diff options
Diffstat (limited to '40236-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 40236-0.txt | 9565 |
1 files changed, 9565 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/40236-0.txt b/40236-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..05fa5fd --- /dev/null +++ b/40236-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9565 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40236 *** + +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 Lacedæmonians 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 ephemeræ 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 ephemeræ, 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, _arrêts_, 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 +Cæsar_, 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 Cæsar_, 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 £30. 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 empêche 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 Ætna, 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 Ætna, 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 Ætna. +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 Père 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 Père 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 _è 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 Linnæus, 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 Linnæus 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 40236 *** |