture to attempt reading a -quarto volume. I have admired to see that in the last century a folio, -_Burton on Melancholy_, went through six editions in about forty years. -We have, I believe, more readers now, but not of such large books. - - [31] At Southampton, previous to Dr. Franklin's embarking for the - United States. - - [32] Paley's Moral Philosophy. - -"You seem desirous of knowing what progress we make here in improving -our governments. We are, I think, in the right road of improvement, for -we are making experiments. I do not oppose all that seem wrong, for the -multitude are more effectually set right by experience, than kept from -going wrong by reasoning with them. And I think we are daily more and -more enlightened; so that I have no doubt of our obtaining, in a few -years, as much public felicity as good government is capable of -affording. * * * * - -"As to my domestic circumstances, of which you kindly desire to hear -something, they are at present as happy as I could wish them. I am -surrounded by my offspring, a dutiful and affectionate daughter in my -house, with six grandchildren, the eldest of which you have seen, who is -now at college in the next street, finishing the learned part of his -education; the others promising both for parts and good dispositions. -What their conduct may be when they grow up and enter the important -scenes of life, I shall not live to _see_, and I cannot _foresee_. I -therefore enjoy among them the present hour, and leave the future to -Providence. - -"He that raises a large family does, indeed, while he lives to observe -them, _stand_, as Watts says, _a broader mark for sorrow_; but then he -stands a broader mark for pleasure too. When we launch our little fleet -of barks into the ocean, bound to different ports, we hope for each a -prosperous voyage; but contrary winds, hidden shoals, storms, and -enemies, come in for a share in the disposition of events; and though -these occasion a mixture of disappointment, yet, considering the risk -where we can make no ensurance, we should think ourselves happy if some -return with success. My son's son (Temple Franklin), whom you have also -seen, having had a fine farm of 600 acres conveyed to him by his father -when we were at Southampton, has dropped for the present his views of -acting in the political line, and applies himself ardently to the study -and practice of agriculture. This is much more agreeable to me, who -esteem it the most useful, the most independent, and, therefore, the -noblest of employments. His lands are on navigable water, communicating -with the Delaware, and but about 16 miles from this city. He has -associated to himself a very skilful English farmer, lately arrived -here, who is to instruct him in the business, and partakes for a term of -the profits; so that there is a great apparent probability of their -success. You will kindly expect a word or two about myself. My health -and spirits continue, thanks to God, as when you saw me. The only -complaint I then had does not grow worse, and is tolerable. I still have -enjoyment in the company of my friends; and, being easy in my -circumstances, have many reasons to like living. But the course of -nature must soon put a period to my present mode of existence. This I -shall submit to with less regret, as having seen, during a long life, a -good deal of this world, I feel a growing curiosity to be acquainted -with some other; and can cheerfully, with filial confidence, resign my -spirit to the conduct of that great and good Parent of mankind who -created it, and who has so graciously protected and prospered me from my -birth to the present hour. Wherever I am, I always hope to retain the -pleasing remembrance of your friendship; being, with sincere and great -esteem, my dear friend, yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN. - -"We all join in respects to Mrs. Shipley." - - * * * * * - -"_Mrs. Hewson, London._ - - "Philadelphia, May 6, 1786. - -"MY DEAR FRIEND, - -"A long winter has passed, and I have not had the pleasure of a line -from you, acquainting me with your and your childrens' welfare, since I -left England. I suppose you have been in Yorkshire, out of the way and -knowledge of opportunities, for I will not think you have forgotten me. -To make me some amends, I received a few days past a large packet from -Mr. Williams, dated September, 1776, near ten years since, containing -three letters from you, one of December 12, 1775. This packet had been -received by Mr. Bache after my departure for France, lay dormant among -his papers during all my absence, and has just now broke out upon me -_like words_ that had been, as somebody says, _congealed in Northern -air_. Therein I find all the pleasing little family history of your -children; how William had began to spell, overcoming by strength of -memory all the difficulty occasioned by the common wretched alphabet, -while you were convinced of the utility of our new one. How Tom, -genius-like, struck out new paths, and, relinquishing the old names of -the letters, called U _bell_ and P _bottle_. How Eliza began to grow -jolly, that is, fat and handsome, resembling Aunt Rooke, whom I used to -call _my lovely_. Together with all the _then_ news of Lady Blunt's -having produced at length a boy; of Dolly's being well, and of poor good -Catharine's decease. Of your affairs with Muir and Atkinson, and of -their contract for feeding the fish in the Channel. Of the Vinys, and -their jaunt to Cambridge in the long carriages. Of Dolly's journey to -Wales with Mr. Scot. Of the Wilkeses, the Pearces, Elphinston, &c., &c. -Concluding with a kind promise that, as soon as the ministry and -Congress agreed to make peace, I should have you with me in America. -That peace has been some time made, but, alas! the promise is not yet -fulfilled. And why is it not fulfilled? - -"I have found my family here in health, good circumstances, and well -respected by their fellow-citizens. The companions of my youth are -indeed almost all departed, but I find an agreeable society among their -children and grandchildren. I have public business enough to preserve me -from _ennui_, and private amusement besides, in conversation, books, and -my garden. Considering our well-furnished plentiful market as the best -of gardens, I am turning mine, in the midst of which my house stands, -into grassplats and gravel-walks, with trees and flowering shrubs. * * * - -"Temple has turned his thoughts to agriculture, which he pursues -ardently, being in possession of a fine farm that his father lately -conveyed to him. Ben is finishing his studies at college, and continues -to behave as well as when you knew him, so that I still think he will -make you a good son. His younger brothers and sisters are also all -promising, appearing to have good tempers and dispositions, as well as -good constitutions. As to myself, I think my general health and spirits -rather better than when you saw me, and the particular malady I then -complained of continues tolerable. With sincere and very great esteem, I -am ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To M. Veillard._ - - "Philadelphia, April 15, 1787 - -"MY DEAR FRIEND, - -"I am quite of your opinion, that our independence is not quite complete -till we have discharged our public debt. This state is not behindhand in -its proportion, and those who are in arrear are actually employed in -contriving means to discharge their respective balances; but they are -not all equally diligent in the business, nor equally successful; the -whole will, however, be paid, I am persuaded, in a few years. - -"The English have not yet delivered up the posts on our frontier -agreeable to treaty; the pretence is, that our merchants here have not -paid their debts. I was a little provoked when I first heard this, and I -wrote some remarks upon it, which I send you: they have been written -near a year, but I have not yet published them, being unwilling to -encourage any of our people who may be able to pay in their neglect of -that duty. The paper is therefore only for your amusement, and that of -our excellent friend the Duke de la Rochefoucauld. - -"As to my malady, concerning which you so kindly inquire, I have never -had the least doubt of its being the stone, and I am sensible that it -has increased; but, on the whole, it does not give me more pain than -when at Passy. People who live long, who will drink of the cup of life -to the very bottom, must expect to meet with some of the usual dregs; -and when I reflect on the number of terrible maladies human nature is -subject to, I think myself favoured in having to my share only the stone -and gout. - -"You were right in conjecturing that I wrote the remarks on the -'_thoughts concerning executive justice_.' I have no copy of these -remarks at hand, and forget how the saying was introduced, that it is -better a thousand guilty persons should escape than one innocent suffer. -Your criticisms thereon appear to be just, and I imagine you may have -misapprehended my intention in mentioning it. I always thought with you, -that the prejudice in Europe, which supposes a family dishonoured by the -punishment of one of its members, was very absurd, it being, on the -contrary, my opinion, that a rogue hanged out of a family does it more -honour than ten that live in it. - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Mr. Jordain._ - - "Philadelphia, May 18, 1787. - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I received your very kind letter of February 27, together with the cask -of porter you have been so good as to send me. We have here at present -what the French call _une assemblée des notables_, a convention composed -of some of the principal people from the several states of our -confederation. They did me the honour of dining with me last Wednesday, -when the cask was broached, and its contents met with the most cordial -reception and universal approbation. In short, the company agreed -unanimously that it was the best porter they had ever tasted. Accept my -thanks, a poor return, but all I can make at present. - -"Your letter reminds me of many happy days we have passed together, and -the dear friends with whom we passed them; some of whom, alas! have left -us, and we must regret their loss, although our Hawkesworth[33] is -become an adventurer in more happy regions; and our Stanley[34] gone, -'where only his own _harmony_ can be exceeded.' You give me joy in -telling me that you are 'on the pinnacle of _content_.' Without it no -situation can be happy; with it, any. One means of becoming content with -one's situation is the comparing it with a worse Thus, when I consider -how many terrible diseases the human body is liable to, I comfort myself -that only three incurable ones have fallen to my share, the gout, the -stone, and old age; and that these have not yet deprived me of my -natural cheerfulness, my delight in books, and enjoyment of social -conversation. - - [33] John Hawkesworth, LL.D., author of the Adventurer, and - compiler of the account of the Discoveries made in the South Seas - by Captain Cook. - - [34] John Stanley, an eminent musician and composer, though he - became blind at the age of two years. - -"I am glad to hear that Mr. Fitzmaurice is married, and has an amiable -lady and children. It is a better plan than that he once proposed, of -getting Mrs. Wright to make him a waxwork wife to sit at the head of his -table. For, after all, wedlock is the natural state of man. A bachelor -is not a complete human being. He is like the odd half of a pair of -scissors, which has not yet found its fellow, and, therefore, is not -even half so useful as they might be together. - -"I hardly know which to admire most, the wonderful discoveries made by -Herschel, or the indefatigable ingenuity by which he has been enabled to -make them. Let us hope, my friend, that, when free from these bodily -embarrassments, we may roam together through some of the systems he has -explored, conducted by some of our old companions already acquainted -with them. Hawkesworth will enliven our progress with his cheerful, -sensible converse, and Stanley accompany the music of the spheres. - -"Mr. Watraaugh tells me, for I immediately inquired after her, that your -daughter is alive and well. I remember her a most promising and -beautiful child, and therefore do not wonder that she is grown, as he -says, a fine woman. - -"God bless her and you, my dear friend, and everything that pertains to -you, is the sincere prayer of yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN, - "In his 82d year." - - * * * * * - -"_To Miss Hubbard._ - -"I condole with you. We have lost a most dear and valuable relation. But -it is the will of God and nature that these mortal bodies be laid aside, -when the soul is to enter into real life. This is rather an embryo -state, a preparation for living. A man is not completely born until he -be dead. Why, then, should we grieve that a new child is born among the -immortals, a new member added to their happy society? We are spirits. -That bodies should be lent us while they can afford us pleasure, to -assist us in acquiring knowledge, or doing good to our fellow-creatures, -is a kind and benevolent act of God. When they become unfit for these -purposes, and afford us pain instead of pleasure, instead of an aid -become an encumbrance, and answer none of the intentions for which they -were given, it is equally kind and benevolent that a way is provided by -which we may get rid of them. Death is that way. We ourselves, in some -cases, prudently choose a partial death. A mangled, painful limb, which -cannot be restored, we willingly cut off. He who plucks out a tooth, -parts with it freely, since the pain goes with it; and he who quits the -whole body, parts at once with all pains, and possibilities of pains and -diseases it was liable to, or capable of making him suffer. - -"Our friend and we were invited abroad on a party of pleasure which is -to last for ever. His chair was ready first, and he is gone before us. -We could not all conveniently start together; and why should you and I -be grieved at this, since we are soon to follow, and know where to find -him? - - "Adieu, - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To George Wheatley._ - - "Philadelphia, May 18, 1787. - -"I received duly my good old friend's letter of the 19th of February. I -thank you much for your notes on banks; they are just and solid, as far -as I can judge of them. Our bank here has met with great opposition, -partly from envy, and partly from those who wish an emission of more -paper money, which they think the bank influence prevents. But it has -stood all attacks, and went on well, notwithstanding the Assembly -repealed its charter. A new Assembly has restored it, and the management -is so prudent that I have no doubt of its continuing to go on well: the -dividend has never been less than six per cent., nor will that be -augmented for some time, as the surplus profit is reserved to face -accidents. The dividend of eleven per cent., which was once made, was -from a circumstance scarce unavoidable. A new company was proposed, and -prevented only by admitting a number of new partners. As many of the -first set were averse to this and chose to withdraw, it was necessary to -settle their accounts; so all were adjusted, the profits shared that had -been accumulated, and the new and old proprietors jointly began on a new -and equal footing. Their notes are always instantly paid on demand, and -pass on all occasions as readily as silver, because they will produce -silver. - -"Your medallion is in good company; it is placed with those of Lord -Chatham, Lord Camden. Marquis of Rockingham, Sir George Saville, and -some others who honoured me with a show of friendly regard when in -England. I believe I have thanked you for it, but I thank you again. - -"I believe with you, that if our plenipo. is desirous of concluding a -treaty of commerce, he may need patience. If I were in his place and not -otherwise instructed, I should be apt to say 'take your own time, -gentlemen.' If the treaty cannot be made as much to your advantage as -ours, don't make it. I am sure the want of it is not more to our -disadvantage than to yours. Let the merchants on both sides treat with -one another. _Laissez les faire._ - -"I have never considered attentively the Congress's scheme for coining, -and I have it not now at hand, so that at present I can say nothing to -it. The chief uses of coining seem to be the ascertaining the fineness -of the metals, and saving the time that would otherwise be spent in -weighing to ascertain the quantity. But the convenience of fixed values -to pieces is so great as to force the currency of some whose stamp is -worn off, that should have assured their fineness, and which are -evidently not of half their due weight; the case at present with the -sixpences in England, which, one with another, do not weigh threepence. - -"You are now 78, and I am 82; you tread fast upon my heels; but, though -you have more strength and spirit, you cannot come up with me until I -stop, which must now be soon; for I am grown so old as to have buried -most of the friends of my youth; and I now often hear persons whom I -knew when children, called _old_ Mr. Such-a-one, to distinguish them -from their sons, now men grown and in business; so that, by living -twelve years beyond David's period, I seem to have intruded myself into -the company of posterity when I ought to have been abed and asleep. Yet, -had I gone at seventy, it would have cut off twelve of the most active -years of my life, employed, too, in matters of the greatest importance; -but whether I have been doing good or mischief is for time to discover. -I only know that I intended well, and I hope all will end well. - -"Be so good as to present my affectionate respects to Dr. Riley. I am -under great obligations to him, and shall write to him shortly. It will -be a pleasure to him to know that my malady does not grow sensibly -worse, and that is a great point; for it has always been so tolerable as -not to prevent my enjoying the pleasures of society, and being cheerful -in conversation; I owe this in a great measure to his good counsels. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_B. Vaughan._ - - "October 24, 1788. - -"Having now finished my term in the presidentship, and resolving to -engage no more in public affairs, I hope to be a better correspondent -for the little time I have to live. I am recovering from a -long-continued gout, and am diligently employed in writing the History -of my Life, to the doing of which the persuasions contained in your -letter of January 31, 1783, have not a little contributed. I am now in -the year 1756, just before I was sent to England. To shorten the work, -as well as for other reasons, I omit all facts and transactions that may -not have a tendency to benefit the young reader, by showing him from my -example, and my success in emerging from poverty, and acquiring some -degree of wealth, power, and reputation, the advantages of certain modes -of conduct which I observed, and of avoiding the errors which were -prejudicial to me. If a writer can judge properly of his own work, I -fancy, on reading over what is already done, that the book may be found -entertaining and useful, more so than I expected when I began it. If my -present state of health continues, I hope to finish it this winter: when -done, you shall have a manuscript copy of it, that I may obtain from -your judgment and friendship such remarks as may contribute to its -improvement. - -"The violence of our party debates about the new constitution seems -much abated, indeed almost extinct, and we are getting fast into good -order. I kept out of those disputes pretty well, having wrote only one -piece, which I send you enclosed. - -"I regret the immense quantity of misery brought upon mankind by this -Turkish war; and I am afraid the King of Sweden may burn his fingers by -attacking Russia. When will princes learn arithmetic enough to -calculate, if they want pieces of one another's territory, how much -cheaper it would be to buy them than to make war for them, even though -they were to give a hundred years' purchase; but if glory cannot be -valued, and, therefore, the wars for it cannot be subject to -arithmetical calculation, so as to show their advantages or -disadvantages, at least wars for trade, which have gain for their -object, may be proper subjects for such computation; and a trading -nation, as well as a single trader, ought to calculate the probabilities -of profit and loss before engaging in any considerable adventure. This, -however, nations seldom do, and we have had frequent instances of their -spending more money in wars for acquiring or securing branches of -commerce, than a hundred years' profit, or the full enjoyment of them -can compensate. * * - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_To the President of Congress._ - - "Philadelphia, Nov. 29, 1788. - -"SIR, - -"When I had the honour of being the minister of the United States at the -court of France, Mr. Barclay arriving there, brought me the following -resolution of Congress: - -"'Resolved, That a commissioner be appointed by Congress with full power -and authority to liquidate and _finally to settle_ the accounts of all -the servants of the United States who have been intrusted with the -expenditure of public money in Europe, and to commence and prosecute -such suits, causes, and actions as may be necessary for that purpose, or -for the recovery of any property of the said United States in the hands -of any person or persons whatsoever. - -"'That the said commissioner be authorized to appoint one or more -clerks, with such allowance as he may think reasonable. - -"'That the said commissioner and clerks respectively take an oath, -before some person duly authorized to administer an oath, faithfully to -execute the trust reposed in them respectively. - -"'Congress proceeded to the election of a commissioner, and ballots -being taken, Mr. T. Barclay was elected.' - -"In pursuance of this resolution, and as soon as Mr. Barclay was at -leisure from more pressing business, I rendered to him all my accounts, -which he examined and stated methodically. By his statements he found a -balance due to me on the 4th May, 1785, of 7533 livres, 19 sols, 3 -deniers, which I accordingly received of the Congress Bank; the -difference between my statement and his being only seven sols, which by -mistake I had overcharged, about threepence halfpenny sterling. - -"At my request, however, the accounts were left open for the -consideration of Congress, and not finally settled, there being some -articles on which I desired their judgment, and having some equitable -demands, as I thought them, for extra services, which he had not -conceived himself empowered to allow, and therefore I did not put them -in my account. He transmitted the accounts to Congress, and had advice -of their being received. On my arrival at Philadelphia, one of the first -things I did was to despatch my grandson, W. T. Franklin, to New-York, -to obtain a final settlement of those accounts, he having long acted as -my secretary, and, being well acquainted with the transactions, was able -to give an explanation of the articles that might seem to require -explaining, if any such there were. He returned without effecting the -settlement, being told that it would not be made till the arrival of -some documents expected from France. What those documents were I have -not been informed, nor can I readily conceive, as all the vouchers -existing there had been examined by Mr. Barclay. And I having been -immediately after my arrival engaged in public business of this state, I -waited in expectation of hearing from Congress, in case any part of my -accounts had been objected to. - -"It is now more than three years that those accounts have been before -that honourable body, and to this day no notice of any such objection -has been communicated to me. But reports have for some time past been -circulated here, and propagated in newspapers, that I am greatly -indebted to the United States for large sums that had been put into my -hands, and that I avoid a settlement. - -"This, together with the little time one of my age may expect to live, -makes it necessary for me to request earnestly, which I hereby do, that -the Congress would be pleased, without farther delay, to examine those -accounts, and if they find therein any article or articles which they do -not understand or approve, that they would cause me to be acquainted -with the same, that I may have an opportunity of offering such -explanations or reasons in support of them as may be in my power, and -then that the account may be finally closed. - -"I hope the Congress will soon be able to attend to this business for -the satisfaction of the public, as well as in condescension to my -request. In the mean time, if there be no impropriety in it, I would -desire that this letter, together with another on the same subject, the -copy of which is hereto annexed, be put upon their minutes. - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Mrs. Green._ - - "Philadelphia, March 2, 1789. - -"DEAR FRIEND, - -"Having now done with public affairs, which have hitherto taken up so -much of my time, I shall endeavour to enjoy, during the small remainder -of life that is left to me, some of the pleasures of conversing with my -old friends by writing, since their distance prevents my hope of seeing -them again. - -"I received one of the bags of sweet corn you was so good as to send me -a long time since, but the other never came to hand; even the letter -mentioning it, though dated December 10, 1787, has been above a year on -its way, for I received it but about two weeks since from Baltimore, in -Maryland. The corn I did receive was excellent, and gave me great -pleasure. Accept my hearty thanks. - -"I am, as you suppose in the above-mentioned old letter, much pleased to -hear that my young friend Ray is 'smart in the farming way,' and makes -such substantial fences. I think agriculture the most honourable of all -employments, being the most independent. The farmer has no need of -popular favour, nor the favour of the great; the success of his crops -depending only on the blessing of God upon his honest industry. I -congratulate your good spouse, that he as well as myself is now free -from public cares, and that he can bend his whole attention to his -farming, which will afford him both profit and pleasure; a business -which nobody knows better how to manage with advantage. I am too old to -follow printing again myself, but, loving the business, I have brought -up my grandson Benjamin to it, and have built and furnished a -printing-house for him, which he now manages under my eye. I have great -pleasure in the rest of my grandchildren, who are now in number eight, -and all promising, the youngest only six months old, but shows signs of -great good-nature. My friends here are numerous, and I enjoy as much of -their conversation as I can reasonably wish; and I have as much health -and cheerfulness as can well be expected at my age, now eighty-two. -Hitherto this long life has been tolerably happy, so that, if I were -allowed to live it over again, I should make no objection, only wishing -for leave to do, what authors do in a second edition of their works, -correct some of my errata. Among the felicities of my life I reckon your -friendship, which I shall remember with pleasure as long as life lasts, -being ever, my dear friend, yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Dr. Price._ - - "Philadelphia, May 31, 1789. - -"MY VERY DEAR FRIEND, - -"I lately received your kind letter, enclosing one from Miss Kitty -Shipley, informing me of the good bishop's decease, which afflicted me -greatly. My friends drop off one after another, when my age and -infirmities prevent me making new ones, and if I still retain the -necessary activity and ability, I hardly see among the existing -generation where I could make them of equal goodness. So that, the -longer I live, I must expect to be the more wretched. As we draw nearer -the conclusion of life, nature furnishes us with more helps to wean us -from it, among which one of the most powerful is the loss of such dear -friends. - -"I send you with this the two volumes of our Transactions, as I forget -whether you had the first before. If you had, you will please to give -this to the French ambassador, requesting his conveyance of it to the -good Duke de la Rochefoucauld. My best wishes attend you, being ever, -with sincere and great esteem, my dear friend, yours most -affectionately, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_B. Vaughan._ - - "Philadelphia, June 3, 1789. - -"MY DEAREST FRIEND, - -"I received your kind letter of March 4, and wish I may be able to -complete what you so earnestly desire, the Memoirs of my Life. But of -late I am so interrupted by extreme pain, which obliges me to have -recourse to opium, that between the effects of both I have but little -time in which I can write anything. My grandson, however, is copying -what is done, which will be sent to you for your opinion, by the next -vessel; and not merely for your opinion, but for your advice; for I find -it a difficult task to speak decently and properly of one's own conduct; -and I feel the want of a judicious friend to encourage me in scratching -out. - -"I have condoled sincerely with the bishop of St. Asaph's family. He was -an excellent man. Losing our friends thus one by one is the tax we pay -for long living; and it is indeed a heavy one! - -"I have not seen the King of Prussia's posthumous works; what you -mention makes me desirous to have them. Please to mention it to your -brother William, and that I request he would add them to the books I -have desired him to buy for me. - -"Our new government is now in train, and seems to promise well. But -events are in the hand of God! I am ever, my dear friend, yours most -affectionately, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -"_Dr. Rush._ - - "Philadelphia. - [Without date, but supposed to be in 1789.] - -"MY DEAR FRIEND, - -"During our long acquaintance you have shown many instances of your -regard for me, yet I must now desire you to add one more to the number, -which is that if you publish your ingenious discourse on the _moral -sense_, you will totally omit and suppress that extravagant encomium on -your friend Franklin, which hurt me exceedingly in the unexpected -hearing, and will mortify me beyond conception if it should appear from -the press. - -"Confiding in your compliance with this earnest request, I am ever, my -dear friend, yours most affectionately, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_To Miss Catharine Louisa Shipley._ - - "Philadelphia, April 27, 1789. - -"It is only a few days since the kind letter of my dear young friend, -dated December 24, came to my hands. I had before, in the public papers, -met with the afflicting news that letter contained. That excellent man -has then left us! his departure is a loss, not to his family and friends -only, but to his nation and to the world: for he was intent on doing -good, had wisdom to devise the means, and talents to promote them. His -sermon before the Society for Propagating the Gospel, and "_his speech -intended to be spoken_," are proofs of his ability as well as his -humanity. Had his counsels in those pieces been attended to by the -ministers, how much bloodshed might have been prevented, and how much -expense and disgrace to the nation avoided! - -"Your reflections on the constant calmness and composure attending his -death are very sensible. Such instances seem to show that the good -sometimes enjoy, in dying, a foretaste of the happy state they are -about to enter. - -"According to the course of years, I should have quitted this world long -before him: I shall, however, not be long in following. I am now in my -eighty-fourth year, and the last year has considerably enfeebled me, so -that I hardly expect to remain another. You will then, my dear friend, -consider this as probably the last line to be received from me, and as a -taking leave. - -"Present my best and most sincere respects to your good mother, and love -to the rest of the family, to whom I wish all happiness; and believe me -to be, while I _do_ live, yours most affectionately, - - "B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_To_ * * *. - - (Withoute date.) - -"DEAR SIR, - -"I have read your manuscript with some attention. By the argument it -contains against a particular Providence, though you allow a general -Providence, you strike at the foundations of all religion. For without -the belief of a Providence that takes cognizance of, guards and guides, -and may favour particular persons, there is no motive to worship a -Deity, to fear its displeasure, or to pray for its protection. I will -not enter into any discussion of your principles, though you seem to -desire it. At present I shall only give you my opinion, that though your -reasonings are subtle, and may prevail with some readers, you will not -succeed so as to change the general sentiments of mankind on that -subject, and the consequence of printing this piece will be, a great -deal of odium drawn upon yourself, mischief to you, and no benefit to -others. He that spits against the wind, spits in his own face. But were -you to succeed, do you imagine any good would be done by it? You -yourself may find it easy to live a virtuous life without the assistance -afforded by religion; you having a clear perception of the advantages of -virtue and the disadvantages of vice, and possessing a strength of -resolution sufficient to enable you to resist common temptations. But -think how great a portion of mankind consists of weak and ignorant men -and women, and of inexperienced, inconsiderate youth of both sexes, who -have need of the motives of religion to restrain them from vice, to -support their virtue, and retain them in the practice of it till it -becomes _habitual_, which is the great point of its security. And -perhaps you are indebted to her originally, that is, to your religious -education, for the habits of virtue upon which you now justly value -yourself. You might easily display your excellent talents of reasoning -upon a less hazardous subject, and thereby obtain a rank with our most -distinguished authors. For among us it is not necessary, as among the -Hottentots, that a youth to be raised into the company of men should -prove his manhood by beating his mother. I would advise you, therefore, -not to attempt unchaining the tiger, but to burn this piece before it is -seen by any other person, whereby you will save yourself a great deal of -mortification from the enemies it may raise against you, and, perhaps, a -great deal of regret and repentance. If men are so wicked _with -religion_, what would they be if _without it_? I intend this letter -itself as a _proof_ of my friendship, and, therefore, add no -_professions_ to it; but subscribe simply yours, - - B. FRANKLIN." - - * * * * * - -_Copy of the last Letter written by Dr. Franklin._ - - "Philadelphia, April 8, 1790. - -"SIR, - -"I received your letter of the 31st of last past relating to -encroachments made on the eastern limits of the United States by -settlers under the British government, pretending that it is the -_western_, and not the _eastern_ river of the Bay of Passamaquoddy which -was designated by the name of St. Croix, in the treaty of peace with -that nation; and requesting of me to communicate any facts which my -memory or papers may enable me to recollect, and which may indicate the -true river which the commissioners on both sides had in their view to -establish as the boundary between the two nations. - -"Your letter found me under a severe fit of my malady, which prevented -my answering it sooner, or attending, indeed, to any kind of business. I -now can assure you that I am perfectly clear in the remembrance that the -map we used in tracing the boundary was brought to the treaty by the -commissioners from England, and that it was the same that was published -by _Mitchell_ above twenty years before. Having a copy of that map by me -in loose sheets, I send you that sheet which contains the Bay of -Passamaquoddy, where you will see that part of the boundary traced. I -remember, too, that in that part of the boundary we relied much on the -opinion of Mr. Adams, who had been concerned in some former disputes -concerning those territories. I think, therefore, that you may obtain -still farther light from him. - -"That the map we used was Mitchell's map, Congress were acquainted at -the time, by letter to their secretary for foreign affairs, which I -suppose may be found upon their files. - -"I have the honour to be, with the greatest esteem and respect, sir, -your most obedient and most humble servant, - - "B. FRANKLIN. - - "To Thomas Jefferson, } - "Secretary of State of the United States."} - - - - -PHILOSOPHICAL SUBJECTS. - - -_To the Abbé Soulavie._[35] - - [35] Occasioned by his sending me some notes he had taken of what I - had said to him in conversation on the Theory of the Earth. I wrote - it to set him right in some points wherein he had mistaken my - meaning.--B. F. - -_Theory of the Earth._--Read in the American Philosophical Society, -November 22, 1782. - - Passy, September 22, 1782. - -I return the papers with some corrections. I did not find coal mines -under the calcareous rocks in Derbyshire. I only remarked, that at the -lowest part of that rocky mountain which was in sight, there were oyster -shells mixed in the stone; and part of the high county of Derby being -probably as much above the level of the sea as the coal mines of -Whitehaven were below it, seemed a proof that there had been a great -_boulversement_ in the surface of that island, some part of it having -been depressed under the sea, and other parts, which had been under it, -being raised above it. Such changes in the superficial parts of the -globe seemed to me unlikely to happen if the earth were solid to the -centre. I therefore imagined that the internal parts might be a fluid -more dense, and of greater specific gravity than any of the solids we -are acquainted with, which therefore might swim in or upon that fluid. -Thus the surface of the globe would be a shell, capable of being broken -or disordered by the violent movements of the fluid on which it rested. -And as air has been compressed by art so as to be twice as dense as -water, in which case, if such air and water could be contained in a -strong glass vessel, the air would be seen to take the lowest place, and -the water to float above and upon it; and as we know not yet the degree -of density to which air may be compressed, and M. Amontons calculated -that its density increasing as it approached the centre in the same -proportion as above the surface, it would, at the depth of---- leagues, -be heavier than gold; possibly the dense fluid occupying the internal -parts of the globe might be air compressed. And as the force of -expansion in dense air, when heated, is in proportion to its density, -this central air might afford another agent to move the surface, as well -as be of use in keeping alive the subterraneous fires; though, as you -observe, the sudden rarefaction of water coming into contact without -those fires, may also be an agent sufficiently strong for that purpose, -when acting between the incumbent earth and the fluid on which it rests. - -If one might indulge imagination in supposing how such a globe was -formed, I should conceive, that all the elements in separate particles -being originally mixed in confusion, and occupying a great space, they -would (as soon as the almighty fiat ordained gravity, or the mutual -attraction of certain parts and the mutual repulsion of others, to -exist) all move to their common centre: that the air, being a fluid -whose parts repel each other, though drawn to the common centre by their -gravity, would be densest towards the centre, and rarer as more remote; -consequently, all matters lighter than the central parts of that air and -immersed in it, would recede from the centre, and rise till they arrived -at that region of the air which was of the same specific gravity with -themselves, where they would rest; while other matter, mixed with the -lighter air, would descend, and the two, meeting, would form the shell -of the first earth, leaving the upper atmosphere nearly clear. The -original movement of the parts towards their common centre would -naturally form a whirl there, which would continue upon the turning of -the new-formed globe upon its axis, and the greatest diameter of the -shell would be in its equator. If by any accident afterward the axis -should be changed, the dense internal fluid, by altering its form, must -burst the shell and throw all its substance into the confusion in which -we find it. I will not trouble you at present with my fancies concerning -the manner of forming the rest of our system. Superior beings smile at -our theories, and at our presumption in making them. I will just -mention, that your observations on the ferruginous nature of the lava -which is thrown out from the depths of our volcanoes, gave me great -pleasure. It has long been a supposition of mine, that the iron -contained in the surface of the globe has made it capable of becoming, -as it is, a great magnet; that the fluid of magnetism perhaps exists in -all space; so that there is a magnetical north and south of the -universe, as well as of this globe, and that, if it were possible for a -man to fly from star to star, he might govern his course by the compass; -that it was by the power of this general magnetism this globe became a -particular magnet. In soft or hot iron the fluid of magnetism is -naturally diffused equally; when within the influence of the magnet it -is drawn to one end of the iron, made denser there and rarer at the -other. While the iron continues soft and hot, it is only a temporary -magnet; if it cools or grows hard in that situation, it becomes a -permanent one, the magnetic fluid not easily resuming its equilibrium. -Perhaps it may be owing to the permanent magnetism of this globe, which -it had not at first, that its axis is at present kept parallel to -itself, and not liable to the changes it formerly suffered, which -occasioned the rupture of its shell, the submersions and emersions of -its lands, and the confusion of its seasons. The present polar and -equatorial diameters differing from each other near ten leagues, it is -easy to conceive, in case some power should shift the axis gradually, -and place it in the present equator, and make the new equator pass -through the present poles, what a sinking of the waters would happen in -the equatorial regions, and what a rising in the present polar regions; -so that vast tracts would be discovered that now are under water, and -others covered that are now dry, the water rising and sinking in the -different extremes near five leagues. Such an operation as this possibly -occasioned much of Europe, and, among the rest, this mountain of Passy -on which I live, and which is composed of limestone, rock, and -seashells, to be abandoned by the sea, and to change its ancient -climate, which seems to have been a hot one. The globe being now become -a perfect magnet, we are, perhaps, safe from any change of its axis. But -we are still subject to the accidents on the surface, which are -occasioned by a wave in the internal ponderous fluid; and such a wave is -producible by the sudden violent explosion you mention, happening from -the junction of water and fire under the earth, which not only lifts the -incumbent earth that is over the explosion, but, impressing with the -same force the fluid under it, creates a wave that may run a thousand -leagues, lifting, and thereby shaking, successively, all the countries -under which it passes. I know not whether I have expressed myself so -clearly as not to get out of your sight in these reveries. If they -occasion any new inquiries, and produce a better hypothesis, they will -not be quite useless. You see I have given a loose to imagination; but I -approve much more your method of philosophizing, which proceeds upon -actual observation, makes a collection of facts, and concludes no -farther than those facts will warrant. In my present circumstances, that -mode of studying the nature of the globe is out of my power, and -therefore I have permitted myself to wander a little in the wilds of -fancy. With great esteem, - - B. FRANKLIN. - -P.S.--I have heard that chymists can by their art decompose stone and -wood, extracting a considerable quantity of water from the one and air -from the other. It seems natural to conclude from this, that water and -air were ingredients in their original composition; for men cannot make -new matter of any kind. In the same manner, may we not suppose, that -when we consume combustibles of all kinds, and produce heat or light, we -do not create that heat or light, but decompose a substance which -received it originally as a part of its composition? Heat may be thus -considered as originally in a fluid state; but, attracted by organized -bodies in their growth, becomes a part of the solid. Besides this, I can -conceive, that in the first assemblage of the particles of which the -earth is composed, each brought its portion of loose heat that had been -connected with it, and the whole, when pressed together, produced the -internal fire that still subsists. - - * * * * * - -_To Dr. John Pringle._ - -ON THE DIFFERENT STRATA OF THE EARTH. - - Craven-street, Jan. 6, 1758. - -I return you Mr. Mitchell's paper on the strata of the earth[36] with -thanks. The reading of it, and the perusal of the draught that -accompanies it, have reconciled me to those convulsions which all -naturalists agree this globe has suffered. Had the different strata of -clay, gravel, marble, coals, limestone, sand, minerals, &c., continued -to lie level, one under the other, as they may be supposed to have done -before those convulsions, we should have had the use only of a few of -the uppermost of the strata, the others lying too deep and too difficult -to be come at; but the shell of the earth being broke, and the fragments -thrown into this oblique position, the disjointed ends of a great number -of strata of different kinds are brought up to day, and a great variety -of useful materials put into our power, which would otherwise have -remained eternally concealed from us. So that what has been usually -looked upon as a _ruin_ suffered by this part of the universe, was, in -reality, only a preparation, or means of rendering the earth more fit -for use, more capable of being to mankind a convenient and comfortable -habitation. - - [36] The paper of Mr. Mitchell, here referred to, was published - afterward in the Philosophical Transactions of London. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To Mr. Bowdoin._ - - _Queries and Conjectures relating to Magnetism - and the Theory of the Earth._--Read in the American Philosophical - Society January 15, 1790. - -I received your favours by Messrs. Gore, Hilliard, and Lee, with whose -conversation I was much pleased, and wished for more of it; but their -stay with us was too short. Whenever you recommend any of your friends -to me, you oblige me. - -I want to know whether your Philosophical Society received the second -volume of our Transactions. I sent it, but never heard of its arriving. -If it miscarried, I will send another. Has your Society among its books -the French work _Sur les Arts et les Metiers_? It is voluminous, well -executed, and may be useful in our country. I have bequeathed it them in -my will; but if they have it already, I will substitute something else. - -Our ancient correspondence used to have something philosophical in it. -As you are now free from public cares, and I expect to be so in a few -months, why may we not resume that kind of correspondence? Our much -regretted friend Winthrop once made me the compliment, that I was good -at starting game for philosophers, let me try if I can start a little -for you. - -Has the question, how came the earth by its magnetism, ever been -considered? - -Is it likely that _iron ore_ immediately existed when this globe was at -first formed; or may it not rather be supposed a gradual production of -time? - -If the earth is at present magnetical, in virtue of the masses of iron -ore contained in it, might not some ages pass before it had magnetic -polarity? - -Since iron ore may exist without that polarity, and, by being placed in -certain circumstances, may obtain it from an external cause, is it not -possible that the earth received its magnetism from some such cause? - -In short, may not a magnetic power exist throughout our system, perhaps -through all systems, so that if men could make a voyage in the starry -regions, a compass might be of use? And may not such universal -magnetism, with its uniform direction, be serviceable in keeping the -diurnal revolution of a planet more steady to the same axis? - -Lastly, as the poles of magnets may be changed by the presence of -stronger magnets, might not, in ancient times, the near passing of some -large comet, of greater magnetic power than this globe of ours, have -been a means of changing its poles, and thereby wrecking and deranging -its surface, placing in different regions the effect of centrifugal -force, so as to raise the waters of the sea in some, while they were -depressed in others? - -Let me add another question or two, not relating indeed to magnetism, -but, however, to the theory of the earth. - -Is not the finding of great quantities of shells and bones of animals -(natural to hot climates) in the cold ones of our present world, some -proof that its poles have been changed? Is not the supposition that the -poles have been changed, the easiest way of accounting for the deluge, -by getting rid of the old difficulty how to dispose of its waters after -it was over! Since, if the poles were again to be changed, and placed in -the present equator, the sea would fall there about fifteen miles in -height, and rise as much in the present polar regions; and the effect -would be proportionable if the new poles were placed anywhere between -the present and the equator. - -Does not the apparent wreck of the surface of this globe, thrown up into -long ridges of mountains, with strata in various positions, make it -probable that its internal mass is a fluid, but a fluid so dense as to -float the heaviest of our substances? Do we know the limit of -condensation air is capable of? Supposing it to grow denser _within_ the -surface in the same proportion nearly as it does _without_, at what -depth may it be equal in density with gold? - -Can we easily conceive how the strata of the earth could have been so -deranged, if it had not been a mere shell supported by a heavier fluid? -Would not such a supposed internal fluid globe be immediately sensible -of a change in the situation of the earth's axis, alter its form, and -thereby burst the shell and throw up parts of it above the rest? As if -we would alter the position of the fluid contained in the shell of an -egg, and place its longest diameter where the shortest now is, the shell -must break; but would be much harder to break if the whole internal -substance were as solid and as hard as the shell. - -Might not a wave, by any means raised in this supposed internal ocean of -extremely dense fluid, raise, in some degree as it passes, the present -shell of incumbent earth, and break it in some places, as in -earthquakes. And may not the progress of such wave, and the disorders it -occasions among the solids of the shell, account for the rumbling sound -being first heard at a distance, augmenting as it approaches, and -gradually dying away as it proceeds? A circumstance observed by the -inhabitants of South America, in their last great earthquake, that noise -coming from a place some degrees north of Lima, and being traced by -inquiry quite down to Buenos Ayres, proceeded regularly from north to -south at the rate of ____ leagues per minute, as I was informed by a -very ingenious Peruvian whom I met with at Paris. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To M. Dubourg._ - -ON THE NATURE OF SEACOAL. - -I am persuaded, as well as you, that the seacoal has a vegetable origin, -and that it has been formed near the surface of the earth; but, as -preceding convulsions of nature had served to bring it very deep in many -places, and covered it with many different strata, we are indebted to -subsequent convulsions for having brought within our view the -extremities of its veins, so as to lead us to penetrate the earth in -search of it. I visited last summer a large coalmine at Whitehaven, in -Cumberland; and in following the vein, and descending by degrees towards -the sea, I penetrated below the ocean where the level of its surface was -more than eight hundred fathoms above my head, and the miners assured me -that their works extended some miles beyond the place where I then was, -continually and gradually descending under the sea. The slate, which -forms the roof of this coalmine, is impressed in many places with the -figures of leaves and branches of fern, which undoubtedly grew at the -surface when the slate was in the state of sand on the banks of the sea. -Thus it appears that this vein of coal has suffered a prodigious -settlement. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -CAUSES OF EARTHQUAKES. - -The late earthquake felt here, and probably in all the neighbouring -provinces, having made many people desirous to know what may be the -natural cause of such violent concussions, we shall endeavour to gratify -their curiosity by giving them the various opinions of the learned on -that head. - -Here naturalists are divided. Some ascribe them to water, others to -fire, and others to air, and all of them with some appearance of reason. -To conceive which, it is to be observed that the earth everywhere -abounds in huge subterraneous caverns, veins, and canals, particularly -about the roots of mountains; that of these cavities, veins, &c., some -are full of water, whence are composed gulfs, abysses, springs, -rivulets; and others full of exhalations; and that some parts of the -earth are replete with nitre, sulphur, bitumen, vitriol, &c. This -premised, - -1. The earth itself may sometimes be the cause of its own shaking; when -the roots or basis of some large mass being dissolved, or worn away by a -fluid underneath, it sinks into the same, and, with its weight, -occasions a tremour of the adjacent parts, produces a noise, and -frequently an inundation of water. - -2. The subterraneous waters may occasion earthquakes by their -overflowing, cutting out new courses, &c. Add that the water, being -heated and rarefied by the subterraneous fires, may emit fumes, blasts, -&c., which, by their action either on the water or immediately on the -earth itself, may occasion great succussions. - -3. The air may be the cause of earthquakes; for the air being a -collection of fumes and vapours raised from the earth and water, if it -be pent up in too narrow viscera of the earth, the subterraneous or its -own native heat rarefying and expanding it, the force wherewith it -endeavours to escape may shake the earth; hence there arises divers -species of earthquakes, according to the different position, quantity, -&c., of the imprisoned _aura_. - -Lastly, fire is a principal cause of earthquakes; both as it produces -the aforesaid subterraneous _aura_ or vapours, and as this _aura_ or -spirit, from the different matter and composition whereof arise sulphur, -bitumen, and other inflammable matters, takes fire, either from other -fire it meets withal, or from its collision against hard bodies, or its -intermixture with other fluids; by which means, bursting out into a -greater compass, the place becomes too narrow for it, so that, pressing -against it on all sides, the adjoining parts are shaken, till, having -made itself a passage, it spends itself in a volcano or burning -mountain. - -But to come nearer to the point. Dr. Lister is of opinion that the -material cause of thunder, lightning, and earthquakes, is one and the -same, viz., the inflammable breath of the pyrites, which is a -substantial sulphur, and takes fire of itself. - -The difference between these three terrible phenomena he takes only to -consist in this: that the sulphur in the former is fired in the air, and -in the latter under ground. Which is a notion Pliny had long before him: -"_Quid enim_," says he, "_aliud est in terrâ tremor, quam in nube -tonitru?_" For wherein does the trembling of the earth differ from that -occasioned by thunder in the clouds? - -This he thinks abundantly indicated by the same sulphurous smell being -found in anything burned with lightning, and in the waters, &c., cast up -in earthquakes, and even in the air before and after them. - -Add that they agree in the manner of the noise which is carried on, as -in a train fired; the one, rolling and rattling through the air, takes -fire as the vapours chance to drive; as the other, fired under ground in -like manner, moves with a desultory noise. - -Thunder, which is the effect of the trembling of the air, caused by the -same vapours dispersed through it, has force enough to shake our houses; -and why there may not be thunder and lightning under ground, in some -vast repositories there, I see no reason; especially if we reflect that -the matter which composes the noisy vapour above us is in much larger -quantities under ground. - -That the earth abounds in cavities everybody allows; and that these -subterraneous cavities are, at certain times and in certain seasons, -full of inflammable vapours, the damps in mines sufficiently witness, -which, fired, do everything as in an earthquake, save in a lesser -degree. - -Add that the pyrites alone, of all the known minerals, yields this -inflammable vapour, is highly probable; for that no mineral or ore -whatsoever is sulphurous, but as it is wholly or in part a pyrites, and -that there is but one species of brimstone which the pyrites naturally -and only yields. The _sulphur vive_, or natural brimstone, which is -found in and about the burning mountains, is certainly the effects of -sublimation, and those great quantities of it said to be found about the -skirts of volcanoes is only an argument of the long duration and -vehemence of those fires. Possibly the pyrites of the volcanoes, or -burning mountains, may be more sulphurous than ours; and, indeed, it is -plain that some of ours in England are very lean, and hold but little -sulphur; others again very much, which may be some reason why England is -so little troubled with earthquakes, and Italy, and almost all round the -Mediterranean Sea, so much; though another reason is, the paucity of -pyrites in England. - -Comparing our earthquakes, thunder, and lightning, with theirs, it is -observed that there it lightens almost daily, especially in summer-time, -here seldom; there thunder and lightning is of long duration, here it is -soon over; there the earthquakes are frequent, long, and terrible, with -many paroxysms in a day, and that for many days; here very short, a few -minutes, and scarce perceptible. To this purpose the subterraneous -caverns in England are small and few compared to the vast vaults in -those parts of the world; which is evident from the sudden disappearance -of whole mountains and islands. - -Dr. Woodward gives us another theory of earthquakes. He endeavours to -show that the subterraneous heat or fire (which is continually elevating -water out of the abyss, to furnish the earth with rain, dew, springs, -and rivers), being stopped in any part of the earth, and so diverted -from its ordinary course by some accidental glut or obstruction in the -pores or passages through which it used to ascend to the surface, -becomes, by such means, preternaturally assembled in a greater quantity -than usual into one place, and therefore causeth a great rarefaction and -intumescence of the water of the abyss, putting it into great commotions -and disorders, and at the same time making the like effort on the earth, -which, being expanded upon the face of the abyss, occasions that -agitation and concussion we call an earthquake. - -This effort in some earthquakes, he observes, is so vehement, that it -splits and tears the earth, making cracks and chasms in it some miles in -length, which open at the instant of the shock, and close again in the -intervals between them; nay, it is sometimes so violent that it forces -the superincumbent strata, breaks them all throughout, and thereby -perfectly undermines and ruins the foundation of them; so that, these -failing, the whole tract, as soon as the shock is over, sinks down into -the abyss, and is swallowed up by it, the water thereof immediately -rising up and forming a lake in the place where the said tract before -was. That this effort being made in all directions indifferently, the -fire, dilating and expanding on all hands, and endeavouring to get room -and make its way through all obstacles, falls as foul on the waters of -the abyss beneath as on the earth above, forcing it forth, which way -soever it can find vent or passage, as well through its ordinary exits, -wells, springs, and the outlets of rivers, as through the chasms then -newly opened, through the _camini_ or spiracles of Ćtna, or other -neighbouring volcanoes, and those hiatuses at the bottom of the sea -whereby the abyss below opens into it and communicates with it. That as -the water resident in the abyss is, in all parts of it, stored with a -considerable quantity of heat, and more especially in those where those -extraordinary aggregations of this fire happen, so likewise is the water -which is thus forced out of it, insomuch that, when thrown forth and -mixed with the waters of wells, or springs of rivers and the sea, it -renders them very sensibly hot. - -He adds, that though the abyss be liable to those commotions in all -parts, yet the effects are nowhere very remarkable except in those -countries which are mountainous, and, consequently, stony or cavernous -underneath; and especially where the disposition of the strata is such -that those caverns open the abyss, and so freely admit and entertain the -fire which, assembling therein, is the cause of the shock; it naturally -steering its course that way where it finds the readiest reception, -which is towards those caverns. Besides, that those parts of the earth -which abound with strata of stone or marble, making the strongest -opposition to this effort, are the most furiously shattered, and suffer -much more by it than those which consist of gravel, sand, and the like -laxer matter, which more easily give way, and make not so great -resistance. But, above all, those countries which yield great store of -sulphur and nitre are by far the most injured by earthquakes; those -minerals constituting in the earth a kind of natural gunpowder, which, -taking fire upon this assemblage and approach of it, occasions that -murmuring noise, that subterraneous thunder, which is heard rumbling in -the bowels of the earth during earthquakes, and by the assistance of its -explosive power renders the shock much greater, so as sometimes to make -miserable havoc and destruction. - -And it is for this reason that Italy, Sicily, Anatolia, and some parts -of Greece, have been so long and often alarmed and harassed by -earthquakes; these countries being all mountainous and cavernous, -abounding with stone and marble, and affording sulphur and nitre in -great plenty. - -Farther, that Ćtna, Vesuvius, Hecla, and the other volcanoes, are only -so many spiracles, serving for the discharge of this subterraneous fire, -when it is thus preternaturally assembled. That where there happens to -be such a structure and conformation of the interior part of the earth, -as that the fire may pass freely, and without impediment, from the -caverns wherein it assembles unto those spiracles, it then readily gets -out, from time to time, without shaking or disturbing the earth; but -where such communication is wanting, or passage not sufficiently large -and open, so that it cannot come at the spiracles, it heaves up and -shocks the earth with greater or lesser impetuosity, according to the -quantity of fire thus assembled, till it has made its way to the mouth -of the volcano. That, therefore, there are scarce any countries much -annoyed by earthquakes but have one of these fiery vents, which are -constantly in flames when any earthquake happens, as disgorging that -fire which, while underneath, was the cause of the disaster. Lastly, -that were it not for these _diverticula_, it would rage in the bowels of -the earth much more furiously, and make greater havoc than it doth. - -We have seen what fire and water may do, and that either of them are -sufficient for all the phenomena of earthquakes; if they should both -fail, we have a third agent scarce inferior to either of them; the -reader must not be surprised when we tell him it is air. - -Monsieur Amontons, in his _Mémoires de l'Académie des Sciences, An. -1703_, has an express discourse to prove, that on the foot of the new -experiments of the weight and spring of the air, a moderate degree of -heat may bring the air into a condition capable of causing earthquakes. -It is shown that at the depth of 43,528 fathoms below the surface of the -earth, air is only one fourth less heavy than mercury. Now this depth of -43,528 fathoms is only a seventy-fourth part of the semi-diameter of the -earth. And the vast sphere beyond this depth, in diameter 6,451,538 -fathoms, may probably be only filled with air, which will be here -greatly condensed, and much heavier than the heaviest bodies we know in -nature. But it is found by experiment that, the more air is compressed, -the more does the same degree of heat increase its spring, and the more -capable does it render it of a violent effect; and that, for instance, -the degree of heat of boiling water increases the spring of the air -above what it has in its natural state, in our climate, by a quantity -equal to a third of the weight wherewith it is pressed. Whence we may -conclude that a degree of heat, which on the surface of the earth will -only have a moderate effect, may be capable of a very violent one below. -And as we are assured that there are in nature degrees of heat much more -considerable than boiling water, it is very possible there may be some -whose violence, farther assisted by the exceeding weight of the air, may -be more than sufficient to break and overturn this solid orb of 43,528 -fathoms, whose weight, compared to that of the included air, would be -but a trifle. - -Chymistry furnishes us a method of making artificial earthquakes which -shall have all the great effects of natural ones; which, as it may -illustrate the process of nature in the production of these terrible -phenomena under ground, we shall here add. - -To twenty pounds of iron filings add as many of sulphur; mix, work, and -temper the whole together with a little water, so as to form a mass half -wet and half dry. This being buried three or four feet under ground, in -six or seven hours time will have a prodigious effect; the earth will -begin to tremble, crack, and smoke, and fire and flame burst through. - -Such is the effect even of the two cold bodies in cold ground; there -only wants a sufficient quantity of this mixture to produce a true Ćtna. -If it were supposed to burst out under the sea, it would produce a -spout; and if it were in the clouds, the effect would be thunder and -lightning. - -An earthquake is defined to be a vehement shake or agitation of some -considerable place, or part of the earth, from natural causes, attended -with a huge noise like thunder, and frequently with an eruption of -water, or fire, or smoke, or winds, &c. - -They are the greatest and most formidable phenomena of nature. Aristotle -and Pliny distinguish two kinds, with respect to the manner of the -shake, viz., a tremour and a pulsation; the first being horizontal, in -alternate vibrations, compared to the shaking of a person in an ague; -the second perpendicular, up and down, their motion resembling that of -boiling. - -Agricola increases the number, and makes four kinds, which Albertus -Magnus again reduces to three, viz., inclination, when the earth -vibrates alternately from right to left, by which mountains have been -sometimes brought to meet and clash against each other; pulsation, when -it beats up and down, like an artery; and trembling, when it shakes and -totters every way, like a flame. - -The Philosophical Transactions furnish us with abundance of histories of -earthquakes, particularly one at Oxford in 1665, by Dr. Wallis and Mr. -Boyle. Another at the same place in 1683, by Mr. Pigot. Another in -Sicily, in 1692-3, by Mr. Hartop, Father Alessandro Burgos, and Vin. -Bonajutus, which last is one of the most terrible ones in all history. - -It shook the whole island; and not only that, but Naples and Malta -shared in the shock. It was of the second kind mentioned by Aristotle -and Pliny, viz., a perpendicular pulsation or succussion. It was -impossible, says the noble Bonajutus, for anybody in this country to -keep on their legs on the dancing earth; nay, those that lay on the -ground were tossed from side to side as on a rolling billow; high walls -leaped from their foundations several paces. - -The mischief it did is amazing; almost all the buildings in the -countries were thrown down. Fifty-four cities and towns, besides an -incredible number of villages, were either destroyed or greatly damaged. -We shall only instance the fate of Catania, one of the most famous, -ancient, and flourishing cities in the kingdom, the residence of several -monarchs, and a university. "This once famous, now unhappy Catania," to -use words of Father Burgos, "had the greatest share in the tragedy. -Father Antonio Serovita, being on his way thither, and at the distance -of a few miles, observed a black cloud, like night, hovering over the -city, and there arose from the mouth of Mongibello great spires of -flame, which spread all around. The sea, all of a sudden, began to roar -and rise in billows, and there was a blow, as if all the artillery in -the world had been at once discharged. The birds flew about astonished, -the cattle in the fields ran crying, &c. His and his companion's horse -stopped short, trembling; so that they were forced to alight. They were -no sooner off but they were lifted from the ground above two palms. -When, casting his eyes towards Catania, he with amazement saw nothing -but a thick cloud of dust in the air. This was the scene of their -calamity; for of the magnificent Catania there is not the least footstep -to be seen." Bonajutus assures us, that of 18,914 inhabitants, 18,000 -perished therein. The same author, from a computation of the inhabitants -before and after the earthquake, in the several cities and towns, finds -that near 60,000 perished out of 254,900. - -Jamaica is remarkable for earthquakes. The inhabitants, Dr. Sloane -informs us, expect one every year. The author gives the history of one -in 1687; another horrible one, in 1692, is described by several -anonymous authors. In two minutes' time it shook down and drowned nine -tenths of the town of Port Royal. The houses sunk outright, thirty or -forty fathoms deep. The earth, opening, swallowed up people, and they -rose in other streets; some in the middle of the harbour, and yet were -saved; though there were two thousand people lost, and one thousand -acres of land sunk. All the houses were thrown down throughout the -island. One Hopkins had his plantation removed half a mile from its -place. Of all wells, from one fathom to six or seven, the water flew out -at the top with a vehement motion. While the houses on the one side of -the street were swallowed up, on the other they were thrown in heaps; -and the sand in the street rose like waves in the sea, lifting up -everybody that stood on it, and immediately dropping down into pits; and -at the same instant, a flood of waters breaking in, rolled them over -and over; some catching hold of beams and rafters, &c. Ships and sloops -in the harbour were overset and lost; the Swan frigate particularly, by -the motion of the sea and sinking of the wharf, was driven over the tops -of many houses. - -It was attended with a hollow rumbling noise like that of thunder. In -less than a minute three quarters of the houses, and the ground they -stood on, with the inhabitants, were all sunk quite under water, and the -little part left behind was no better than a heap of rubbish. The shake -was so violent that it threw people down on their knees or their faces, -as they were running about for shelter. The ground heaved and swelled -like a rolling sea, and several houses, still standing, were shuffled -and moved some yards out of their places. A whole street is said to be -twice as broad now as before; and in many places the earth would crack, -and open, and shut, quick and fast, of which openings two or three -hundred might be seen at a time; in some whereof the people were -swallowed up, others the closing earth caught by the middle and pressed -to death, in others the heads only appeared. The larger openings -swallowed up houses; and out of some would issue whole rivers of waters, -spouted up a great height into the air, and threatening a deluge to that -part the earthquake spared. The whole was attended with stenches and -offensive smells, the noise of falling mountains at a distance, &c., and -the sky in a minute's time was turned dull and reddish, like a glowing -oven. Yet, as great a sufferer as Port Royal was, more houses were left -standing therein than on the whole island besides. Scarce a -planting-house or sugar-work was left standing in all Jamaica. A great -part of them were swallowed up, houses, people, trees, and all at one -gape; in lieu of which afterward appeared great pools of water, which, -when dried up, left nothing but sand, without any mark that ever tree -or plant had been thereon. - -Above twelve miles from the sea the earth gaped and spouted out, with a -prodigious force, vast quantities of water into the air, yet the -greatest violences were among the mountains and rocks; and it is a -general opinion, that the nearer the mountains, the greater the shake, -and that the cause thereof lay there. Most of the rivers were stopped up -for twenty-four hours by the falling of the mountains, till, swelling -up, they found themselves new tracts and channels, tearing up in their -passage trees, &c. After the great shake, those people who escaped got -on board ships in the harbour, where many continued above two months; -the shakes all that time being so violent, and coming so thick, -sometimes two or three in an hour, accompanied with frightful noises, -like a ruffling wind, or a hollow, rumbling thunder, with brimstone -blasts, that they durst not come ashore. The consequence of the -earthquake was a general sickness, from the noisome vapours belched -forth, which swept away above three thousand persons. - -After the detail of these horrible convulsions, the reader will have but -little curiosity left for the less considerable phenomena of the -earthquake at Lima in 1687, described by Father Alvarez de Toledo, -wherein above five thousand persons were destroyed; this being of the -vibratory kind, so that the bells in the church rung of themselves; or -that at Batavia in 1699, by Witsen; that in the north of England in -1703, by Mr. Thoresby; or, lastly, those in New-England in 1663 and -1670, by Dr. Mather. - - * * * * * - -_To David Rittenhouse._ - - _New and curious Theory of Light and Heat._--Read in the American - Philosophical Society, November 20, 1788. - -Universal space, as far as we know of it, seems to be filled with a -subtile fluid, whose motion or vibration is called light. - -This fluid may possibly be the same with that which, being attracted by, -and entering into other more solid matter, dilutes the substance by -separating the constituent particles, and so rendering some solids -fluid, and maintaining the fluidity of others; of which fluid, when our -bodies are totally deprived, they are said to be frozen; when they have -a proper quantity, they are in health, and fit to perform all their -functions; it is then called natural heat; when too much, it is called -fever; and when forced into the body in too great a quantity from -without, it gives pain, by separating and destroying the flesh, and is -then called burning, and the fluid so entering and acting is called -fire. - -While organized bodies, animal or vegetable, are augmenting in growth, -or are supplying their continual waste, is not this done by attracting -and consolidating this fluid called fire, so as to form of it a part of -their substance? And is it not a separation of the parts of such -substance, which, dissolving its solid state, sets that subtile fluid at -liberty, when it again makes its appearance as fire? - -For the power of man relative to matter seems limited to the separating -or mixing the various kinds of it, or changing its form and appearance -by different compositions of it; but does not extend to the making or -creating new matter, or annihilating the old. Thus, if fire be an -original element or kind of matter, its quantity is fixed and permanent -in the universe. We cannot destroy any part of it, or make addition to -it; we can only separate it from that which confines it, and so set it -at liberty; as when we put wood in a situation to be burned, or -transfer it from one solid to another, as when we make lime by burning -stone, a part of the fire dislodged in the fuel being left in the stone. -May not this fluid, when at liberty, be capable of penetrating and -entering into all bodies, organized or not, quitting easily in totality -those not organized, and quitting easily in part those which are; the -part assumed and fixed remaining till the body is dissolved? - -Is it not this fluid which keeps asunder the particles of air, -permitting them to approach, or separating them more in proportion as -its quantity is diminished or augmented? - -Is it not the greater gravity of the particles of air which forces the -particles of this fluid to mount with the matters to which it is -attached, as smoke or vapour? - -Does it not seem to have a greater affinity with water, since it will -quit a solid to unite with that fluid, and go off with it in vapour, -leaving the solid cold to the touch, and the degree measurable by the -thermometer? - -The vapour rises attached to this fluid, but at a certain height they -separate, and the vapour descends in rain, retaining but little of it, -in snow or hail less. What becomes of that fluid? Does it rise above our -atmosphere, and mix with the universal mass of the same kind? - -Or does a spherical stratum of it, denser, as less mixed with air, -attracted by this globe, and repelled or pushed up only to a certain -height from its surface by the greater weight of air, remain there -surrounding the globe, and proceeding with it round the sun? - -In such case, as there may be a continuity of communication of this -fluid through the air quite down to the earth, is it not by the -vibrations given to it by the sun that light appears to us? And may it -not be that every one of the infinitely small vibrations, striking -common matter with a certain force, enters its substance, is held there -by attraction, and augmented by succeeding vibrations till the matter -has received as much as their force can drive into it? - -Is it not thus that the surface of this globe is continually heated by -such repeated vibrations in the day, and cooled by the escape of the -heat when those vibrations are discontinued in the night, or intercepted -and reflected by clouds? - -Is it not thus that fire is amassed, and makes the greatest part of the -substance of combustible bodies? - -Perhaps, when this globe was first formed, and its original particles -took their place at certain distances from the centre, in proportion to -their greater or less gravity, the fluid fire, attracted towards that -centre, might in great part be obliged, as lightest, to take place above -the rest, and thus form the sphere of fire above supposed, which would -afterward be continually diminishing by the substance it afforded to -organized bodies, and the quantity restored to it again by the burning -or other separating of the parts of those bodies? - -Is not the natural heat of animals thus produced, by separating in -digestion the parts of food, and setting their fire at liberty? - -Is it not this sphere of fire which kindles the wandering globes that -sometimes pass through it in our course round the sun, have their -surface kindled by it, and burst when their included air is greatly -rarefied by the heat on their burning surfaces? - -May it not have been from such considerations that the ancient -philosophers supposed a sphere of fire to exist above the air of our -atmosphere? - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - - _Of Lightning; and the Methods now used in America for the securing - Buildings and Persons from its mischievous Effects._ - -Experiments made in electricity first gave philosophers a suspicion that -the matter of lightning was the same with the electric matter. -Experiments afterward made on lightning obtained from the clouds by -pointed rods, received into bottles, and subjected to every trial, have -since proved this suspicion to be perfectly well founded; and that, -whatever properties we find in electricity, are also the properties of -lightning. - -This matter of lightning or of electricity is an extreme subtile fluid, -penetrating other bodies, and subsisting in them, equally diffused. - -When, by any operation of art or nature, there happens to be a greater -proportion of this fluid in one body than in another, the body which has -most will communicate to that which has least, till the proportion -becomes equal; provided the distance between them be not too great; or, -if it is too great, till there be proper conductors to convey it from -one to the other. - -If the communication be through the air without any conductor, a bright -light is seen between the bodies, and a sound is heard. In our small -experiments we call this light and sound the electric spark and snap; -but in the great operations of nature the light is what we call -_lightning_, and the sound (produced at the same time, though generally -arriving later at our ears than the light does to our eyes) is, with its -echoes, called _thunder_. - -If the communication of this fluid is by a conductor, it may be without -either light or sound, the subtile fluid passing in the substance of the -conductor. - -If the conductor be good and of sufficient bigness, the fluid passes -through it without hurting it. If otherwise, it is damaged or -destroyed. - -All metals and water are good conductors. Other bodies may become -conductors by having some quantity of water in them, as wood and other -materials used in building; but, not having much water in them, they are -not good conductors, and, therefore, are often damaged in the operation. - -Glass, wax, silk, wool, hair, feathers, and even wood, perfectly dry, -are non-conductors: that is, they resist instead of facilitating the -passage of this subtile fluid. - -When this fluid has an opportunity of passing through two conductors, -one good and sufficient, as of metal, the other not so good, it passes -in the best, and will follow it in any direction. - -The distance at which a body charged with this fluid will discharge -itself suddenly, striking through the air into another body that is not -charged or not so highly charged, is different according to the quantity -of the fluid, the dimensions and form of the bodies themselves, and the -state of the air between them. This distance, whatever it happens to be, -between any two bodies, is called the _striking distance_, as, till they -come within that distance of each other, no stroke will be made. - -The clouds have often more of this fluid, in proportion, than the earth; -in which case, as soon as they come near enough (that is, within the -striking distance) or meet with a conductor, the fluid quits them and -strikes into the earth. A cloud fully charged with this fluid, if so -high as to be beyond the striking distance from the earth, passes -quietly without making noise or giving light, unless it meets with other -clouds that have less. - -Tall trees and lofty buildings, as the towers and spires of churches, -become sometimes conductors between the clouds and the earth; but, not -being good ones, that is, not conveying the fluid freely, they are often -damaged. - -Buildings that have their roofs covered with lead or other metal, the -spouts of metal continued from the roof into the ground to carry off the -water, are never hurt by lightning as, whenever it falls on such a -building, it passes in the metals and not in the walls. - -When other buildings happen to be within the striking distance from such -clouds, the fluid passes in the walls, whether of wood, brick, or stone, -quitting the walls only when it can find better conductors near them, as -metal rods, bolts, and hinges of windows or doors, gilding on wainscot -or frames of pictures, the silvering on the backs of looking-glasses, -the wires for bells, and the bodies of animals, as containing watery -fluids. And, in passing through the house, it follows the direction of -these conductors, taking as many in its way as can assist it in its -passage, whether in a straight or crooked line, leaping from one to the -other, if not far distant from each other, only rending the wall in the -spaces where these partial good conductors are too distant from each -other. - -An iron rod being placed on the outside of a building, from the highest -part continued down into the moist earth in any direction, straight or -crooked, following the form of the roof or parts of the building, will -receive the lightning at the upper end, attracting it so as to prevent -its striking any other part, and affording it a good conveyance into the -earth, will prevent its damaging any part of the building. - -A small quantity of metal is found able to conduct a great quantity of -this fluid. A wire no bigger than a goosequill has been known to conduct -(with safety to the building as far as the wire was continued) a -quantity of lightning that did prodigious damage both above and below -it; and probably larger rods are not necessary, though it is common in -America to make them of half an inch, some of three quarters or an inch -diameter. - -The rod may be fastened to the wall, chimney &c., with staples of iron. -The lightning will not leave the rod (a good conductor) through those -staples. It would rather, if any were in the walls, pass out of it into -the rod, to get more readily by that conductor into the earth. - -If the building be very large and extensive, two or more rods may be -placed at different parts, for greater security. - -Small ragged parts of clouds, suspended in the air between the great -body of clouds and the earth (like leaf gold in electrical experiments) -often serve as partial conductors for the lightning, which proceeds from -one of them to another, and by their help comes within the striking -distance to the earth or a building. It therefore strikes through those -conductors a building that would otherwise be out of the striking -distance. - -Long sharp points communicating with the earth, and presented to such -parts of clouds, drawing silently from them the fluid they are charged -with, they are then attracted to the cloud, and may leave the distance -so great as to be beyond the reach of striking. - -It is therefore that we elevate the upper end of the rod six or eight -feet above the highest part of the building, tapering it gradually to a -fine sharp point, which is gilt to prevent its rusting. - -Thus the pointed rod either prevents the stroke from the cloud, or, if a -stroke is made, conducts it to the earth with safety to the building. - -The lower end of the rod should enter the earth so deep as to come at -the moist part, perhaps two or three feet; and if bent when under the -surface so as to go in a horizontal line six or eight feet from the -wall, and then bent again downward three or four feet, it will prevent -damage to any of the stones of the foundation. - -A person apprehensive of danger from lightning, happening during the -time of thunder to be in a house not so secured, will do well to avoid -sitting near the chimney, near a looking-glass, or any gilt pictures or -wainscot; the safest place is the middle of the room (so it be not under -a metal lustre suspended by a chain), sitting on one chair and laying -the feet up in another. It is still safer to bring two or three -mattresses or beds into the middle of the room, and, folding them up -double, place the chair upon them; for they not being so good conductors -as the walls, the lightning will not choose an interrupted course -through the air of the room and the bedding, when it can go through a -continued better conductor, the wall. But where it can be had, a hammock -or swinging bed, suspended by silk cords equally distant from the walls -on every side, and from the ceiling and floor above and below, affords -the safest situation a person can have in any room whatever; and what, -indeed, may be deemed quite free from danger of any stroke by lightning. - - B. FRANKLIN. - -Paris, September, 1767. - - * * * * * - -_To Peter Collinson, London._ - -ELECTRICAL KITE. - - Philadelphia, October 16, 1752. - -As frequent mention is made in public papers from Europe of the success -of the Philadelphia experiment for drawing the electric fire from clouds -by means of pointed rods of iron erected on high buildings, &c., it may -be agreeable to the curious to be informed that the same experiment has -succeeded in Philadelphia, though made in a different and more easy -manner, which is as follows: - -Make a small cross of two light strips of cedar, the arms so long as to -reach to the four corners of a large thin silk handkerchief when -extended; tie the corners of the handkerchief to the extremities of the -cross, so you have the body of a kite, which, being properly -accommodated with a tail, loop, and string, will rise in the air like -those made of paper; but this, being of silk, is fitter to bear the wet -and wind of a thunder-gust without tearing. To the top of the upright -stick of the cross is to be fixed a very sharp-pointed wire, rising a -foot or more above the wood. To the end of the twine next the hand is to -be tied a silk riband, and where the silk and twine join, a key may be -fastened. This kite is to be raised when a thunder-gust appears to be -coming on, and the person who holds the string must stand within a door -or window, or under some cover, so that the silk riband may not be wet; -and care must be taken that the twine does not touch the frame of the -door or window. As soon as any of the thunder-clouds come over the kite, -the pointed wire will draw the electric fire from them, and the kite, -with all the twine, will be electrified, and the loose filaments of the -twine will stand out every way, and be attracted by an approaching -finger. And when the rain has wetted the kite and twine, so that it can -conduct the electric fire freely, you will find it stream out -plentifully from the key on the approach of your knuckle. At this key -the vial may be charged; and from electric fire thus obtained, spirits -may be kindled, and all the other electric experiments be performed, -which are usually done by the help of a rubbed glass globe or tube, and -thereby the sameness of the electric matter with that of lightning -completely demonstrated. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - - _Physical and Meteorological Observations, Conjectures, and - Suppositions._--Read at the Royal Society, June 3, 1756. - -The particles of air are kept at a distance from each other by their -mutual repulsion * * * - -Whatever particles of other matter (not endued with that repellancy) are -supported in air, must adhere to the particles of air, and be supported -by them; for in the vacancies there is nothing they can rest on. - -Air and water mutually attract each other. Hence water will dissolve in -air, as salt in water. - -The specific gravity of matter is not altered by dividing the matter, -though the superfices be increased. Sixteen leaden bullets, of an ounce -each, weigh as much in water as one of a pound, whose superfices is -less. - -Therefore the supporting of salt in water is not owing to its superfices -being increased. - -A lump of salt, though laid at rest at the bottom of a vessel of water, -will dissolve therein, and its parts move every way, till equally -diffused in the water; therefore there is a mutual attraction between -water and salt. Every particle of water assumes as many of salt as can -adhere to it; when more is added, it precipitates, and will not remain -suspended. - -Water, in the same manner, will dissolve in air, every particle of air -assuming one or more particles of water. When too much is added, it -precipitates in rain. - -But there not being the same contiguity between the particles of air as -of water, the solution of water in air is not carried on without a -motion of the air so as to cause a fresh accession of dry particles. - -Part of a fluid, having more of what it dissolves, will communicate to -other parts that have less. Thus very salt water, coming in contact with -fresh, communicates its saltness till all is equal, and the sooner if -there is a little motion of the water. * * * - -Air, suffering continual changes in the degrees of its heat, from -various causes and circumstances, and, consequently, changes in its -specific gravity, must therefore be in continual motion. - -A small quantity of fire mixed with water (or degree of heat therein) so -weakens the cohesion of its particles, that those on the surface easily -quit it and adhere to the particles of air. - -Air moderately heated will support a greater quantity of water invisibly -than cold air; for its particles being by heat repelled to a greater -distance from each other, thereby more easily keep the particles of -water that are annexed to them from running into cohesions that would -obstruct, refract, or reflect the light. - -Hence, when we breathe in warm air, though the same quantity of moisture -may be taken up from the lungs as when we breathe in cold air, yet that -moisture is not so visible. - -Water being extremely heated, _i. e._, to the degree of boiling, its -particles, in quitting it, so repel each other as to take up vastly more -space than before and by that repellancy support themselves, expelling -the air from the space they occupy. That degree of heat being lessened, -they again mutually attract, and having no air particles mixed to adhere -to, by which they might be supported and kept at a distance, they -instantly fall, coalesce, and become water again. - -The water commonly diffused in our atmosphere never receives such a -degree of heat from the sun or other cause as water has when boiling; it -is not, therefore, supported by such heat, but by adhering to air. * * * - -A particle of air loaded with adhering water or any other matter, is -heavier than before, and would descend. - -The atmosphere supposed at rest, a loaded descending particle must act -with a force on the particles it passes between or meets with sufficient -to overcome, in some degree, their mutual repellancy, and push them -nearer to each other. * * * - -Every particle of air, therefore, will bear any load inferior to the -force of these repulsions. - -Hence the support of fogs, mists, clouds. - -Very warm air, clear, though supporting a very great quantity of -moisture, will grow turbid and cloudy on the mixture of colder air, as -foggy, turbid air will grow clear by warming. - -Thus the sun, shining on a morning fog, dissipates it; clouds are seen -to waste in a sunshiny day. - -But cold condenses and renders visible the vapour: a tankard or decanter -filled with cold water will condense the moisture of warm, clear air on -its outside, where it becomes visible as dew, coalesces into drops, -descends in little streams. - -The sun heats the air of our atmosphere most near the surface of the -earth; for there, besides the direct rays, there are many reflections. -Moreover, the earth itself, being heated, communicates of its heat to -the neighbouring air. - -The higher regions, having only the direct rays of the sun passing -through them, are comparatively very cold. Hence the cold air on the -tops of mountains, and snow on some of them all the year, even in the -torrid zone. Hence hail in summer. - -If the atmosphere were, all of it (both above and below), always of the -same temper as to cold or heat, then the upper air would always be -_rarer_ than the lower, because the pressure on it is less; consequently -lighter, and, therefore, would keep its place. - -But the upper air may be more condensed by cold than the lower air by -pressure; the lower more expanded by heat than the upper for want of -pressure. In such case the upper air will become the heavier, the lower -the lighter. - -The lower region of air being heated and expanded, heaves up and -supports for some time the colder, heavier air above, and will continue -to support it while the equilibrium is kept. Thus water is supported in -an inverted open glass, while the equilibrium is maintained by the equal -pressure upward of the air below; but the equilibrium by any means -breaking, the water descends on the heavier side, and the air rises into -its place. - -The lifted heavy cold air over a heated country becoming by any means -unequally supported or unequal in its weight, the heaviest part descends -first, and the rest follows impetuously. Hence gusts after heats, and -hurricanes in hot climates. Hence the air of gusts and hurricanes is -cold, though in hot climates and seasons; it coming from above. - -The cold air descending from above, as it penetrates our warm region -full of watery particles, condenses them, renders them visible, forms a -cloud thick and dark, overcasting sometimes, at once, large and -extensive; sometimes, when seen at a distance, small at first, gradually -increasing; the cold edge or surface of the cloud condensing the vapours -next it, which form smaller clouds that join it, increase its bulk, it -descends with the wind and its acquired weight, draws nearer the earth, -grows denser with continual additions of water, and discharges heavy -showers. - -Small black clouds thus appearing in a clear sky, in hot climates -portend storms, and warn seamen to hand their sails. - -The earth turning on its axis in about twenty-four hours, the equatorial -parts must move about fifteen miles in each minute; in northern and -southern latitudes this motion is gradually less to the poles, and there -nothing. - -If there was a general calm over the face of the globe, it must be by -the air's moving in every part as fast as the earth or sea it covers. * -* * - -The air under the equator and between the tropics being constantly -heated and rarefied by the sun, rises. Its place is supplied by air from -northern and southern latitudes, which, coming from parts wherein the -earth and air had less motion, and not suddenly acquiring the quicker -motion of the equatorial earth, appears an east wind blowing westward; -the earth moving from west to east, and slipping under the air.[37] - - [37] See a paper on this subject, by the late ingenious Mr. Hadley, - in the Philadelphia Transactions, wherein this hypothesis of - explaining the tradewinds first appeared. - -Thus, when we ride in a calm, it seems a wind against us: if we ride -with the wind, and faster, even that will seem a small wind against us. - -The air rarefied between the tropics, and rising, must flow in the -higher region north and south. Before it rose it had acquired the -greatest motion the earth's rotation could give it. It retains some -degree of this motion, and descending in higher latitudes, where the -earth's motion is less, will appear a westerly wind, yet tending towards -the equatorial parts, to supply the vacancy occasioned by the air of the -lower regions flowing thitherward. - -Hence our general cold winds are about northwest, our summer cold gusts -the same. - -The air in sultry weather, though not cloudy, has a kind of haziness in -it, which makes objects at a distance appear dull and indistinct. This -haziness is occasioned by the great quantity of moisture equally -diffused in that air. When, by the cold wind blowing down among it, it -is condensed into clouds, and falls in rain, the air becomes purer and -clearer. Hence, after gusts, distant objects appear distinct, their -figures sharply terminated. - -Extreme cold winds congeal the surface of the earth by carrying off its -fire. Warm winds afterward blowing over that frozen surface will be -chilled by it. Could that frozen surface be turned under, and warmer -turned up from beneath it, those warm winds would not be chilled so -much. - -The surface of the earth is also sometimes much heated by the sun: and -such heated surface, not being changed, heats the air that moves over -it. - -Seas, lakes, and great bodies of water, agitated by the winds, -continually change surfaces; the cold surface in winter is turned under -by the rolling of the waves, and a warmer turned up; in summer the warm -is turned under, and colder turned up. Hence the more equal temper of -seawater, and the air over it. Hence, in winter, winds from the sea seem -warm, winds from the land cold. In summer the contrary. - -Therefore the lakes northwest of us,[38] as they are not so much frozen, -nor so apt to freeze as the earth, rather moderate than increase the -coldness of our winter winds. - - [38] In Pennsylvania. - -The air over the sea being warmer, and, therefore, lighter in winter -than the air over the frozen land, may be another cause of our general -northwest winds, which blow off to sea at right angles from our North -American coast. The warm, light sea-air rising, the heavy, cold land-air -pressing into its place. - -Heavy fluids, descending, frequently form eddies or whirlpools, as is -seen in a funnel, where the water acquires a circular motion, receding -every way from a centre, and leaving a vacancy in the middle, greatest -above, and lessening downward, like a speaking-trumpet, its big end -upward. - -Air, descending or ascending, may form the same kind of eddies or -whirlings, the parts of air acquiring a circular motion, and receding -from the middle of the circle by a centrifugal force, and leaving there -a vacancy; if descending, greatest above and lessening downward; if -ascending, greatest below and lessening upward; like a speaking-trumpet -standing its big end on the ground. - -When the air descends with a violence in some places, it may rise with -equal violence in others, and form both kinds of whirlwinds. - -The air, in its whirling motion, receding every way from the centre or -axis of the trumpet, leaves there a _vacuum_, which cannot be filled -through the sides, the whirling air, as an arch, preventing; it must -then press in at the open ends. - -The greatest pressure inward must be at the lower end, the greatest -weight of the surrounding atmosphere being there. The air, entering, -rises within, and carries up dust, leaves, and even heavier bodies that -happen in its way, as the eddy or whirl passes over land. - -If it passes over water, the weight of the surrounding atmosphere forces -up the water into the vacuity, part of which, by degrees, joins with the -whirling air, and, adding weight and receiving accelerated motion, -recedes farther from the centre or axis of the trump as the pressure -lessens; and at last, as the trump widens, is broken into small -particles, and so united with air as to be supported by it, and become -black clouds at the top of the trump. - -Thus these eddies may be whirlwinds at land, water-spouts at sea. A body -of water so raised may be suddenly let fall, when the motion, &c., has -not strength to support it, or the whirling arch is broken so as to -admit the air: falling in the sea, it is harmless unless ships happen -under it; and if in the progressive motion of the whirl it has moved -from the sea over the land, and then breaks, sudden, violent, and -mischievous torrents are the consequences. - - * * * * * - -_To Dr. Perkins._ - - _Water-spouts and Whirlwinds compared._--Read at the Royal Society, - June 24, 1753. - - Philadelphia, Feb. 4, 1753. - -I ought to have written to you long since, in answer to yours of October -16, concerning the water-spout; but business partly, and partly a desire -of procuring farther information by inquiry among my seafaring -acquaintance, induced me to postpone writing, from time to time, till I -am almost ashamed to resume the subject, not knowing but you may have -forgot what has been said upon it. - -Nothing certainly can be more improving to a searcher into nature than -objections judiciously made to his opinion, taken up, perhaps, too -hastily: for such objections oblige him to restudy the point, consider -every circumstance carefully, compare facts, make experiments, weigh -arguments, and be slow in drawing conclusions. And hence a sure -advantage results; for he either confirms a truth before too slightly -supported, or discovers an error, and receives instruction from the -objector. - -In this view I consider the objections and remarks you sent me, and -thank you for them sincerely; but, how much soever my inclinations lead -me to philosophical inquiries, I am so engaged in business, public and -private, that those more pleasing pursuits are frequently interrupted, -and the chain of thought necessary to be closely continued in such -disquisitions is so broken and disjointed, that it is with difficulty I -satisfy myself in any of them; and I am now not much nearer a conclusion -in this matter of the spout than when I first read your letter. - -Yet, hoping we may, in time, sift out the truth between us, I will send -you my present thoughts, with some observations on your reasons on the -accounts in the _Transactions_, and on other relations I have met with. -Perhaps, while I am writing, some new light may strike me, for I shall -now be obliged to consider the subject with a little more attention. - -I agree with you, that, by means of a vacuum in a whirlwind, water -cannot be supposed to rise in large masses to the region of the clouds; -for the pressure of the surrounding atmosphere could not force it up in -a continued body or column to a much greater height than thirty feet. -But if there really is a vacuum in the centre, or near the axis of -whirlwinds, then, I think, water may rise in such vacuum to that height, -or to a less height, as the vacuum may be less perfect. - -I had not read Stuart's account, in the _Transactions_, for many years -before the receipt of your letter, and had quite forgot it; but now, on -viewing his draughts and considering his descriptions, I think they seem -to favour _my hypothesis_; for he describes and draws columns of water -of various heights, terminating abruptly at the top, exactly as water -would do when forced up by the pressure of the atmosphere into an -exhausted tube. - -I must, however, no longer call it _my hypothesis_, since I find Stuart -had the same thought, though somewhat obscurely expressed, where he says -"he imagines this phenomenon may be solved by suction (improperly so -called) or rather pulsion, as in the application of a cupping-glass to -the flesh, the air being first voided by the kindled flax." - -In my paper, I supposed a whirlwind and a spout to be the same thing, -and to proceed from the same cause; the only difference between them -being that the one passes over the land, the other over water. I find -also in the _Transactions_, that M. de la Pryme was of the same opinion; -for he there describes two spouts, as he calls them, which were seen at -different times, at Hatfield, in Yorkshire, whose appearances in the air -were the same with those of the spouts at sea, and effects the same with -those of real whirlwinds. - -Whirlwinds have generally a progressive as well as a circular motion; so -had what is called the spout at Topsham, as described in the -Philosophical Transactions, which also appears, by its effects -described, to have been a real whirlwind. Water-spouts have, also, a -progressive motion; this is sometimes greater and sometimes less; in -some violent, in others barely perceivable. The whirlwind at Warrington -continued long in Acrement Close. - -Whirlwinds generally arise after calms and great heats: the same is -observed of water-spouts, which are, therefore, most frequent in the -warm latitudes. The spout that happened in cold weather, in the Downs, -described by Mr. Gordon in the _Transactions_, was, for that reason, -thought extraordinary; but he remarks withal, that the weather, though -cold when the spout appeared, was soon after much colder: as we find it -commonly less warm after a whirlwind. - -You agree that the wind blows every way towards a whirlwind from a large -space round. An intelligent whaleman of Nantucket informed me that three -of their vessels, which were out in search of whales, happening to be -becalmed, lay in sight of each other, at about a league distance, if I -remember right, nearly forming a triangle: after some time, a -water-spout appeared near the middle of the triangle, when a brisk -breeze of wind sprung up, and every vessel made sail; and then it -appeared to them all, by the setting of the sails and the course each -vessel stood, that the spout was to the leeward of every one of them; -and they all declared it to have been so when they happened afterward in -company, and came to confer about it. So that in this particular, -likewise, whirlwinds and water-spouts agree. - -But if that which appears a water-spout at sea does sometimes, in its -progressive motion, meet with and pass over land, and there produce all -the phenomena and effects of a whirlwind, it should thence seem still -more evident that a whirlwind and a spout are the same. I send you, -herewith, a letter from an ingenious physician of my acquaintance, which -gives one instance of this, that fell within his observation. - -A fluid, moving from all points horizontally towards a centre, must, at -that centre, either ascend or descend. Water being in a tub, if a hole -be opened in the middle of the bottom, will flow from all sides to the -centre, and there descend in a whirl. But air flowing on and near the -surface of land or water, from all sides towards a centre, must at that -centre ascend, the land or water hindering its descent. - -If these concentring currents of air be in the upper region, they may, -indeed, descend in the spout or whirlwind; but then, when the united -current reached the earth or water, it would spread, and, probably, blow -every way from the centre. There may be whirlwinds of both kinds, but -from the commonly observed effects I suspect the rising one to be the -most common: when the upper air descends, it is, perhaps, in a greater -body, extending wider, as in our thunder-gusts, and without much -whirling; and, when air descends in a spout or whirlwind, I should -rather expect it would press the roof of a house _inward_, or force _in_ -the tiles, shingles, or thatch, force a boat down into the water, or a -piece of timber into the earth, than that it would lift them up and -carry them away. - -It has so happened that I have not met with any accounts of spouts that -certainly descended; I suspect they are not frequent. Please to -communicate those you mention. The apparent dropping of a pipe from the -clouds towards the earth or sea, I will endeavour to explain hereafter. - -The augmentation of the cloud, which, as I am informed, is generally, -if not always the case, during a spout, seems to show an ascent rather -than a descent of the matter of which such cloud is composed; for a -descending spout, one would expect, should diminish a cloud. I own, -however, that cold air, descending, may, by condensing the vapours in a -lower region, form and increase clouds; which, I think, is generally the -case in our common thunder-gusts, and, therefore, do not lay great -stress on this argument. - -Whirlwinds and spouts are not always, though most commonly, in the -daytime. The terrible whirlwind which damaged a great part of Rome, June -11, 1749, happened in the night of that day. The same was supposed to -have been first a spout, for it is said to be beyond doubt that it -gathered in the neighbouring sea, as it could be tracked from Ostia to -Rome. I find this in Pčre Boschovich's account of it, as abridged in the -Monthly Review for December, 1750. - -In that account, the whirlwind is said to have appeared as a very black, -long, and lofty cloud, discoverable, notwithstanding the darkness of the -night, by its continually lightning or emitting flashes on all sides, -pushing along with a surprising swiftness, and within three or four feet -of the ground. Its general effects on houses were stripping off the -roofs, blowing away chimneys, breaking doors and windows, _forcing up -the floors, and unpaving the rooms_ (some of these effects seem to agree -well with a supposed vacuum in the centre of the whirlwind), and the -very rafters of the houses were broken and dispersed, and even hurled -against houses at a considerable distance, &c. - -It seems, by an expression of Pčre Boschovich's, as if the wind blew -from all sides towards the whirlwind; for, having carefully observed its -effects, he concludes of all whirlwinds, "that their motion is circular, -and their action attractive." - -He observes on a number of histories of whirlwinds, &c., "that a common -effect of them is to carry up into the air tiles, stones, and animals -themselves, which happen to be in their course, and all kinds of bodies -unexceptionably, throwing them to a considerable distance with great -impetuosity." - -Such effects seem to show a rising current of air. - -I will endeavour to explain my conceptions of this matter by figures, -representing a plan and an elevation of a spout or whirlwind. - -I would only first beg to be allowed two or three positions mentioned in -my former paper. - -1. That the lower region of air is often more heated, and so more -rarefied, than the upper; consequently, specifically lighter. The -coldness of the upper region is manifested by the hail which sometimes -falls from it in a hot day. - -2. That heated air may be very moist, and yet the moisture so equally -diffused and rarefied as not to be visible till colder air mixes with -it, when it condenses and becomes visible. Thus our breath, invisible in -summer, becomes visible in winter. - -Now let us suppose a tract of land or sea, of perhaps sixty miles -square, unscreened by clouds and unfanned by winds during great part of -a summer's day, or, it may be, for several days successively, till it is -violently heated, together with the lower region of air in contact with -it, so that the said lower air becomes specifically lighter than the -superincumbent higher region of the atmosphere in which the clouds -commonly float: let us suppose, also, that the air surrounding this -tract has not been so much heated during those days, and, therefore, -remains heavier. The consequence of this should be, as I conceive, that -the heated lighter air, being pressed on all sides, must ascend, and the -heavier descend; and as this rising cannot be in all parts, or the whole -area of the tract at once, for that would leave too extensive a vacuum, -the rising will begin precisely in that column that happens to be the -lightest or most rarefied; and the warm air will flow horizontally from -all points to this column, where the several currents meeting, and -joining to rise, a whirl is naturally formed, in the same manner as a -whirl is formed in the tub of water, by the descending fluid flowing -from all sides of the tub to the hole in the centre. - -And as the several currents arrive at this central rising column with a -considerable degree of horizontal motion, they cannot suddenly change it -to a vertical motion; therefore, as they gradually, in approaching the -whirl, decline from right curved or circular lines, so, having joined -the whirl, they _ascend_ by a spiral motion, in the same manner as the -water _descends_ spirally through the hole in the tub before mentioned. - -Lastly, as the lower air, and nearest the surface, is most rarefied by -the heat of the sun, that air is most acted on by the pressure of the -surrounding cold and heavy air, which is to take its place; -consequently, its motion towards the whirl is swiftest, and so the force -of the lower part of the whirl or trump strongest, and the centrifugal -force of its particles greatest; and hence the vacuum round the axis of -the whirl should be greatest near the earth or sea, and be gradually -diminished as it approaches the region of the clouds, till it ends in a -point, as at P, _Fig. 2. in the plate_, forming a long and sharp cone. - -In figure 1, which is a plan or groundplat of a whirlwind, the circle V -represents the central vacuum. - -Between _a a a a_ and _b b b b_ I suppose a body of air, condensed -strongly by the pressure of the currents moving towards it from all -sides without, and by its centrifugal force from within, moving round -with prodigious swiftness (having, as it were, the entire momenta -of all the currents ----> ----> united in itself), and with -a power equal to its swiftness and density. - -It is this whirling body of air between _a a a a_ and _b b b b_ that -rises spirally; by its force it tears buildings to pieces, twists up -great trees by the roots, &c., and, by its spiral motion, raises the -fragments so high, till the pressure of the surrounding and approaching -currents diminishing, can no longer confine them to the circle, or their -own centrifugal force increasing, grows too strong for such pressure, -when they fly off in tangent lines, as stones out of a sling, and fall -on all sides and at great distances. - -If it happens at sea, the water under and between _a a a a_ and _b b b -b_ will be violently agitated and driven about, and parts of it raised -with the spiral current, and thrown about so as to form a bushlike -appearance. - -This circle is of various diameters, sometimes very large. If the vacuum -passes over water, the water may rise in it in a body or column to near -the height of thirty-two feet. If it passes over houses, it may burst -their windows or walls outward, pluck off the roofs, and pluck up the -floors, by the sudden rarefaction of the air contained within such -buildings; the outward pressure of the atmosphere being suddenly taken -off; so the stopped bottle of air bursts under the exhausted receiver of -the airpump. - -Fig. 2 is to represent the elevation of a water-spout, wherein I suppose -P P P to be the cone, at first a vacuum, till W W, the rising column of -water, has filled so much of it. S S S S, the spiral whirl of air, -surrounding the vacuum, and continued higher in a close column after the -vacuum ends in the point P, till it reaches the cool region of the air. -B B, the bush described by Stuart, surrounding the foot of the column of -water. - -Now I suppose this whirl of air will at first be as invisible as the -air itself, though reaching, in reality, from the water to the region of -cool air, in which our low summer thunder-clouds commonly float: but -presently it will become visible at its extremities. _At its lower end_, -by the agitation of the water under the whirling part of the circle, -between P and S, forming Stuart's bush, and by the swelling and rising -of the water in the beginning vacuum, which is at first a small, low, -broad cone, whose top gradually rises and sharpens, as the force of the -whirl increases. _At its upper end_ it becomes visible by the warm air -brought up to the cooler region, where its moisture begins to be -condensed into thick vapour by the cold, and is seen first at A, the -highest part, which, being now cooled, condenses what rises next at B, -which condenses that at C, and that condenses what is rising at D, the -cold operating by the contact of the vapours faster in a right line -downward than the vapours can climb in a spiral line upward; they climb, -however, and as by continual addition they grow denser, and, -consequently, their centrifugal force greater, and being risen above the -concentrating currents that compose the whirl, fly off, spread, and form -a cloud. - -It seems easy to conceive how, by this successive condensation from -above, the spout appears to drop or descend from the cloud, though the -materials of which it is composed are all the while ascending. - -The condensation of the moisture contained in so great a quantity of -warm air as may be supposed to rise in a short time in this prodigiously -rapid whirl, is perhaps sufficient to form a great extent of cloud, -though the spout should be over land, as those at Hatfield; and if the -land happens not to be very dusty, perhaps the lower part of the spout -will scarce become visible at all; though the upper, or what is commonly -called the descending part, be very distinctly seen. - -The same may happen at sea, in case the whirl is not violent enough to -make a high vacuum, and raise the column, &c. In such case, the upper -part A B C D only will be visible, and the bush, perhaps, below. - -But if the whirl be strong, and there be much dust on the land, and the -column W W be raised from the water, then the lower part becomes visible -and sometimes even united to the upper part. For the dust may be carried -up in the spiral whirl till it reach the region where the vapour is -condensed, and rise with that even to the clouds: and the friction of -the whirling air on the sides of the column W W, may detach great -quantities of its water, break it into drops, and carry them up in the -spiral whirl, mixed with the air; the heavier drops may indeed fly off, -and fall in a shower round the spout; but much of it will be broken into -vapour, yet visible; and thus, in both cases, by dust at land and by -water at sea, the whole tube may be darkened and rendered visible. - -As the whirl weakens, the tube may (in appearance) separate in the -middle; the column of water subsiding, and the superior condensed part -drawing up to the cloud. Yet still the tube or whirl of air may remain -entire, the middle only becoming invisible, as not containing visible -matter. - -Dr. Stuart says, "It was observable of all the spouts he saw, but more -perceptible of the great one, that, towards the end, it began to appear -like a hollow canal, only black in the borders, but white in the middle; -and though at first it was altogether black and opaque, yet now one -could very distinctly perceive the seawater to fly up along the middle -of this canal, as smoke up a chimney." - -And Dr. Mather, describing a whirlwind, says, "A thick dark, small cloud -arose, with a pillar of light in it, of about eight or ten feet -diameter, and passed along the ground in a tract not wider than a -street, horribly tearing up trees by the roots, blowing them up in the -air life feathers, and throwing up stones of great weight to a -considerable height in the air," &c. - -These accounts, the one of water-spouts, the other of a whirlwind, seem -in this particular to agree; what one gentleman describes as a tube, -black in the borders and white in the middle, the other calls a black -cloud, with a pillar of light in it; the latter expression has only a -little more of the _marvellous_, but the thing is the same; and it seems -not very difficult to understand. When Dr. Stuart's spouts were full -charged, that is, when the whirling pipe of air was filled between _a a -a a_ and _b b b b_, fig. 1, with quantities of drops, and vapour torn -off from the column W W, fig. 2, the whole was rendered so dark as that -it could not be seen through, nor the spiral ascending motion -discovered; but when the quantity ascending lessened, the pipe became -more transparent, and the ascending motion visible. For, by inspection -of the figure given in the opposite page, respecting a section of our -spout, with the vacuum in the middle, it is plain that if we look at -such a hollow pipe in the direction of the arrows, and suppose opaque -particles to be equally mixed in the space between the two circular -lines, both the part between the arrows _a_ and _b_, and that between -the arrows _c_ and _d_, will appear much darker than that between _b_ -and _c_, as there must be many more of those opaque particles in the -line of vision across the sides than across the middle. It is thus that -a hair in a microscope evidently appears to be a pipe, the sides showing -darker than the middle. Dr. Mather's whirl was probably filled with -dust, the sides were very dark, but the vacuum within rendering the -middle more transparent, he calls it a pillar of light. - -[Illustration: - - Fig. 1 - Fig. 2 - Fig. 3] - -It was in this more transparent part, between _b_ and _c_, that Stuart -could see the spiral motion of the vapours, whose lines on the nearest -and farthest side of the transparent part crossing each other, -represented smoke ascending in a chimney; for the quantity being still -too great in the line of sight through the sides of the tube, the motion -could not be discovered there, and so they represented the solid sides -of the chimney. - -When the vapours reach in the pipe from the clouds near to the earth, it -is no wonder now to those who understand electricity, that flashes of -lightning should descend by the spout, as in that of Rome. - -But you object, if water may be thus carried into the clouds, why have -we not salt rains? The objection is strong and reasonable, and I know -not whether I can answer it to your satisfaction. I never heard but of -one salt rain, and that was where a spout passed pretty near a ship; so -I suppose it to be only the drops thrown off from the spout by the -centrifugal force (as the birds were at Hatfield), when they had been -carried so high as to be above, or to be too strongly centrifugal for -the pressure of the concurring winds surrounding it: and, indeed, I -believe there can be no other kind of salt rain; for it has pleased the -goodness of God so to order it, that the particles of air will not -attract the particles of salt, though they strongly attract water. - -Hence, though all metals, even gold, may be united with air and rendered -volatile, salt remains fixed in the fire, and no heat can force it up to -any considerable height, or oblige the air to hold it. Hence, when salt -rises, as it will a little way, into air with water, there is instantly -a separation made; the particles of water adhere to the air, and the -particles of salt fall down again, as if repelled and forced off from -the water by some power in the air; or, as some metals, dissolved in a -proper _menstruum_, will quit the solvent when other matter approaches, -and adhere to that, so the water quits the salt and embraces the air; -but air will not embrace the salt and quit the water, otherwise our -rains would indeed be salt, and every tree and plant on the face of the -earth be destroyed, with all the animals that depend on them for -subsistence. He who hath proportioned and given proper quantities to all -things, was not unmindful of this. Let us adore Him with praise and -thanksgiving. - -By some accounts of seamen, it seems the column of water W W sometimes -falls suddenly; and if it be, as some say, fifteen or twenty yards -diameter, it must fall with great force, and they may well fear for -their ships. By one account, in the _Transactions_, of a spout that fell -at Colne, in Lancashire, one would think the column is sometimes lifted -off from the water and carried over land, and there let fall in a body; -but this, I suppose, happens rarely. - -Stuart describes his spouts as appearing no bigger than a mast, and -sometimes less; but they were seen at a league and a half distance. - -I think I formerly read in Dampier, or some other voyager, that a spout, -in its progressive motion, went over a ship becalmed on the coast of -Guinea, and first threw her down on one side, carrying away her -foremast, then suddenly whipped her up, and threw her down on the other -side, carrying away her mizen-mast, and the whole was over in an -instant. I suppose the first mischief was done by the foreside of the -whirl, the latter by the hinderside, their motion being contrary. - -I suppose a whirlwind or spout may be stationary when the concurring -winds are equal; but if unequal, the whirl acquires a progressive motion -in the direction of the strongest pressure. - -When the wind that gives the progressive motion becomes stronger below -than above, or above than below, the spout will be bent, and, the cause -ceasing, straighten again. - -Your queries towards the end of your paper appear judicious and worth -considering. At present I am not furnished with facts sufficient to -make any pertinent answer to them, and this paper has already a -sufficient quantity of conjecture. - -Your manner of accommodating the accounts to your hypothesis of -descending spouts is, I own, in ingenious, and perhaps that hypothesis -may be true. I will consider it farther, but, as yet, I am not satisfied -with it, though hereafter I may be. - -Here you have my method of accounting for the principal phenomena, which -I submit to your candid examination. - -And as I now seem to have almost written a book instead of a letter, you -will think it high time I should conclude; which I beg leave to do, with -assuring you that I am, &c., - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_Alexander Small, London._ - -ON THE NORTHEAST STORMS IN NORTH AMERICA. - - May 12, 1760. - -Agreeable to your request, I send you my reasons for thinking that our -northeast storms in North America begin first, in point of time, in the -southwest parts; that is to say, the air in Georgia, the farthest of our -colonies to the southwest, begins to move southwesterly before the air -of Carolina, which is the next colony northeastward; the air of Carolina -has the same motion before the air of Virginia, which lies still more -northeastward; and so on northeasterly through Pennsylvania, New-York, -New-England, &c., quite to Newfoundland. - -These northeast storms are generally very violent, continue sometimes -two or three days, and often do considerable damage in the harbours -along the coast. They are attended with thick clouds and rain. - -What first gave me this idea was the following circumstance. About -twenty years ago, a few more or less, I cannot from my memory be -certain, we were to have an eclipse of the moon at Philadelphia, on a -Friday evening, about nine o'clock. I intended to observe it, but was -prevented by a northeast storm, which came on about seven, with thick -clouds as usual, that quite obscured the whole hemisphere. Yet when the -post brought us the Boston newspaper, giving an account of the effects -of the same storm in those parts, I found the beginning of the eclipse -had been well observed there, though Boston lies N. E. of Philadelphia -about four hundred miles. This puzzled me, because the storm began with -us so soon as to prevent any observation; and being a northeast storm, I -imagined it must have begun rather sooner in places farther to the -northeastward than it did at Philadelphia. I therefore mentioned it in a -letter to my brother, who lived at Boston; and he informed me the storm -did not begin with them till near eleven o'clock, so that they had a -good observation of the eclipse; and upon comparing all the other -accounts I received from the several colonies of the time of beginning -of the same storm, and, since that, of other storms of the same kind, I -found the beginning to be always later the farther northeastward. I have -not my notes with me here in England, and cannot, from memory, say the -proportion of time to distance, but I think it is about an hour to every -hundred miles. - -From thence I formed an idea of the cause of these storms, which I would -explain by a familiar instance or two. Suppose a long canal of water -stopped at the end by a gate. The water is quite at rest till the gate -is open, then it begins to move out through the gate; the water next the -gate is first in motion, and moves towards the gate; the water next to -that first water moves next, and so on successively, till the water at -the head of the canal is in motion, which is last of all. In this case -all the water moves, indeed, towards the gate, but the successive times -of beginning motion are the contrary way, viz., from the gate backward -to the head of the canal. Again, suppose the air in a chamber at rest, -no current through the room till you make a fire in the chimney. -Immediately the air in the chimney, being rarefied by the fire, rises; -the air next the chimney flows in to supply its place, moving towards -the chimney; and, in consequence, the rest of the air successively, -quite back to the door. Thus, to produce our northeast storms, I suppose -some great heat and rarefaction of the air in or about the Gulf of -Mexico; the air, thence rising, has its place supplied by the next more -northern, cooler, and, therefore, denser and heavier air; that, being in -motion, is followed by the next more northern air, &c., in a successive -current, to which current our coast and inland ridge of mountains give -the direction of northeast, as they lie N. E. and S. W. - -This I offer only as an hypothesis to account for this particular fact; -and perhaps, on farther examination, a better and truer may be found. I -do not suppose all storms generated in the same manner. Our northwest -thunder-gusts in America, I know, are not; but of them I have written my -opinion fully in a paper which you have seen. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To Dr. Lining, at Charleston._ - -ON COLD PRODUCED BY EVAPORATION. - - New-York, April 14, 1757. - -It is a long time since I had the pleasure of a line from you; and, -indeed, the troubles of our country, with the hurry of business I have -been engaged in on that account, have made me so bad a correspondent, -that I ought not to expect punctuality in others. - -But, being about to embark for England, I could not quit the continent -without paying my respects to you, and, at the same time, taking leave -to introduce to your acquaintance a gentleman of learning and merit, -Colonel Henry Bouquet, who does me the favour to present you this -letter, and with whom I am sure you will be much pleased. - -Professor Simpson, of Glasgow, lately communicated to me some curious -experiments of a physician of his acquaintance, by which it appeared -that an extraordinary degree of cold, even to freezing, might be -produced by evaporation. I have not had leisure to repeat and examine -more than the first and easiest of them, viz.: wet the ball of a -thermometer by a feather dipped in spirits of wine which has been kept -in the same room, and has, of course, the same degree of heat or cold. -The mercury sinks presently three or four degrees, and the quicker if, -during the evaporation, you blow on the ball with bellows; a second -wetting and blowing, when the mercury is down, carries it yet lower. I -think I did not get it lower than five or six degrees from where it -naturally stood, which was at that time sixty. But it is said that a -vessel of water, being placed in another somewhat larger, containing -spirit, in such a manner that the vessel of water is surrounded with the -spirit, and both placed under the receiver of an airpump; on exhausting -the air, the spirit, evaporating, leaves such a degree of cold as to -freeze the water, though the thermometer in the open air stands many -degrees above the freezing point. - -I know not how this phenomena is to be accounted for, but it gives me -occasion to mention some loose notions relating to heat and cold, which -I have for some time entertained, but not yet reduced into any form. -Allowing common fire, as well as electrical, to be a fluid capable of -permeating other bodies and seeking an equilibrium, I imagine some -bodies are better fitted by nature to be conductors of that fluid than -others; and that, generally, those which are the best conductors of the -electric fluid are also the best conductors of this; and _č contra_. - -Thus a body which is a good conductor of fire readily receives it into -its substance, and conducts it through the whole to all the parts, as -metals and water do; and if two bodies, both good conductors, one -heated, the other in its common state, are brought into contact with -each other, the body which has most fire readily communicates of it to -that which had least, and that which had least readily receives it, till -an equilibrium is produced. Thus, if you take a dollar between your -fingers with one hand, and a piece of wood of the same dimensions with -the other, and bring both at the same time to the flame of a candle, you -will find yourself obliged to drop the dollar before you drop the wood, -because it conducts the heat of the candle sooner to your flesh. Thus, -if a silver teapot had a handle of the same metal, it would conduct the -heat from the water to the hand, and become too hot to be used; we -therefore give to a metal teapot a handle of wood, which is not so good -a conductor as metal. But a China or stone teapot, being in some degree -of the nature of glass, which is not a good conductor of heat, may have -a handle of the same stuff. Thus, also, a damp, moist air shall make a -man more sensible of cold, or chill him more than a dry air that is -colder, because a moist air is fitter to receive and conduct away the -heat of his body. This fluid, entering bodies in great quantity, first -expands them, by separating their parts a little; afterward, by farther -separating their parts, it renders solids fluid, and at length -dissipates their parts in air. Take this fluid from melted lead or from -water, the parts cohere again; the first grows solid, the latter becomes -ice: and this is sooner done by the means of good conductors. Thus, if -you take, as I have done, a square bar of lead, four inches long and -one inch thick, together with three pieces of wood planed to the same -dimensions, and lay them on a smooth board, fixed so as not to be easily -separated or moved, and pour into the cavity they form as much melted -lead as will fill it, you will see the melted lead chill and become firm -on the side next the leaden bar some time before it chills on the other -three sides in contact with the wooden bars, though, before the lead was -poured in, they might all be supposed to have the same degree of heat or -coldness, as they had been exposed in the same room to the same air. You -will likewise observe, that the leaden bar, as it has cooled the melted -lead more than the wooden bars have done, so it is itself more heated by -the melted lead. There is a certain quantity of this fluid, called fire, -in every living human body; which fluid being in due proportion, keeps -the parts of the flesh and blood at such a just distance from each -other, as that the flesh and nerves are supple, and the blood fit for -circulation. If part of this due proportion of fire be conducted away, -by means of a contact with other bodies, as air, water, or metals, the -parts of our skin and flesh that come into such contact first draw more -near together than is agreeable, and give that sensation which we call -cold; and if too much be conveyed away, the body stiffens, the blood -ceases to flow, and death ensues. On the other hand, if too much of this -fluid be communicated to the flesh, the parts are separated too far, and -pain ensues, as when they are separated by a pin or lancet. The -sensation that the separation by fire occasions we call heat or burning. -My desk on which I now write, and the lock of my desk, are both exposed -to the same temperature of the air, and have, therefore, the same degree -of heat or cold: yet if I lay my hand successively on the wood and on -the metal, the latter feels much the coldest; not that it is really so, -but, being a better conductor, it more readily than the wood takes away -and draws into itself the fire that was in my skin. Accordingly, if I -lay one hand part on the lock and part on the wood, and after it had -laid on some time, I feel both parts with my other hand, I find the part -that has been in contact with the lock very sensibly colder to the touch -than the part that lay on the wood. How a living animal obtains its -quantity of this fluid, called fire, is a curious question. I have shown -that some bodies (as metals) have a power of attracting it stronger than -others; and I have sometimes suspected that a living body had some power -of attracting out of the air, or other bodies, the heat it wanted. Thus -metals hammered, or repeatedly bent, grow hot in the bent or hammered -part. But when I consider that air, in contact with the body, cools it; -that the surrounding air is rather heated by its contact with the body; -that every breath of cooler air drawn in carries off part of the body's -heat when it passes out again; that, therefore, there must be in the -body a fund for producing it, or otherwise the animal would soon grow -cold; I have been rather inclined to think that the fluid _fire_, as -well as the fluid _air_, is attracted by plants in their growth, and -becomes consolidated with the other materials of which they are formed, -and makes a great part of their substance; that, when they come to be -digested, and to suffer in the vessels a kind of fermentation, part of -the fire, as well as part of the air, recovers its fluid, active state -again, and diffuses itself in the body, digesting and separating it; -that the fire, so reproduced by digestion and separation, continually -leaving the body, its place is supplied by fresh quantities, arising -from the continual separation; that whatever quickens the motion of the -fluids in an animal quickens the separation, and reproduces more of the -fire, as exercise; that all the fire emitted by wood and other -combustibles, when burning, existed in them before in a solid state, -being only discovered when separating; that some fossils, as sulphur, -seacoal, &c., contain a great deal of solid fire; and that, in short, -what escapes and is dissipated in the burning of bodies, besides water -and earth, is generally the air and fire that before made parts of the -solid. Thus I imagine that animal heat arises by or from a kind of -fermentation in the juices of the body, in the same manner as heat -arises in the liquors preparing for distillation, wherein there is a -separation of the spirituous from the watery and earthy parts. And it is -remarkable, that the liquor in a distiller's vat, when in its best and -highest state of fermentation, as I have been informed, has the same -degree of heat with the human body: that is, about 94 or 96. - -Thus, as by a constant supply of fuel in a chimney you keep a warm room, -so by a constant supply of food in the stomach you keep a warm body; -only where little exercise is used the heat may possibly be conducted -away too fast; in which case such materials are to be used for clothing -and bedding, against the effects of an immediate contact of the air, as -are in themselves bad conductors of heat, and, consequently, prevent its -being communicated through their substance to the air. Hence what is -called _warmth_ in wool, and its preference on that account to linen, -wool not being so good a conductor; and hence all the natural coverings -of animals to keep them warm are such as retain and confine the natural -heat in the body by being bad conductors, such as wool, hair, feathers, -and the silk by which the silkworm, in its tender embryo state, is first -clothed. Clothing, thus considered, does not make a man warm by _giving_ -warmth, but by _preventing_ the too quick dissipation of the heat -produced in his body, and so occasioning an accumulation. - -There is another curious question I will just venture to touch upon, -viz., Whence arises the sudden extraordinary degree of cold, -perceptible on mixing some chymical liquors, and even on mixing salt and -snow, where the composition appears colder than the coldest of the -ingredients? I have never seen the chymical mixtures made, but salt and -snow I have often mixed myself, and am fully satisfied that the -composition feels much colder to the touch, and lowers the mercury in -the thermometer more than either ingredient would do separately. I -suppose, with others, that cold is nothing more than the absence of heat -or fire. Now if the quantity of fire before contained or diffused in the -snow and salt was expelled in the uniting of the two matters, it must be -driven away either through the air or the vessel containing them. If it -is driven off through the air, it must warm the air, and a thermometer -held over the mixture, without touching it, would discover the heat by -the raising of the mercury, as it must and always does in warm air. - -This, indeed, I have not tried, but I should guess it would rather be -driven off through the vessel, especially if the vessel be metal, as -being a better conductor than air; and so one should find the basin -warmer after such mixture. But, on the contrary, the vessel grows cold, -and even water, in which the vessel is sometimes placed for the -experiment, freezes into hard ice on the basin. Now I know not how to -account for this, otherwise than by supposing that the composition is a -better conductor of fire than the ingredients separately, and, like the -lock compared with the wood, has a stronger power of attracting fire, -and does accordingly attract it suddenly from the fingers, or a -thermometer put into it, from the basin that contains it, and from the -water in contact with the outside of the basin; so that the fingers have -the sensation of extreme cold by being deprived of much of their natural -fire; the thermometer sinks by having part of its fire drawn out of the -mercury; the basin grows colder to the touch, as, by having its fire -drawn into the mixture, it is become more capable of drawing and -receiving it from the hand; and, through the basin, the water loses its -fire that kept it fluid; so it becomes ice. One would expect that, from -all this attracted acquisition of fire to the composition, it should -become warmer; and, in fact, the snow and salt dissolve at the same time -into water, without freezing. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_Peter Franklin, Newport, Rhode Island._ - -ON THE SALTNESS OF SEAWATER. - - London, May 7, 1760. - -* * It has, indeed, as you observe, been the opinion of some very great -naturalists, that the sea is salt only from the dissolution of mineral -or rock-salt which its waters happen to meet with. But this opinion -takes it for granted that all water was originally fresh, of which we -can have no proof. I own I am inclined to a different opinion, and -rather think all the water on this globe was originally salt, and that -the fresh water we find in springs and rivers is the produce of -distillation. The sun raises the vapours from the sea, which form -clouds, and fall in rain upon the land, and springs and rivers are -formed of that rain. As to the rock-salt found in mines, I conceive -that, instead of communicating its saltness to the sea, it is itself -drawn from the sea, and that, of course, the sea is now fresher than it -was originally. This is only another effect of nature's distillery, and -might be performed various ways. - -It is evident, from the quantities of seashells, and the bones and teeth -of fishes found in high lands, that the sea has formerly covered them. -Then either the sea has been higher than it now is, and has fallen away -from those high lands, or they have been lower than they are, and were -lifted up out of the water to their present height by some internal -mighty force, such as we still feel some remains of when whole -continents are moved by earthquakes In either case it may be supposed -that large hollows, or valleys among hills, might be left filled with -seawater, which, evaporating, and the fluid part drying away in a course -of years, would leave the salt covering the bottom; and that salt, -coming afterward to be covered with earth from the neighbouring hills, -could only be found by digging through that earth. Or, as we know from -their effects that there are deep, fiery caverns under the earth, and -even under the sea, if at any time the sea leaks into any of them, the -fluid parts of the water must evaporate from that heat, and pass off -through some volcano, while the salt remains, and, by degrees and -continual accretion, becomes a great mass. Thus the cavern may at length -be filled, and the volcano connected with it cease burning, as many, it -is said, have done; and future miners, penetrating such cavern, find -what we call a salt-mine. This is a fancy I had on visiting the -salt-mines at Northwich with my son. I send you a piece of the rock-salt -which he brought up with him out of the mine. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To Miss Stephenson._ - -SALT WATER RENDERED FRESH BY DISTILLATION.--METHOD OF RELIEVING THIRST -BY SEAWATER. - - Craven-street, August 10, 1761. - -We are to set out this week for Holland, where we may possibly spend a -month, but purpose to be at home again before the coronation. I could -not go without taking leave of you by a line at least when I am so many -letters in your debt. - -In yours of May 19, which I have before me, you speak of the ease with -which salt water may be made fresh by distillation, supposing it to be, -as I had said, that in evaporation the air would take up water, but not -the salt that was mixed with it. It is true that distilled seawater will -not be salt, but there are other disagreeable qualities that rise with -the water, in distillation; which, indeed, several besides Dr. Hales -have endeavoured by some means to prevent, but as yet their methods have -not been brought much into use. - -I have a singular opinion on this subject, which I will venture to -communicate to you, though I doubt you will rank it among my whims. It -is certain that the skin has _imbibing_ as well as _discharging_ pores; -witness the effects of a blistering-plaster, &c. I have read that a man, -hired by a physician to stand, by way of experiment, in the open air -naked during a moist night, weighed near three pounds heavier in the -morning. I have often observed myself, that however thirsty I may have -been before going into the water to swim, I am never long so in the -water. These imbibing pores, however, are very fine; perhaps fine -enough, in filtering, to separate salt from water; for though I have -soaked (by swimming, when a boy) several hours in the day, for several -days successively, in salt water, I never found my blood and juices -salted by that means, so as to make me thirsty or feel a salt taste in -my mouth; and it is remarkable that the flesh of seafish, though bred in -salt water, is not salt. Hence I imagined that if people at sea, -distressed by thirst, when their fresh water is unfortunately spent, -would make bathing-tubs of their empty water-casks, and, filling them -with seawater, sit in them an hour or two each day, they might be -greatly relieved. Perhaps keeping their clothes constantly wet might -have an almost equal effect; and this without danger of catching cold. -Men do not catch cold by wet clothes at sea. Damp, but not wet linen, -may possibly give colds; but no one catches cold by bathing, and no -clothes can be wetter than water itself. Why damp clothes should then -occasion colds, is a curious question, the discussion of which I reserve -for a future letter or some future conversation. - -Adieu, my little philosopher. Present my respectful compliments to the -good ladies your aunts, and to Miss Pitt, and believe me ever - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To the same._ - -TENDENCY OF RIVERS TO THE SEA.--EFFECTS OF THE SUN'S RAYS ON CLOTHES OF -DIFFERENT COLOURS. - - September 20, 1761. - -MY DEAR FRIEND, - -It is, as you observed in our late conversation, a very general opinion, -that _all rivers run into the sea_, or deposite their waters there. 'Tis -a kind of audacity to call such general opinions in question, and may -subject one to censure. But we must hazard something in what we think -the cause of truth: and if we propose our objections modestly, we shall, -though mistaken, deserve a censure less severe than when we are both -mistaken and insolent. - -That some rivers run into the sea is beyond a doubt: such, for instance, -are the Amazons, and, I think, the Oronoko and the Mississippi. The -proof is, that their waters are fresh quite to the sea, and out to some -distance from the land. Our question is, whether the fresh waters of -those rivers, whose beds are filled with salt water to a considerable -distance up from the sea (as the Thames, the Delaware, and the rivers -that communicate with Chesapeake Bay in Virginia), do ever arrive at the -sea? And as I suspect they do not, I am now to acquaint you with my -reasons; or, if they are not allowed to be reasons, my conceptions at -least of this matter. - -The common supply of rivers is from springs, which draw their origin -from rain that has soaked into the earth. The union of a number of -springs forms a river. The waters, as they run exposed to the sun, air, -and wind, are continually evaporating. Hence, in travelling, one may -often see where a river runs, by a long bluish mist over it, though we -are at such a distance as not to see the river itself. The quantity of -this evaporation is greater or less, in proportion to the surface -exposed by the same quantity of water to those causes of evaporation. -While the river runs in a narrow, confined channel in the upper hilly -country, only a small surface is exposed; a greater as the river widens. -Now if a river ends in a lake, as some do, whereby its waters are spread -so wide as that the evaporation is equal to the sum of all its springs, -that lake will never overflow; and if, instead of ending in a lake, it -was drawn into greater length as a river, so as to expose a surface -equal in the whole to that lake, the evaporation would be equal, and -such river would end as a canal; when the ignorant might suppose, as -they actually do in such cases, that the river loses itself by running -under ground, whereas, in truth, it has run up into the air. - -Now, how many rivers that are open to the sea widen much before they -arrive at it, not merely by the additional waters they receive, but by -having their course stopped by the opposing flood-tide; by being turned -back twice in twenty-four hours, and by finding broader beds in the low -flat countries to dilate themselves in; hence the evaporation of the -fresh water is proportionably increased, so that in some rivers it may -equal the springs of supply. In such cases the salt water comes up the -river, and meets the fresh in that part where, if there were a wall or -bank of earth across, from side to side, the river would form a lake, -fuller indeed at sometimes than at others, according to the seasons, but -whose evaporation would, one time with another, be equal to its supply. - -When the communication between the two kinds of water is open, this -supposed wall of separation may be conceived as a moveable one, which is -not only pushed some miles higher up the river by every flood-tide from -the sea, and carried down again as far by every tide of ebb, but which -has even this space of vibration removed nearer to the sea in wet -seasons, when the springs and brooks in the upper country are augmented -by the falling rains, so as to swell the river, and farther from the sea -in dry seasons. - -Within a few miles above and below this moveable line of separation, the -different waters mix a little, partly by their motion to and fro, and -partly from the greater gravity of the salt water, which inclines it to -run under the fresh, while the fresh water, being lighter, runs over the -salt. - -Cast your eye on the map of North America, and observe the Bay of -Chesapeake, in Virginia, mentioned above; you will see, communicating -with it by their mouths, the great rivers Susquehanna, Potomac, -Rappahannoc, York, and James, besides a number of smaller streams, each -as big as the Thames. It has been proposed by philosophical writers, -that to compute how much water any river discharges into the sea in a -given time, we should measure its depth and swiftness at any part above -the tide: as for the Thames, at Kingston or Windsor. But can one -imagine, that if all the water of those vast rivers went to the sea, it -would not first have pushed the salt water out of that narrow-mouthed -bay, and filled it with fresh? The Susquehanna alone would seem to be -sufficient for this, if it were not for the loss by evaporation. And -yet that bay is salt quite up to Annapolis. - -As to our other subject, the different degrees of heat imbibed from the -sun's rays by cloths of different colours, since I cannot find the notes -of my experiment to send you, I must give it as well as I can from -memory. - -But first let me mention an experiment you may easily make yourself. -Walk but a quarter of an hour in your garden when the sun shines, with a -part of your dress white and a part black; then apply your hand to them -alternately, and you will find a very great difference in their warmth. -The black will be quite hot to the touch, the white still cool. - -Another. Try to fire the paper with a burning glass. If it is white, you -will not easily burn it; but if you bring the focus to a black spot, or -upon letters written or printed, the paper will immediately be on fire -under the letters. - -Thus fullers and dyers find black cloths, of equal thickness with white -ones, and hung out equally wet, dry in the sun much sooner than the -white, being more readily heated by the sun's rays. It is the same -before a fire, the heat of which sooner penetrates black stockings than -white ones, and so is apt sooner to burn a man's shins. Also beer much -sooner warms in a black mug set before the fire than in a white one, or -a bright silver tankard. - -My experiment was this. I took a number of little pieces of broadcloth -from a tailor's pattern card, of various colours. There were black, deep -blue, lighter blue, green, purple, red, yellow, white, and other colours -or shades of colours. I laid them all out upon the snow in a bright -sunshiny morning. In a few hours (I cannot now be exact as to the time) -the black, being warmed most by the sun, was sunk so low as to be below -the stroke of the sun's rays; the dark blue almost as low, the lighter -blue not quite so much as the dark, the other colours less as they were -lighter, and the quite white remained on the surface of the snow, not -having entered it at all. - -What signifies philosophy that does not apply to some use? May we not -learn from hence that black clothes are not so fit to wear in a hot -sunny climate or season as white ones; because in such clothes the body -is more heated by the sun when we walk abroad, and are, at the same -time, heated by the exercise, which double heat is apt to bring on -putrid dangerous fevers? That soldiers and seamen, who must march and -labour in the sun, should in the East or West Indies have a uniform of -white? That summer hats for men or women should be white, as repelling -that heat which gives headaches to many, and to some the fatal stroke -that the French call the _coup de soleil_? That the ladies' summer hats, -however, should be lined with black, as not reverberating on their faces -those rays which are reflected upward from the earth or water? That the -putting a white cap of paper or linen _within_ the crown of a black hat, -as some do, will not keep out the heat, though it would if placed -_without_? That fruit-walls, being blacked, may receive so much heat -from the sun in the daytime as to continue warm in some degree through -the night, and thereby preserve the fruit from frosts or forward its -growth? with sundry other particulars of less or greater importance, -that will occur from time to time to attentive minds. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To the same._ - -ON THE EFFECT OF AIR ON THE BAROMETER. AND THE BENEFITS DERIVED FROM THE -STUDY OF INSECTS. - - Craven-street, June 11, 1760. - -'Tis a very sensible question you ask, how the air can affect the -barometer, when its opening appears covered with wood? If, indeed, it -was so closely covered as to admit of no communication of the outward -air to the surface of the mercury, the change of weight in the air could -not possibly affect it. But the least crevice is sufficient for the -purpose; a pinhole will do the business. And if you could look behind -the frame to which your barometer is fixed, you would certainly find -some small opening. - -There are, indeed, some barometers in which the body of the mercury in -the lower end is contained in a close leather bag, and so the air cannot -come into immediate contact with the mercury; yet the same effect is -produced. For the leather, being flexible, when, the bag is pressed by -any additional weight of air, it contracts, and the mercury is forced up -into the tube; when the air becomes lighter and its pressure less, the -weight of the mercury prevails, and it descends again into the bag. - -Your observations on what you have lately read concerning insects is -very just and solid. Superficial minds are apt to despise those who make -that part of the creation their study as mere triflers; but certainly -the world has been much obliged to them. Under the care and management -of man, the labours of the little silkworm afford employment and -subsistence to thousands of families, and become an immense article of -commerce. The bee, too, yields us its delicious honey, and its wax -useful to a multitude of purposes. Another insect, it is said, produces -the cochineal, from whence we have our rich scarlet dye. The usefulness -of the cantharides, or Spanish flies, in medicine, is known to all, and -thousands owe their lives to that knowledge. By human industry and -observation, other properties of other insects may possibly be hereafter -discovered, and of equal utility. A thorough acquaintance with the -nature of these little creatures may also enable mankind to prevent the -increase of such as are noxious, or secure us against the mischiefs they -occasion. These things doubtless your books make mention of: I can only -add a particular late instance, which I had from a Swedish gentleman of -good credit. In the green timber intended for shipbuilding at the king's -yard in that country, a kind of worms was found, which every year became -more numerous and more pernicious, so that the ships were greatly -damaged before they came into use. The king sent Linnćus, the great -naturalist, from Stockholm, to inquire into the affair, and see if the -mischief was capable of any remedy. He found, on examination, that the -worm was produced from a small egg, deposited in the little roughnesses -on the surface of the wood, by a particular kind of fly or beetle; from -whence the worm, as soon as it was hatched, began to eat into the -substance of the wood, and, after some time, came out again a fly of the -parent kind, and so the species increased. The season in which the fly -laid its eggs Linnćus knew to be about a fortnight (I think) in the -month of May, and at no other time in the year. He therefore advised, -that some days before that season, all the green timber should be thrown -into the water, and kept under water till the season was over. Which -being done by the king's order, the flies, missing the usual nests, -could not increase, and the species was either destroyed or went -elsewhere: and the wood was effectually preserved, for after the first -year it became too dry and hard for their purpose. - -There is, however, a prudent moderation to be used in studies of this -kind. The knowledge of nature may be ornamental, and it may be useful; -but if, to attain an eminence in that, we neglect the knowledge and -practice of essential duties, we deserve reprehension. For there is no -rank in natural knowledge of equal dignity and importance with that of -being a good parent, a good child, a good husband or wife, a good -neighbour or friend, a good subject or citizen, that is, in short, a -good Christian. Nicholas Gimcrack, therefore, who neglected the care of -his family to pursue butterflies, was a just object of ridicule, and we -must give him up as fair game to the satirist. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To Dr. Joseph Priestley._ - -EFFECT OF VEGETATION ON NOXIOUS AIR. - -* * That the vegetable creation should restore the air which is spoiled -by the animal part of it, looks like a rational system, and seems to be -of a piece with the rest. Thus fire purifies water all the world over. -It purifies it by distillation, when it raises it in vapours, and lets -it fall in rain; and farther still by filtration, when, keeping it -fluid, it suffers that rain to percolate the earth. We knew before that -putrid animal substances were converted into sweet vegetables when mixed -with the earth and applied as manure; and now, it seems, that the same -putrid substances, mixed with the air, have a similar effect. The -strong, thriving state of your mint, in putrid air, seems to show that -the air is mended by taking something from it, and not by adding to it. -I hope this will give some check to the rage of destroying trees that -grow near houses, which has accompanied our late improvements in -gardening, from an opinion of their being unwholesome. I am certain, -from long observation, that there is nothing unhealthy in the air of -woods; for we Americans have everywhere our country habitations in the -midst of woods, and no people on earth enjoy better health or are more -prolific. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To Dr. John Pringle._ - -ON THE DIFFERENCE OF NAVIGATION IN SHOAL AND DEEP WATER. - - Craven-street, May 10, 1768. - -You may remember, that when we were travelling together in Holland, you -remarked that the trackschuyt in one of the stages went slower than -usual, and inquired of the boatman what might be the reason; who -answered, that it had been a dry season, and the water in the canal was -low. On being asked if it was so low as that the boat touched the muddy -bottom, he said no, not so low as that, but so low as to make it harder -for the horse to draw the boat. We neither of us, at first, could -conceive, that if there was water enough for the boat to swim clear of -the bottom, its being deeper would make any difference; but as the man -affirmed it seriously as a thing well known among them, and as the -punctuality required in their stages was likely to make such difference, -if any there were, more readily observed by them than by other watermen -who did not pass so regularly and constantly backward and forward in the -same track, I began to apprehend there might be something in it, and -attempted to account for it from this consideration, that the boat, in -proceeding along the canal, must in every boat's length of her course -move out of her way a body of water equal in bulk to the room her bottom -took up in the water; that the water so moved must pass on each side of -her and under her bottom to get behind her; that if the passage under -her bottom was straitened by the shallows, more of that water must pass -by her sides, and with a swifter motion, which would retard her, as -moving the contrary way; or, that the water becoming lower behind the -boat than before, she was pressed back by the weight of its difference -in height, and her motion retarded by having that weight constantly to -overcome. But as it is often lost time to attempt accounting for -uncertain facts, I determined to make an experiment of this when I -should have convenient time and opportunity. - -After our return to England, as often as I happened to be on the Thames, -I inquired of our watermen whether they were sensible of any difference -in rowing over shallow or deep water. I found them all agreeing in the -fact, that there was a very great difference, but they differed widely -in expressing the quantity of the difference; some supposing it was -equal to a mile in six, others to a mile in three, &c. As I did not -recollect to have met with any mention of this matter in our -philosophical books, and conceiving that if the difference should really -be great, it might be an object of consideration in the many projects -now on foot for digging new navigable canals in this island, I lately -put my design of making the experiment in execution in the following -manner. - -I provided a trough of planed boards fourteen feet long, six inches -wide, and six inches deep in the clear, filled with water within half an -inch of the edge, to represent a canal. I had a loose board, of nearly -the same length and breadth, that, being put into the water, might be -sunk to any depth, and fixed by little wedges where I would choose to -have it stay, in order to make different depths of water, leaving the -surface at the same height with regard to the sides of the trough. I had -a little boat in form of a lighter or boat of burden, six inches long, -two inches and a quarter wide, and one inch and a quarter deep. When -swimming, it drew one inch water. To give motion to the boat, I fixed -one end of a long silk thread to its bow, just even with the water's -edge; the other end passed over a well-made brass pully, of about an -inch diameter, turning freely on a small axis; and a shilling was the -weight. Then placing the boat at one end of the trough, the weight -would draw it through the water to the other. - -Not having a watch that shows seconds, in order to measure the time -taken up by the boat in passing from end to end, I counted as fast as I -could count to ten repeatedly, keeping an account of the number of tens -on my fingers. And as much as possible to correct any little -inequalities in my counting, I repeated the experiment a number of times -at each depth of water, that I might take the medium. And the following -are the results: - - Water - 1-1/2 inches deep. 2 inches. 4-1/2 inches. - 1st exp. 100 94 79 - 2d " 104 93 78 - 3d " 104 91 77 - 4th " 106 87 79 - 5th " 100 88 79 - 6th " 99 86 80 - 7th " 100 90 79 - 8th " 100 88 81 - --- --- --- - 813 717 632 - --- --- --- - Medium 101 Medium 89 Medium 79 - -I made many other experiments, but the above are those in which I was -most exact; and they serve sufficiently to show that the difference is -considerable. Between the deepest and shallowest it appears to be -somewhat more than one fifth. So that, supposing large canals, and -boats, and depths of water to bear the same proportions, and that four -men or horses would draw a boat in deep water four leagues in four -hours, it would require five to draw the same boat in the same time as -far in shallow water, or four would require five hours. - -Whether this difference is of consequence enough to justify a greater -expense in deepening canals, is a matter of calculation, which our -ingenious engineers in that way will readily determine. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To Oliver Neale._ - -ON THE ART OF SWIMMING. - -I cannot be of opinion with you, that it is too late in life for you to -learn to swim. The river near the bottom of your garden affords a most -convenient place for the purpose. And as your new employment requires -your being often on the water, of which you have such a dread, I think -you would do well to make the trial; nothing being so likely to remove -those apprehensions as the consciousness of an ability to swim to the -shore in case of an accident, or of supporting yourself in the water -till a boat could come to take you up. - -I do not know how far corks or bladders may be useful in learning to -swim, having never seen much trial of them. Possibly they may be of -service in supporting the body while you are learning what is called the -stroke, or that manner of drawing in and striking out the hands and feet -that is necessary to produce progressive motion. But you will be no -swimmer till you can place some confidence in the power of the water to -support you; I would therefore advise the acquiring that confidence in -the first place, especially as I have known several who, by a little of -the practice necessary for that purpose, have insensibly acquired the -stroke, taught, as it were, by nature. - -The practice I mean is this. Choosing a place where the water deepens -gradually, walk coolly into it till it is up to your breast; then turn -round, your face to the shore, and throw an egg into the water between -you and the shore. It will sink to the bottom, and be easily seen there, -as your water is clear. It must lie in water so deep as that you cannot -reach it to take it up but by diving for it. To encourage yourself in -order to do this, reflect that your progress will be from deeper to -shallower water, and that at any time you may, by bringing your legs -under you and standing on the bottom, raise your head far above the -water. Then plunge under it with your eyes open, throwing yourself -towards the egg, and endeavouring, by the action of your hands and feet -against the water, to get forward till within reach of it. In this -attempt you will find that the water buoys you up against your -inclination; that it is not so easy a thing to sink as you imagined; -that you cannot, but by active force, get down to the egg. Thus you feel -the power of the water to support you, and learn to confide in that -power; while your endeavours to overcome it and to reach the egg teach -you the manner of acting on the water with your feet and hands, which -action is afterward used in swimming to support your head higher above -water, or to go forward through it. - -I would the more earnestly press you to the trial of this method, -because, though I think I satisfied you that your body is lighter than -water, and that you might float in it a long time, with your mouth free -for breathing, if you would put yourself in a proper posture, and would -be still and forbear struggling, yet, till you have obtained this -experimental confidence in the water, I cannot depend on your having the -necessary presence of mind to recollect that posture and directions I -gave you relating to it. The surprise may put all out of your mind. For -though we value ourselves on being reasonable, knowing creatures, reason -and knowledge seem, on such occasions, to be of little use to us; and -the brutes, to whom we allow scarce a glimmering of either, appear to -have the advantage of us. - -I will, however, take this opportunity of repeating those particulars to -you which I mentioned in our last conversation, as, by perusing them at -your leisure, you may possibly imprint them so in your memory as, on -occasion, to be of some use to you. - -1. That though the legs, arms, and head of a human body, being solid -parts, are specifically something heavier than fresh water, yet the -trunk, particularly the upper part, from its hollowness, is so much -lighter than water, as that the whole of the body, taken together, is -too light to sink wholly under water, but some part will remain above -until the lungs become filled with water, which happens from drawing -water into them instead of air, when a person, in the fright, attempts -breathing while the mouth and nostrils are under water. - -2. That the legs and arms are specifically lighter than salt water, and -will be supported by it, so that a human body would not sink in salt -water, though the lungs were filled as above, but from the greater -specific gravity of the head. - -3. That, therefore, a person throwing himself on his back in salt water, -and extending his arms, may easily lie so as to keep his mouth and -nostrils free for breathing; and, by a small motion of his hands, may -prevent turning if he should perceive any tendency to it. - -4. That in fresh water, if a man throws himself on his back near the -surface, he cannot long continue in that situation but by proper action -of his hands on the water. If he uses no such action, the legs and lower -part of the body will gradually sink till he comes into an upright -position, in which he will continue suspended, the hollow of the breast -keeping the head uppermost. - -5. But if, in this erect position, the head is kept upright above the -shoulders, as when we stand on the ground, the immersion will, by the -weight of that part of the head that is out of water, reach above the -mouth and nostrils, perhaps a little above the eyes, so that a man -cannot long remain suspended in water with his head in that position. - -6. The body continuing suspended as before, and upright, if the head be -leaned quite back, so that the face look upward, all the back part of -the head being then under water, and its weight, consequently, in a -great measure supported by it, the face will remain above water quite -free for breathing, will rise an inch higher every inspiration, and sink -as much every expiration, but never so low that the water may come over -the mouth. - -7. If, therefore, a person unacquainted with swimming, and falling -accidentally into the water, could have presence of mind sufficient to -avoid struggling and plunging, and to let the body take this natural -position, he might continue long safe from drowning till perhaps help -would come. For as to the clothes, their additional weight, while -immersed, is very inconsiderable, the water supporting it, though, when -he comes out of the water, he would find them very heavy indeed. - -But, as I said before, I would not advise you or any one to depend on -having this presence of mind on such an occasion, but learn fairly to -swim, as I wish all men were taught to do in their youth; they would, on -many occurrences, be the safer for having that skill, and on many more -the happier, as freer from painful apprehensions of danger, to say -nothing of the enjoyment in so delightful and wholesome an exercise. -Soldiers particularly should, methinks, all be taught to swim; it might -be of frequent use either in surprising an enemy or saving themselves. -And if I had now boys to educate, I should prefer those schools (other -things being equal) where an opportunity was afforded for acquiring so -advantageous an art, which, once learned, is never forgotten. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To Miss Stephenson._ - -METHOD OF CONTRACTING CHIMNEYS.--MODESTY IN DISPUTATION. - - Craven-street, Saturday evening, past 10. - -The question you ask me is a very sensible one, and I shall be glad if I -can give you a satisfactory answer. There are two ways of contracting a -chimney; one by contracting the opening _before_ the fire, the other by -contracting the funnel _above_ the fire. If the funnel above the fire is -left open in its full dimensions, and the opening before the fire is -contracted, then the coals, I imagine, will burn faster, because more -air is directed through the fire, and in a stronger stream; that air -which before passed over it and on each side of it, now passing -_through_ it. This is seen in narrow stove chimneys, when a -_sacheverell_ or blower is used, which still more contracts the narrow -opening. But if the funnel only _above_ the fire is contracted, then, as -a less stream of air is passing up the chimney, less must pass through -the fire, and, consequently, it should seem that the consuming of the -coals would rather be checked than augmented by such contraction. And -this will also be the case when both the opening _before_ the fire and -the funnel _above_ the fire are contracted, provided the funnel above -the fire is more contracted in proportion than the opening before the -fire. So, you see, I think you had the best of the argument; and as you, -notwithstanding, gave it up in complaisance to the company, I think you -had also the best of the dispute. There are few, though convinced, that -know how to give up even an error they have been once engaged in -maintaining; there is, therefore, the more merit in dropping a contest -where one thinks one's self right; it is at least respectful to those we -converse with. And, indeed, all our knowledge is so imperfect, and we -are, from a thousand causes, so perpetually subject to mistake and -error, that positiveness can scarce ever become even the most knowing; -and modesty in advancing any opinion, however plain and true we may -suppose it, is always decent, and generally more likely to procure -assent. Pope's rule, - - To speak, though sure, with seeming diffidence, - -is therefore a good one; and if I had ever seen in your conversation the -least deviation from it, I should earnestly recommend it to your -observation. I am, &c., - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -_To M. Dubourg._ - -OBSERVATIONS ON THE PREVAILING DOCTRINES OF LIFE AND DEATH. - -* * Your observations on the causes of death, and the experiments which -you propose for recalling to life those who appear to be killed by -lightning, demonstrate equally your sagacity and your humanity. It -appears that the doctrines of life and death, in general, are yet but -little understood. - -A toad buried in sand will live, it is said, till the sand becomes -petrified: and then, being enclosed in the stone, it may still live for -we know not how many ages. The facts which are cited in support of this -opinion are too numerous and too circumstantial not to deserve a certain -degree of credit. As we are accustomed to see all the animals with which -we are acquainted eat and drink, it appears to us difficult to conceive -how a toad can be supported in such a dungeon: but if we reflect that -the necessity of nourishment, which animals experience in their ordinary -state, proceeds from the continual waste of their substance by -perspiration, it will appear less incredible that some animals, in a -torpid state, perspiring less because they use no exercise, should have -less need of aliment; and that others, which are covered with scales or -shells which stop perspiration, such as land and sea turtles, serpents, -and some species of fish, should be able to subsist a considerable time -without any nourishment whatever. A plant, with its flowers, fades and -dies immediately if exposed to the air without having its root immersed -in a humid soil, from which it may draw a sufficient quantity of -moisture to supply that which exhales from its substance and is carried -off continually by the air. Perhaps, however, if it were buried in -quicksilver, it might preserve, for a considerable space of time, its -vegetable life, its smell, and colour. If this be the case, it might -prove a commodious method of transporting from distant countries those -delicate plants which are unable to sustain the inclemency of the -weather at sea, and which require particular care and attention. I have -seen an instance of common flies preserved in a manner somewhat similar. -They had been drowned in Madeira wine, apparently about the time when it -was bottled in Virginia to be sent hither (to London). At the opening of -one of the bottles, at the house of a friend where I then was, three -drowned flies fell into the first glass that was filled. Having heard it -remarked that drowned flies were capable of being revived by the rays of -the sun, I proposed making the experiment upon these: they were -therefore exposed to the sun upon a sieve, which had been employed to -strain them out of the wine. In less than three hours, two of them began -by degrees to recover life. They commenced by some convulsive motions of -the thighs, and at length they raised themselves upon their legs, wiped -their eyes with their fore-feet, beat and brushed their wings with their -hind-feet, and soon after began to fly, finding themselves in Old -England, without knowing how they came thither. The third continued -lifeless till sunset, when, losing all hopes of him, he was thrown away. - -I wish it were possible, from this instance, to invent a method of -embalming drowned persons, in such a manner that they may be recalled to -life at any period, however distant; for, having a very ardent desire to -see and observe the state of America a hundred years hence, I should -prefer to any ordinary death the being immersed in a cask of Madeira -wine, with a few friends, till that time, to be then recalled to life by -the solar warmth of my dear country! But since, in all probability, we -live in an age too early and too near the infancy of science to hope to -see such an art brought in our time to its perfection, I must, for the -present, content myself with the treat which you are so kind as to -promise me, of the resuscitation of a fowl or a turkey-cock. - - B. FRANKLIN. - - * * * * * - -LORD BROUGHAM'S PORTRAIT OF DR. FRANKLIN. - -The following admirable sketch of the character of Franklin is from a -new work by Lord Brougham, recently published in London, entitled -"Statesmen in the time of George III." It has not been published in this -country: - -"One of the most remarkable men, certainly, of our times as a -politician, or of any age as a philosopher, was Franklin, who also -stands alone in combining together these two characters, the greatest -that man can sustain, and in this, that having borne the first part in -enlarging science by one of the greatest discoveries ever made, he bore -the second part in founding one of the greatest empires. - -"In this truly great man everything seemed to concur that goes towards -the constitution of exalted merit. First, he was the architect of his -own fortune. Born in the humblest station, he raised himself, by his -talents and his industry, first, to the place in society which may be -attained with the help only of ordinary abilities, great application, -and good luck; but next, to the loftier heights which a daring and happy -genius alone can scale; and the poor printer's boy, who at one period of -his life had no covering to shelter his head from the dews of night, -rent in twain the proud dominion of England, and lived to be the -ambassador of a commonwealth which he had formed, at the court of the -haughty monarchs of France who had been his allies. - -"Then he had been tried by prosperity as well as adverse fortune, and -had passed unhurt through the perils of both. No ordinary apprentice, no -commonplace journeyman, ever laid the foundation of his independence in -habits of industry and temperance more deep than he did, whose genius -was afterward to rank him with the Galileos and the Newtons of the Old -World. No patrician born to shine in courts, or assist at the councils -of monarchs, ever bore his honours in a lofty station more easily, or -was less spoiled by the enjoyment of them, than this common workman did -when negotiating with royal representatives, or caressed by all the -beauty and fashion of the most brilliant court in Europe. - -"Again, he was self-taught in all he knew. His hours of study were -stolen from those of sleep and of meals, or gained by some ingenious -contrivance for reading while the work of his daily calling went on. -Assisted by none of the helps which affluence tenders to the studies of -the rich, he had to supply the place of tutors by redoubled diligence, -and of commentaries by repeated perusal. Nay, the possession of books -was to be obtained by copying what the art he himself exercised -furnished easily to others. - -"Next, the circumstances under which others succumb, he made to yield -and bend to his own purposes; a successful leader of a revolt that ended -in complete triumph, after appearing desperate for years; a great -discoverer in philosophy, without the ordinary helps to knowledge; a -writer famed for his chaste style, without a classical education; a -skilful negotiator, though never bred to politics; ending as a -favourite, nay, a pattern of fashion, when the guest of frivolous -courts, the life which he had begun in garrets and in workshops. - -"Lastly, combinations of faculties, in others deemed impossible, -appeared easy and natural in him. The philosopher, delighting in -speculation, was also eminently a man of action. Ingenious reasoning, -refined and subtile consultation, were in him combined with prompt -resolution and inflexible firmness of purpose. To a lively fancy he -joined a learned, a deep reflection; his original and inventive genius -stooped to the convenient alliance of the most ordinary prudence in -every-day affairs; the mind that soared above the clouds, and was -conversant with the loftiest of human contemplations, disdained not to -make proverbs and feign parables for the guidance of apprenticed youths -and servile maidens; and the hands that sketched a free constitution for -a whole continent, or drew down the lightning from heaven, easily and -cheerfully lent themselves to simplify the apparatus by which truths -were to be illustrated or discoveries pursued. - -"His discoveries were made with hardly any apparatus at all; and if, at -any time, he had been led to employ instruments of a somewhat less -ordinary description, he never seemed satisfied until he had, as it -were, afterward translated the process, by resolving the problem with -such simple machinery that you might say he had done it wholly unaided -by apparatus. The experiments by which the identity of lightning and -electricity was demonstrated, were made with a sheet of brown paper, a -bit of twine, a silk thread, and an iron key. - -"Upon the integrity of this man, whether in public or in private life, -there rests no stain. Strictly honest and even scrupulously punctual in -all his dealings, he preserved in the highest fortune that regularity -which he had practised as well as inculcated in the lowest. - -"In domestic life he was faultless, and in the intercourse of society -delightful. There was a constant good humour and a playful wit, easy and -of high relish, without any ambition to shine, the natural fruit of his -lively fancy, his solid, natural good sense, and his cheerful temper, -that gave his conversation an unspeakable charm, and alike suited every -circle from the humblest to the most elevated. With all his strong -opinions, so often solemnly declared, so imperishably recorded in his -deeds, he retained a tolerance for those who differed with him which -could not be surpassed in men whose principles hang so loosely about -them as to be taken up for a convenient cloak, and laid down when found -to impede their progress. In his family he was everything that worth, -warm affections, and sound prudence could contribute, to make a man both -useful and amiable, respected and beloved. - -"In religion he would be reckoned by many a latitudinarian, yet it is -certain that his mind was imbued with a deep sense of the Divine -perfections, a constant impression of our accountable nature; and a -lively hope of future enjoyment. Accordingly, his deathbed, the test of -both faith and works, was easy and placid, resigned and devout, and -indicated at once an unflinching retrospect of the past, and a -comfortable assurance of the future. - -"If we turn from the truly great man whom we have been contemplating to -his celebrated contemporary in the Old World (Frederic the Great), who -only affected the philosophy that Franklin possessed, and employed his -talents for civil and military affairs in extinguishing that -independence which Franklin's life was consecrated to establish, the -contrast is marvellous indeed between the monarch and the printer." - - - - - * * * * * - - - - -Transcriber's note: - -The transcriber made these changes to the text to correct obvious -errors: - - 1. p. 29 howsover --> howsoever - 2. p. 98 impaartial --> impartial - 3. p. 123 soilders --> soldiers - 4. p. 129 Phladelphia -->Philadelphia - 5. p. 146 virtuons --> virtuous - 6. p. 179 sentment --> sentiment - 7. p. 179 passons --> (left as published) - 8. p. 183 vents --> events - 9. p. 287 papar --> paper - - - -***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MEMOIRS OF BENJAMIN FRANKLIN; -WRITTEN BY HIMSELF, VOLUME II (OF 2)*** - - -******* This file should be named 40236-8.txt or 40236-8.zip ******* - - -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: -http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/4/0/2/3/40236 - - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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